Wednesday, September 20, 2006

Part Won-Eyth



I’m sorry mum. I’m sorry that I freeze when you try to hug me. I’m sorry that I will never give you a grandchild. I’m sorry I never talk to you. I’m sorry that I still don’t have a college degree, or did any outstanding things so you could be proud of me. I’m sorry that I can’t make you happy. I’m sorry, I’m so very sorry.

I open my eyes and the undead soldier is standing just in front of me, holding up his rifle. He is crying and his hands are shaking. I stabbed out his eyes once, but he can see again. He can see everything. There is no room for words or misplaced sympathy, I simly duck. He shoots and hits the piano. The once so wonderful music quickly dies out. I run into the kitchen, where the Bride and the Vampire are smoking their cigarette. Join us, they say and the Vampire hands me his pack and his lighter. I join in and hear how the Vampire is commenting on the Bride’s dress. I nervously glance at the dining room door, where I can still hear gunshots. The Vampire and I listen to the Bride’s song. She lalalalas and I pretend to like it.

Contemple-les, mon petit singe, ils sont vraiment affreux. Pareils aux mannequins, vaguement ridicules, terribles, singuliers comme les somnambules, dardant on ne sait où leurs globes ténébreux…

The Phantom Ape refuses to speak to me.

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