JOShUA kANE (?): ONE OF ThE ThiRTEEN - In Thirty-six sections
”I am Joshua Kane, I am one of the thirteen. Which one I am I will not tell you, I cannot tell you.”
There are 36 sections of murkiness that exist in the thirteen.
1. There are two possibilities. Either
a) Joshua Kane is a sociopath; or
b) The house in which Joshua Kane lives is the sociopath.
Or both. It has always been so. Clickety - Clack, Clickety – Clack. No turning back.
2. Joshua Kane is puzzled by children as they enter a cinema multiplex and wriggle in their seats. They fold their dirty little hands into their laps. The lights dim to darkness. Whispers and giggles and stupid excited chatter fill the dome. On Screen, images fill the screen, another selection of shorts from Editor Zero; the children will not be so innocent after they have watched his visions of their existence. Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack, hear their small minds crack.
3.
Mister Zero once cut up a cat
Joshua Kane spilled too much milk
Joshua Kane sleeps in the nude and dreams of blood.
Mister Zero likes to dress the wounds of the infirm.
Joshua Kane is keeping an awful secret – which he hides in the basement of his mind.
4. It is said that if you meet one of the thirteen, you will no longer see daylight.
But only if Joshua Kane sees you watching the thirteen, then, you will become part of his murkyworld .
Or will you? If you close your eyes in time, Joshua Kane becomes something else —
— It is unclear as to what he becomes. But some have said they have heard silent screams and hysterical sobbing.
5. Joshua Kane is no one, yet he is everywhere, the voice of the fire. Now imagine a man, with a distorted face, with no soul, with no thought, with no eyes, with no nose, just a slit in his face skin, where the mouth should be and teeth protruding from the slash. Clickety clack clickety clack clickety clack, chitter chatter chitter chatter, pointless natter, pitter-patter.
6. It is said that once you have glimpsed one of the thirteen, you become one the many. The darkness of the thirteen lingers in the mind's eye.
The touch, if by chance your fingers accidentally brush over the flesh or clothing of one of the thirteen. You become a figure upon the black velvet curtain of the thirteen’s eye.
7. Joshua Kane sometimes loses his way and forgets about the thing that he needed to remember. Now imagine a man, with a mask for a face, the only thing you see are his eyes. Eyes that are pitch black, with an uncaring stare and glare. They do not shine. They pierce you with anger and contempt. Clickety clack clickety clack, clackety click, clackety click, watch carefully you may miss the trick.
8.
He is one of the thirteen! Which one could he be?
When he fell asleep in the arms of Miss White, and the bleeding became dreaming . . .
9.
There are no facts. JOSHUA KANE IS DEFORMED. (He knew It. he knew it before he turned into one of the thirteen)
So. Joshua Kane is a deformity. Joshua Kane is a deformity. He chitter chatters, he clitter clatters. His words are too confused. His mind is everywhere and nowhere. His character is uncertain—there was talk of an accident; there was talk of a hospital; there was talk of a misshapen body somewhere in his past, her name is unknown and nobody knew her, but still they missed her glamorous smile. She would sell them ice-cold dreams and 99 flavoured desires.
Whispering in the ice cream shop. No one understood the sadness in her eyes.
10.
It is said that the ice cream girl was badly charmed. She lay transfixed and strapped to a bed for weeks, her body covered in fruits and hot wax. When her inner fear was delivered from inside her, one of the thirteen saw it as the visage of that by which he'd been unsettled.
11.
Clicketyclackclicketyclackclicketyclack Clicketyclackclicketyclackclicketyclack Clicketyclackclicketyclackclicketyclack Clicketyclackclicketyclackclicketyclack Clicketyclackclicketyclackclicketyclack Clicketyclackclicketyclackclicketyclack Clicketyclackclicketyclackclicketyclack Clicketyclackclicketyclackclicketyclack Clicketyclackclicketyclackclicketyclack Clicketyclackclicketyclackclicketyclack
Clicketyclackclicketyclackclicketyclack.noholdingback.
12. Joshua Kane paints and writes by lamplight in his world of deformity, his house that has nothing to do with him, it is only a place to hide, a place where he is covered in web and listens to the voices.
Joshua Kane’s face and skull and hips and limbs are all of normal formation. He has both eyelids and both earlobes, and all his toes and teeth, in all the right numbers and lengths, and flesh in the correct places, and clean gums. His posture is impeccable. He is one of the thirteen.
He can look in his pocket-glass and feel twisted in his blood filled stomach, knowing that if he chose to emerge from his darkness, into the places where people could see him, he would say 'Here I am, I am one of the thirteen, sound of limb, sound of spine; I only have one friend, a seller of twine.' He could hold is books of madness into the air and shout at the THEY that torment him 'These are the books, these are the books that I have been created from within my deformed mind; see that it is good, that I am one of the thirteen.'
The offending architecture of human existence and the life of the SCUM cannot coerce the benignity of the MurkyWorld of the thirteen.
13. He is one of the thirteen and he hides in his basement. The windowless basement until the stink of shit and piss becomes too awful. The glutinous odour stifles his senses. He must cleanse and scrub, cut and chop, then burn and bury the evidence of his despair. No one even knew.
The rampant screams swelled toward the ceiling.
Joshua Kane gasped for air, sucking and sucking with all his might.
He hears them calling his name, the pretty pretty pretties, who became his muses, who became his art. He stares at the canvases made from their flesh and their blood and he dances to the sound of the storms and the Clicketyclackclicketyclackclicketyclack Clicketyclackclicketyclackclicketyclack Clicketyclackclicketyclackclicketyclack Clicketyclackclicketyclackclicketyclack and the thechoppetychopchoppetychopchoppetychopchoppetychopchoppetychop of past glories and the future pretties who will do all that he bids.
14.
Hide the dead. Chop them up before they go stiff. She has a funny smell, Joshua Kane, looks underneath the heel of one of her delectable feet, a spot of living mould, no bigger than a 1-euro coin.
15.
A disfigured man crouches behind a grey building with a box of pictures by his side. His life is dead. He didn't wish to be seen. He was afraid he would be found with the pictures and punished, by one of the thirteen.
His head twisted suddenly; in the corner of his eye a shadow flitted across the wall of the building; he had glimpsed his future.
He was a victim of circumstance.
16.
So sad, to watch a grown man cry.
The basement of Joshua Kane’s house is filled with this sadness. To handle the lacklustre flesh, to touch the frightened bundle of this forgotten one, is to sustain the limp heft of pity.
And even if he knew tat this is one of the thirteen would he still fear his own imagination? for just think how pitiful—that this man, this forgotten man thought so little of himself that he'd stoop to the level of manipulating Joshua Kane’s art, think of the awful deformed power he'd wield, trusting so blindly in being able to extort one of the thirteen, foolish hungry, starving fool. He will become part of the art and his box of stolen images shall be returned to their rightful place.
Clicketyclackclicketyclackclicketyclack Clicketyclackclicketyclackclicketyclack Clicketyclackclicketyclackclicketyclack Clicketyclackclicketyclackclicketyclack Clicketyclackclicketyclackclicketyclack Clicketyclackclicketyclackclicketyclack Clicketyclackclicketyclackclicketyclack Clicketyclackclicketyclackclicketyclack Clicketyclackclicketyclackclicketyclack
Clicketyclackclicketyclackclicketyclack hear the bones crack, watch the spine snap and feel the spray of warm blood splatter over the skin of one of the thirteen.
Could Joshua Kane look anyone clear in the eye and lie about his deeds?
And what about the deformity, the deformity of Joshua Kane, the house filled with murkiness and creativity, can he hide that as well?
17.
Joshua Kane has terrible dreams. About death, murder, blood, flesh and killing. He wakes up sweating and screaming. He has no memory of himself. He has no thoughts that he can call his own. Only distant flashes of images that tell a story of one of the thirteen.
18.
But: EVERY PIECE OF ART HE HAS CREATED WAS UNIFORMLY OBLONG: Just so.
Or was it? It smelled so good, so fresh. The knife slices through the canvas like cutting a freshly baked loaf and plunges through the dried paint like butter.
Yet when Joshua Kane is enjoying creating, a letter always comes through the box. Always the telephone rings. Is something wrong with the way Joshua Kane perceives his life?
Whispering in the ice cream shop. Joshua Kane can hear the voices.
19.
Listen:
Weknowwhatyoudidweknowwhatyoudiddidshetastegoodinyourmouthandonyourtongueyesshediddidntsheheryoungfleshwassweetasyourtonguelingeredoverherstrappeddownandtiedtothebedbodythegaginhermouthstifledherscreamsandhereyespleadedwithyoutostopasyouforcedvarioustoolsandchiselsonhercuntandtitsshebledforyounicelydidntsheasyoufuckedherinherassandcutopenherthroatwiththemeatcleaver.yourCUMdribbledoutofhereveryholeasyoufuckedfordaysandweeksuntilshewasfinallydeadandyoufuckedherevenmore.Finallychoppingherupandblendingandgrindingherfleshandboneintoapulpofliquidmatterwhichyoublendedwithfruitsandyoghurtandcreamandsoldherassmoothiesto the ice cream shop.
20.
A smell.
Tooth-in-an ice cream A horrible, horrible accident. Now the ice cream shop is closed and the owner is missing. She is wanted for being another Sweeney Todd.
21. Just take it—YOU BITCH, fucking stupid whore, just take IT, take one of the thirteen into your sluttish cunt and they might even be able to stomach the stench of your female fear. As long as you look like you are enjoying yourself. Or you will suffer Much worse, at least, to feel your pussy be gutted open like a trout and the razor edged teeth of one of the thirteen bite your disgusting mound open, ready for the rats to tunnel deeper into your sagging gaping vagina and eat deep into your fucking pointless life.
22. But—the thirteen simply do not want this relationship between the deformity of the ice cream owner’s cunt and the deformity of Joshua Kane to stop and end their pleasure. But like all good sweet things that taste so scrumptious, it has to end.
23. Joshua Kane needs to run and hide from himself. But, The train arrived late; and there were too many pretties travelling to Essex. He was not able to concentrate on who he was and what he could be.
Something whispered in his ear: It is said that in the old days they'd have beat him with sticks, till from out of the pummelling his true shape emerged.
24. Stoop. Hide. Mime. The blind tongue within Joshua Kane presses into his teeth with postures, and the gestures of the craft.
25.
Clicketyclackclicketyclackclicketyclack
Clicketyclackclicketyclackclicketyclack
Clicketyclackclicketyclackclicketyclack
Stay on the track don’t look back
Clicketyclackclicketyclackclicketyclack
26.
As each hour passes, a small yet significant piece of Joshua Kane withers and dies. And nothing replaces it.
Like painting a picture without any paint.
Every moment is less fulfilling than the last.
In a black and unending void, Joshua Kane is falling.
He is a fading relic of an artistic past, where summers were long and the barcode did not run his lives. He is one of the thirteen and he is escaping from himself.
He is in a box
He is made of cloth and rotting skin, he has a head, which is cracked, and peeling, the face of dead man that has only one strand of white hair and one dark eye with rotting eyelashes. He listens to the sound of the train and thinks of the pretty pretty pretties.
27.
Tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock.
Time is slow, Time is fast. Time is ageing him daily.
Clickety clack clackety click clickety clack
Tickety tock tockety tick tickety tock
28.
Joshua Kane’s new face is melting. His face his rotting. The man who stole his art is having the last laugh.
29. The train is swelled to capacity; but the platform is empty, his mind is closed. Joshua Kane pushes his way along the aisle, to get to the toilet. He needs to lock himself in and flush away the fake skin and show his true face, a face of one of the thirteen. A mob of pretty pretty pretties watch him and imagines them whispering to him, strewing honey-scented knickers at him from their wicker baskets. He hears them telling him that they want to suck his cock and lick his tongue and taste his spunk. He stares straight ahead. He cannot be distracted. He must become new again.
30. The fingers he presses into his eyelids were somehow not enough; he could still see through them; it was like they were impalpable, translucent. He peeled off the mask of dead flesh and became Joshua Kane again. He washed his face and flushed the old face away. He looks at himself born again; and masturbates, thinking of the pretty pretty pretties. His creamy juices flow onto the palm of his hand and he licks it up and swallows it all. Savouring the creamy salty texture. He washed his hands again and again. 13 times. Until he is certain that he is clean.
31. “Don’t make me open my eyes, Alice, please. Don't ever make me reach out my hand, or I may hurt you and I don’t want to hurt you, I want you, I love you, you are my muse. Open your legs so I can see your juicy cunt and slide my fingers into it as you take my cock in your hand and wank me off to the sound of music, a soundtrack of misery and pain”.
32.
Joshua Kane asleep in the carriage. He is dreaming again. He is dreaming about his obsession. The pretty pretty pretties have gone and He stares out of the window, watching nothing, seeing everything. Alice White, nothing but a distant fantasy, a regular dream that will never come true.
33.
clicketyclackclicketyclackticketytockticketytockclicketyclackclicketytockticketyclack.
34.
The destination is nearing. Saffron Walden beckons. Mister Zero can help him. Because the sound of the Television is slowly killing us all.
35.
Mister Zero is not there. The tower of lost control is in darkness. There is a note on the door. He is unable to read it. The rain has smudged the words. Joshua Kane falls screaming to the ground. He has to catch another train, to another destination. Joshua Kane does not like trains.
36.
Joshua Kane is one of the thirteen. He does really know which one he is, but he has the idea that perhaps he is better off pretending not to know. He is number seven.
THE ENd.
”I am Joshua Kane, I am one of the thirteen. Which one I am I will not tell you, I cannot tell you.”
There are 36 sections of murkiness that exist in the thirteen.
1. There are two possibilities. Either
a) Joshua Kane is a sociopath; or
b) The house in which Joshua Kane lives is the sociopath.
Or both. It has always been so. Clickety - Clack, Clickety – Clack. No turning back.
2. Joshua Kane is puzzled by children as they enter a cinema multiplex and wriggle in their seats. They fold their dirty little hands into their laps. The lights dim to darkness. Whispers and giggles and stupid excited chatter fill the dome. On Screen, images fill the screen, another selection of shorts from Editor Zero; the children will not be so innocent after they have watched his visions of their existence. Clickety-Clack, Clickety-Clack, hear their small minds crack.
3.
Mister Zero once cut up a cat
Joshua Kane spilled too much milk
Joshua Kane sleeps in the nude and dreams of blood.
Mister Zero likes to dress the wounds of the infirm.
Joshua Kane is keeping an awful secret – which he hides in the basement of his mind.
4. It is said that if you meet one of the thirteen, you will no longer see daylight.
But only if Joshua Kane sees you watching the thirteen, then, you will become part of his murkyworld .
Or will you? If you close your eyes in time, Joshua Kane becomes something else —
— It is unclear as to what he becomes. But some have said they have heard silent screams and hysterical sobbing.
5. Joshua Kane is no one, yet he is everywhere, the voice of the fire. Now imagine a man, with a distorted face, with no soul, with no thought, with no eyes, with no nose, just a slit in his face skin, where the mouth should be and teeth protruding from the slash. Clickety clack clickety clack clickety clack, chitter chatter chitter chatter, pointless natter, pitter-patter.
6. It is said that once you have glimpsed one of the thirteen, you become one the many. The darkness of the thirteen lingers in the mind's eye.
The touch, if by chance your fingers accidentally brush over the flesh or clothing of one of the thirteen. You become a figure upon the black velvet curtain of the thirteen’s eye.
7. Joshua Kane sometimes loses his way and forgets about the thing that he needed to remember. Now imagine a man, with a mask for a face, the only thing you see are his eyes. Eyes that are pitch black, with an uncaring stare and glare. They do not shine. They pierce you with anger and contempt. Clickety clack clickety clack, clackety click, clackety click, watch carefully you may miss the trick.
8.
He is one of the thirteen! Which one could he be?
When he fell asleep in the arms of Miss White, and the bleeding became dreaming . . .
9.
There are no facts. JOSHUA KANE IS DEFORMED. (He knew It. he knew it before he turned into one of the thirteen)
So. Joshua Kane is a deformity. Joshua Kane is a deformity. He chitter chatters, he clitter clatters. His words are too confused. His mind is everywhere and nowhere. His character is uncertain—there was talk of an accident; there was talk of a hospital; there was talk of a misshapen body somewhere in his past, her name is unknown and nobody knew her, but still they missed her glamorous smile. She would sell them ice-cold dreams and 99 flavoured desires.
Whispering in the ice cream shop. No one understood the sadness in her eyes.
10.
It is said that the ice cream girl was badly charmed. She lay transfixed and strapped to a bed for weeks, her body covered in fruits and hot wax. When her inner fear was delivered from inside her, one of the thirteen saw it as the visage of that by which he'd been unsettled.
11.
Clicketyclackclicketyclackclicketyclack Clicketyclackclicketyclackclicketyclack Clicketyclackclicketyclackclicketyclack Clicketyclackclicketyclackclicketyclack Clicketyclackclicketyclackclicketyclack Clicketyclackclicketyclackclicketyclack Clicketyclackclicketyclackclicketyclack Clicketyclackclicketyclackclicketyclack Clicketyclackclicketyclackclicketyclack Clicketyclackclicketyclackclicketyclack
Clicketyclackclicketyclackclicketyclack.noholdingback.
12. Joshua Kane paints and writes by lamplight in his world of deformity, his house that has nothing to do with him, it is only a place to hide, a place where he is covered in web and listens to the voices.
Joshua Kane’s face and skull and hips and limbs are all of normal formation. He has both eyelids and both earlobes, and all his toes and teeth, in all the right numbers and lengths, and flesh in the correct places, and clean gums. His posture is impeccable. He is one of the thirteen.
He can look in his pocket-glass and feel twisted in his blood filled stomach, knowing that if he chose to emerge from his darkness, into the places where people could see him, he would say 'Here I am, I am one of the thirteen, sound of limb, sound of spine; I only have one friend, a seller of twine.' He could hold is books of madness into the air and shout at the THEY that torment him 'These are the books, these are the books that I have been created from within my deformed mind; see that it is good, that I am one of the thirteen.'
The offending architecture of human existence and the life of the SCUM cannot coerce the benignity of the MurkyWorld of the thirteen.
13. He is one of the thirteen and he hides in his basement. The windowless basement until the stink of shit and piss becomes too awful. The glutinous odour stifles his senses. He must cleanse and scrub, cut and chop, then burn and bury the evidence of his despair. No one even knew.
The rampant screams swelled toward the ceiling.
Joshua Kane gasped for air, sucking and sucking with all his might.
He hears them calling his name, the pretty pretty pretties, who became his muses, who became his art. He stares at the canvases made from their flesh and their blood and he dances to the sound of the storms and the Clicketyclackclicketyclackclicketyclack Clicketyclackclicketyclackclicketyclack Clicketyclackclicketyclackclicketyclack Clicketyclackclicketyclackclicketyclack and the thechoppetychopchoppetychopchoppetychopchoppetychopchoppetychop of past glories and the future pretties who will do all that he bids.
14.
Hide the dead. Chop them up before they go stiff. She has a funny smell, Joshua Kane, looks underneath the heel of one of her delectable feet, a spot of living mould, no bigger than a 1-euro coin.
15.
A disfigured man crouches behind a grey building with a box of pictures by his side. His life is dead. He didn't wish to be seen. He was afraid he would be found with the pictures and punished, by one of the thirteen.
His head twisted suddenly; in the corner of his eye a shadow flitted across the wall of the building; he had glimpsed his future.
He was a victim of circumstance.
16.
So sad, to watch a grown man cry.
The basement of Joshua Kane’s house is filled with this sadness. To handle the lacklustre flesh, to touch the frightened bundle of this forgotten one, is to sustain the limp heft of pity.
And even if he knew tat this is one of the thirteen would he still fear his own imagination? for just think how pitiful—that this man, this forgotten man thought so little of himself that he'd stoop to the level of manipulating Joshua Kane’s art, think of the awful deformed power he'd wield, trusting so blindly in being able to extort one of the thirteen, foolish hungry, starving fool. He will become part of the art and his box of stolen images shall be returned to their rightful place.
Clicketyclackclicketyclackclicketyclack Clicketyclackclicketyclackclicketyclack Clicketyclackclicketyclackclicketyclack Clicketyclackclicketyclackclicketyclack Clicketyclackclicketyclackclicketyclack Clicketyclackclicketyclackclicketyclack Clicketyclackclicketyclackclicketyclack Clicketyclackclicketyclackclicketyclack Clicketyclackclicketyclackclicketyclack
Clicketyclackclicketyclackclicketyclack hear the bones crack, watch the spine snap and feel the spray of warm blood splatter over the skin of one of the thirteen.
Could Joshua Kane look anyone clear in the eye and lie about his deeds?
And what about the deformity, the deformity of Joshua Kane, the house filled with murkiness and creativity, can he hide that as well?
17.
Joshua Kane has terrible dreams. About death, murder, blood, flesh and killing. He wakes up sweating and screaming. He has no memory of himself. He has no thoughts that he can call his own. Only distant flashes of images that tell a story of one of the thirteen.
18.
But: EVERY PIECE OF ART HE HAS CREATED WAS UNIFORMLY OBLONG: Just so.
Or was it? It smelled so good, so fresh. The knife slices through the canvas like cutting a freshly baked loaf and plunges through the dried paint like butter.
Yet when Joshua Kane is enjoying creating, a letter always comes through the box. Always the telephone rings. Is something wrong with the way Joshua Kane perceives his life?
Whispering in the ice cream shop. Joshua Kane can hear the voices.
19.
Listen:
Weknowwhatyoudidweknowwhatyoudiddidshetastegoodinyourmouthandonyourtongueyesshediddidntsheheryoungfleshwassweetasyourtonguelingeredoverherstrappeddownandtiedtothebedbodythegaginhermouthstifledherscreamsandhereyespleadedwithyoutostopasyouforcedvarioustoolsandchiselsonhercuntandtitsshebledforyounicelydidntsheasyoufuckedherinherassandcutopenherthroatwiththemeatcleaver.yourCUMdribbledoutofhereveryholeasyoufuckedfordaysandweeksuntilshewasfinallydeadandyoufuckedherevenmore.Finallychoppingherupandblendingandgrindingherfleshandboneintoapulpofliquidmatterwhichyoublendedwithfruitsandyoghurtandcreamandsoldherassmoothiesto the ice cream shop.
20.
A smell.
Tooth-in-an ice cream A horrible, horrible accident. Now the ice cream shop is closed and the owner is missing. She is wanted for being another Sweeney Todd.
21. Just take it—YOU BITCH, fucking stupid whore, just take IT, take one of the thirteen into your sluttish cunt and they might even be able to stomach the stench of your female fear. As long as you look like you are enjoying yourself. Or you will suffer Much worse, at least, to feel your pussy be gutted open like a trout and the razor edged teeth of one of the thirteen bite your disgusting mound open, ready for the rats to tunnel deeper into your sagging gaping vagina and eat deep into your fucking pointless life.
22. But—the thirteen simply do not want this relationship between the deformity of the ice cream owner’s cunt and the deformity of Joshua Kane to stop and end their pleasure. But like all good sweet things that taste so scrumptious, it has to end.
23. Joshua Kane needs to run and hide from himself. But, The train arrived late; and there were too many pretties travelling to Essex. He was not able to concentrate on who he was and what he could be.
Something whispered in his ear: It is said that in the old days they'd have beat him with sticks, till from out of the pummelling his true shape emerged.
24. Stoop. Hide. Mime. The blind tongue within Joshua Kane presses into his teeth with postures, and the gestures of the craft.
25.
Clicketyclackclicketyclackclicketyclack
Clicketyclackclicketyclackclicketyclack
Clicketyclackclicketyclackclicketyclack
Stay on the track don’t look back
Clicketyclackclicketyclackclicketyclack
26.
As each hour passes, a small yet significant piece of Joshua Kane withers and dies. And nothing replaces it.
Like painting a picture without any paint.
Every moment is less fulfilling than the last.
In a black and unending void, Joshua Kane is falling.
He is a fading relic of an artistic past, where summers were long and the barcode did not run his lives. He is one of the thirteen and he is escaping from himself.
He is in a box
He is made of cloth and rotting skin, he has a head, which is cracked, and peeling, the face of dead man that has only one strand of white hair and one dark eye with rotting eyelashes. He listens to the sound of the train and thinks of the pretty pretty pretties.
27.
Tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock.
Time is slow, Time is fast. Time is ageing him daily.
Clickety clack clackety click clickety clack
Tickety tock tockety tick tickety tock
28.
Joshua Kane’s new face is melting. His face his rotting. The man who stole his art is having the last laugh.
29. The train is swelled to capacity; but the platform is empty, his mind is closed. Joshua Kane pushes his way along the aisle, to get to the toilet. He needs to lock himself in and flush away the fake skin and show his true face, a face of one of the thirteen. A mob of pretty pretty pretties watch him and imagines them whispering to him, strewing honey-scented knickers at him from their wicker baskets. He hears them telling him that they want to suck his cock and lick his tongue and taste his spunk. He stares straight ahead. He cannot be distracted. He must become new again.
30. The fingers he presses into his eyelids were somehow not enough; he could still see through them; it was like they were impalpable, translucent. He peeled off the mask of dead flesh and became Joshua Kane again. He washed his face and flushed the old face away. He looks at himself born again; and masturbates, thinking of the pretty pretty pretties. His creamy juices flow onto the palm of his hand and he licks it up and swallows it all. Savouring the creamy salty texture. He washed his hands again and again. 13 times. Until he is certain that he is clean.
31. “Don’t make me open my eyes, Alice, please. Don't ever make me reach out my hand, or I may hurt you and I don’t want to hurt you, I want you, I love you, you are my muse. Open your legs so I can see your juicy cunt and slide my fingers into it as you take my cock in your hand and wank me off to the sound of music, a soundtrack of misery and pain”.
32.
Joshua Kane asleep in the carriage. He is dreaming again. He is dreaming about his obsession. The pretty pretty pretties have gone and He stares out of the window, watching nothing, seeing everything. Alice White, nothing but a distant fantasy, a regular dream that will never come true.
33.
clicketyclackclicketyclackticketytockticketytockclicketyclackclicketytockticketyclack.
34.
The destination is nearing. Saffron Walden beckons. Mister Zero can help him. Because the sound of the Television is slowly killing us all.
35.
Mister Zero is not there. The tower of lost control is in darkness. There is a note on the door. He is unable to read it. The rain has smudged the words. Joshua Kane falls screaming to the ground. He has to catch another train, to another destination. Joshua Kane does not like trains.
36.
Joshua Kane is one of the thirteen. He does really know which one he is, but he has the idea that perhaps he is better off pretending not to know. He is number seven.
THE ENd.
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