scanning the floor for leftover appendages.
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| Spooky Stole My Noodle scanning the floor for leftover appendages. |
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Tuesday, April 22, 2003 I smacked myself on the back, in an attempt to hurry myself along the road. "Come on you lazy idle fuck" I hissed, as I thumped myself in the kidneys. I was late, and half asleep. The cars, the buses, and even other people whizzed past me at speeds which caused white blisters to form on the roof of my mouth. I was slow that day, and navigating my way through the atmosphere of the city at rush hour was painful and exhausting. My limbs were as though enclosed in thick rubber tubing which restricted the joints and weighed me down ten-fold. I got frustrated, I knew there was precious little time left, I kicked myself squarely up the arse on the main street just as I was passing the opened doors to the Gap Kids outlet. I hocked out a shocked cry of pain in response to the kick. Women inside the shop, with pushchairs for hands, looked up from fingering baby grows to see the spectacle framed in beaming daylight between the clearly alarmed doors to the outside world. It must have been like a miniature piece of theatre. The world as a stage, the shop's interior a darkened auditorium. The main doors for stage-wings. A small piece of vaudeville. A bizarre slapstick short. Man kicks own butt. I gained some pace then. I found an extra supply of will, converted it hasitly into ohms which were spent on shots of kinetic energy. A short rush, a quick buzz, a fix of weak adrenaline to spur me onward. I accelerated down the street and found my speed now matched that of the slower pedestrians. It might have been enough, but I was doubtful even then. I reached the doorway which signalled the destination I was aiming for, and shot into the pitch black interior without even nodding my appreciation to the concierge. I was scooting on inertia. If I slowed now I would never regain my current velocity. It was blazing sunshine outside, but cool darkness within the lobby. I cruised at full tilt across the polished Parque floor. My eyes had not adjusted to the new lighting conditions. I was blind. I raced through head sucking darkness, and intercepted a rack of postcards at maximum speed. My legs made violent love to the rack, which immediately began to shed its postcards in a frenzied and amorous display. My arms embraced a moment of intimacy between man and inanimate object. I made deep animal sounds as the postcard rack took me by surprise, nudging my genitals with a playful prong. My thighs gripped the writhing and intricate body of my play mate in a grappling, lusty fetish assault. We lost our balance in the heat of the moment, in full public view of the strangers in the lobby. By the time we came to lay together on the hard and dusty floor, I had adjusted the aperture of my eyes and taken my pupils down a good few stops. The postcard rack wascompletely fucked. I stood up, borrowed a squint from a Spaghetti western, and looked around the octagonal ante-chamber with its eight tantalising doors. Selecting the one I wanted, from memory, I made my way through it, slipping slightly on a postcard. On the other side of the door was the usual custodian with the pre-requisite formality. Examination of my validating documents succesfully converted suspicion into warm helpfulness in the form of an unnecessary declaration that I was late, and had therefore missed the departure. My group had gone on ahead without me. The last vestiges of energy left my body then, and I slumped once more into the thick broth of fatigue that had coated me all morning. "All is not lost though" I was told, and this was followed by a temple tapping manouvre from the custodian which was universally acknowledged short-hand semaphore meaning " Use a little lateral thinking". I thought laterally. It was easy really. "How Long?" I urged of the custodian, "three minutes ago" came his reply. I knew what I had to do. I stepped without delay into the tiny departure lounge and inserted myself into the last open capsule. I pressed buttons and checked displays simultaeneously. I hastily constructed mental calculations out of the flimsiest of vapours, and with a push of a button marked DO NOT PUSH, I shot backwards by exactly five minutes. Bursting from the capsule, I ran for the EXIT sign and made my way around the block to the main street out front. Peering through the crowds, I caught sight of a lumbering oaf in ill-fitting clothes moving at a rate which suggested vegetable growth. I pushed my way urgently through the crowd and quickly found myself catching up. Once there, I smacked myself on the back, in an attempt to hurry myself along the road. "Come on you lazy idle fuck" I hissed, as I thumped myself in the kidneys. I was late, and half asleep. The cars, the buses, and even other people whizzed past me at speeds which caused white blisters to form on the roof of my mouth. I was slow that day, and navigating my way through the atmosphere of the city at rush hour was painful and exhausting. My limbs were as though enclosed in thick rubber tubing which restricted the joints and weighed me down ten-fold. posted by Spooky | 12:20 PM |
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