The wind whistled from tree bark to tree Bark as the peel of the trees slowly began to unfurl. The trees' skin, hard and withered, rolled up into winding balls that made their way to the soil, collapsing as though tired from their journey.
I sat and wondered at this marvellous phenomenon that presented itself before me. How could this be? For a faint flicker of a moment, I felt as though maybe it was a message that the skin finally had enough of the tree trunks and decided to run away. Both, in the strangest way, seemed just as bizarre.
I whispered into the steady blue night, “Do you wish to tell me something?”
Suddenly, the layer of skin next to this central tree, surrounded by many, began to peel again. However, only slightly.
Indeed, I thought there was a better way to communicate than to peel itself.
“Can’t you speak to me? Speak to me with words?”
The trees lay silent now, no longer rolling up their skin.
Perhaps this was the only way?
“Please speak to me,” I looked closer as the tree revealed something beneath its hard skin: a hole that revealed flesh, that which looked like an intestine peeking from within.
My stomach aches with a whirling force that shook me into stillness and made me feel weak. The fleshy intestine moved from the hole, and now only a dark pit of blackness appeared.
“What do you wish for me to say…” it spoke.
Now, from reading this story's title, you are probably thinking… is this man a drunk? Well, I guess you could call me that. I’ve finished my 3rd glass, and things are starting to feel a bit wonky. Wavy. Maybe wavy is a better word. The funny thing is, though, my cat also has the same name as this title. And now you probably think you are sure of it. “He must be a drunk,” is that what you're thinking right now? Well, hell, who cares what you think, huh? You don’t know me.
Anyway, I’m tired of sitting here and waiting for award-winning stories to flood themselves on this page. I’m just going to warm up here and see what’s happening. Pretty much all I have here is my cat; there is nothing else worth writing about. I'm Telling you… nada.
Well, anyway, Let’s see, he's got a brown striped coat with dots on his belly. A skewered look stapled on his protruding browline. His mouth tilted downwards in a cute but unapproachable way. Anyone looking at him would probably stay away, but I know he is just a little fluff ball. Wouldn’t hurt a fly!
I found him in a bin, and I didn't really like that name for him. I greeted him, and the first thing he did was sniff my whiskey bottle. The rest was history.
Well, there's a story… always one to be found somewhere, I guess…
“Wow,” the words blew out softly into the wind.
“Now that is a sight…”
I couldn't believe my eyes. The hill blended from green and became barren, about a hundred yards away from the most vivid scenery I've ever seen.
Fields of lavender smothered the ground upon the hill. Surrounding a tall, thin checkered building standing erect with a shiny gold window.
I Could not wrap my head a how people were able to reach the top of this building. Even though the stairs started from the doorless open entrance of the building.
As I stood there, mesmerised by the breathtaking sight before me, I couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder and curiosity. The air was filled with the soothing scent of lavender, carried by a gentle breeze that rustled through the fields.
I took a hesitant step forward, drawn by the allure of the checkered building. The golden window glinted in the sunlight, casting a warm glow that contrasted beautifully with the surrounding purple expanse. As I approached, I noticed an intricate mosaic of black and white squares adorning the walls, seemingly moving across the inside of the building.
The stairs inside the entrance of the building beckoned me, their narrowing contrasted by the vastness of the landscape. With each step, the anticipation within me grew, fueled by a mix of awe and curiosity. Who had built this marvel? Why was it created?
Upon reaching the entrance, I hesitated for a moment, taking in the view from this newfound vantage point. The world stretched out below, a patchwork of fields and forests, with the distant hum of a bustling village. With a deep breath, I stepped inside.
As I stepped through the entrance, an unexpected sensation swept over me. The interior seemed to stretch out in all directions, far beyond the confines of the checkered building's exterior. It was as if I had entered a realm where space itself was distorted, creating an optical illusion of grand proportions.
The hallway ahead seemed to elongate infinitely, lined with mesmerizing patterns that seemed to shift and change as I walked. Stained glass windows reached impossibly high, casting whites and deep shades of black on the walls, dancing and melding into tiny intricate designs almost invisible to the eye. Each step I took felt like a journey into the unknown, with the boundaries of reality and imagination blending seamlessly.
Curious and slightly bewildered, I followed the seemingly endless corridor, my footsteps echoing faintly in the vast space. Along the way, I encountered chambers that defied logic, expanding into rooms of unfathomable dimensions. Paintings adorned the walls, their perspectives and dimensions distorted in ways that challenged my perception of reality.
The air itself felt different here, carrying whispers of stories and secrets that seemed to resonate with the very walls. Books lined shelves that stretched impossibly high, their pages holding knowledge from realms unknown. I ran my fingers across the spines, feeling a sense of reverence for the wisdom contained within.
As I ascended the stairs toward the upper levels, the optical illusion continued to play tricks on my senses. The view from the windows showed scenes that defied the laws of physics, with landscapes that extended beyond what the exterior of the building should have allowed. It was a breathtaking panorama of beauty and wonder, a testament to the power of perception and imagination.
Huge white spaces that converted into gardens. Trees and bushes with black leaves, and black flowers. The darkness sat in the almost sparkling white vast spaces. My jaw hung open at the sight, as purple drips began falling from the White spaces surrounding the staircase. I began walking up, reaching my hand out to the purple water that replicated rain, and smelt of lavender. It was as if this place existed in a reality of its own, a space where the limits of what could be imagined stretched beyond the horizon.
In that moment, I realised that this checkered building wasn't just a structure; it was an experience, a journey into the realm of perception and possibility. It taught me that appearances could be deceiving, that reality was malleable, and that the wonders of the mind could transcend the confines of space and time, and it didn't end there…
Here, It sung in the distance of my mind, I turned but perhaps not in time, Again it sung, Here, It crept from the cobwebs of my memory, Quietly, Surely, I felt it getting closer, In a melody that pained me, Shivers,
Here!
A quiet shout, A call for help? I couldn’t tell, I shouldn’t dwell,
HEre!
Louder,
HERe!
Louder,
HERE!
I screamed, The voice squeezing out of my lungs finally, I winced, My chest pronging from my liver painfully,
Here…
I could no longer brea…
I think the craziest thing about being happy is that as soon as you receive it you want to give it away. There’s seldom a time when you are so happy you want to keep it for yourself. I felt that way with my ex-girlfriend and as cruel as I felt she was, she taught me that.
The train sped up as it left the platform, I just found a job and although it was a modest minimum wage job. It made me happy, it made me think of what my mother used to tell me ‘it all starts with baby steps,’ and this is how I’ll always remember it. And that’s what this was, ‘baby steps.’ Greatest thing about it though is that I could wake up every day without the worry of when I’ll be able to afford my rent or phone bill and I had the peace of mind of having my values in check. I was content, what else could I want! If I couldn’t be happy now. I’d never be happy.
‘Change please sir?’ The sign screamed out from the cardboard that the man held. No one seemed to listen as he walked through the train carriage. I pulled a two pound coin out my pocket and a wrapped up croissant I planned on eating for dinner.
“Hey,” I said gently tapping him on his arm.
A smile.
“Here, I’m Andy by the way,” I said to him handing him a croissant and a two pound coin.
The smile grew wider and the man mouthed a thank you from his lips. His beanie hat and scraggly hair blocking out most of his appearance.
I was happy today. So I guess I just had to share it.
Two men in a violent dance, tap around each other in a majestic battle.
“Ahahaaa!” The blonde swept man jested.
The blonde man’s leg travelling round, aiming for the head of the bald, bearded man. The bald man ducks, sweeping him to the floor.
“Great move!” The blonde man announces, a huge smirk on his face.
The bald man extends a hand and helps him up.
Their training had only just begun.
“Fuck!” The words bounced off the ceiling and back into my eardrums.
I was alone, in bed, sweat soaking the sheets now. I needed to change them. I touched my face with both hands, thank goodness I still had them. It was all a dream.
I had reached over to press the light on the alarm clock beside my bed. I stretched over instinctively and banged the button with my forearm. Ouching as my wrist bent over the alarm clock. Did I just forget I had a hand? Surely that dream was just intense. So intense it made me think I still had no hands. My wrist strained as I got up off the bed and onto my feet. The light of the clock turning off before I could check the time.
“Fuck sake,” I squeezed from my lips.
Reaching over to press it again, my hand felt strange. As though it wasn’t mine.
‘3:35am’ it read. I had to leave for work at five. I had more than enough time. I should have slept more.
My beard itched from the sweat of the dream I was having and so did my body. It makes sense to have a shower. So I did.
Every action involving my hands felt strange. From opening the door, to turning on the water for the shower, even towering myself dry. It was as though my mind forgot I had them.
I watched something last night about a strange phenomena called phantom pain. Where people who had lost their limbs could still feel the movement and pain of the limb they lost. This felt like the opposite of that. It was as though my limb forgot it even exists. A full ache and less clarity in the movement of my hands. Wait was I getting some type of arthritis? I should call the doctor. There’s no way I could go to work if this stays.
My hands pained as they started to wriggle on their own.I could see them move now but I couldn’t feel them. I felt paralysed yet every finger tapped itself against the inside of my palm. A pain pronged from my wrist now and I saw a tearing of my skin. Some skin ripped open and blood began to seep from the wound. A perfect circle. My palm began rotating the blood dripping onto the floor. I couldn’t feel a thing. My hand span around and began to dance on my wrist. Tendons, veins and capillaries were visible as my hand fell onto the floor. My jaw hung open in awe and shock. This pain should be terrible yet I could feel nothing. Nothing but a perfect circle and blood spewing out from it…
