Working Title for short story: "Snowflakes in hell: A zombie luv story"
current status: incomplete...
Chapter 1: The Friday Night Brain Freeze in the Freak Kingdom
I awoke to a strange pulsing sensation. This sensation crawled through the air and echoed into my ear cavity. Slowly, it slithered down through my ear drum and ignited my senses alive. I had suspected a soothing and serene melody to awaken to, but this morning it would be different. Apparently my inebriated and idiotic self forgot to set the music alarm last night. Instead of the mellow tunes of some sweet smooth jazz radio station, I restarted to the bland and irritating noise of a beep sound wave hyped up on steroids.
My eyes were red, and swollen. My face sunken and dark. The rings inhabiting the lower reigon of my eye sockets were vulgar, and very defined...
My body ached. My spinal cord had wrapped itself up like a horrible gift on christmas. Like a clunky plad sweater that your grandmother gets you and makes you try on. You wind up wearing it once. Thats how my body felt. Broken and neglected like that same sweater that just sat in ur closet neatly hung up and pushed to the side. Along with the clothes u wore 5 years ago, but just cant seem to ever get to burning. Apparently, it had been a long night. One of those nights you never want to end, but does so unceremoniously. My so called friends and I had been drinking and driving and dreaming of deadly things to do. I guess the mere act of drinking and driving wasnt nearly deadly enough. A WARNING TO CHILDREN: Do as i say! Not as i do!In what seemed like 5 years, we had somehow managed to acquire all the drugs we had demanded, break all the bottles of booz that we had drained, and do all those stupid little things that make the friday night minutes melt off the clock and dry to a hard crust in the oblivion of infinity. How i managed to get home in one piece, was nothing short of a miracle. Just another friday night brain freeze in the freak kingdom.
The terrifying event that made this saturday morning hangover somehow worse than all the rest, was the horrifying yet humbling first day of my new job. Yes thats right! It really was a new day! And as soon as I worked up the eviscerated energy to move a single muscle, I could shut off this annoying atrocity of an alarm and roll my bones out of bed. A shower was needed. How strange a sensation it is when water willfully heated to 100 degrees can ignite and excite the body into an awakened state of awareness.
If it wasnt an aggrivating alarm that destroyed my decadent slumber, I could always count on my mother to wake me up to an equally unbearable shrieking sound. Like the noise of that train barreling towards you trapped in a tight, and dimly lit tunnel. At first you can only see the light, appearing at the far end of this tunnel. But as it draws near, it becomes glaringly obvious that your luck is about to change to misfortune and mutilated body parts stuck to the front of a murderous train. Not to say that my mom was like a murderer, or that she meant to kill me. It's just her voice in the morning was like nails on a chalkboard. Intolerable vibrations of air that snaked through the hallways and under your door and into the narrow hallways of your brain. That was mom. It wasnt her, it was the loveable way in which she showed no regard for the serenity found in a deep slumber. It didnt matter how many hours of sleep you had gotten that night. If you had something to do or somewhere to go, and you were still asleep. You might as well have been tied down to those train tracks.
As I lathered up my soap and livley'd up myself in the shower, My mother had neatly arranged my new work uniform on my bed, and began cooking me a well balanced breakfast. Complete with my oranges and banana's that i so vehemently require at every waking meal.
I hopped out of the shower , revitalized from the rampant night. I looked at myself in the mirror, and i began to see myself. Now I cant recount how many thousands of times i have looked in the mirror before. But i can count on one hand, how many times I did , and actaully saw myself staring back at me. Identity and Indecision have always plagued me, as I'm sure its plagued you from time to time. So many times, I'd look at myself in the mirror, and see somebody foreign. So many times, i'd look at myself in the mirror, and see somebody frightened. Somebody with no shadow. No spine. So many times, I'd look at myself in the mirror, and all i could see was clay. Sometimes i would manipulate and mold this clay in to whatever I had to be on that particular day. Sometimes a monster. Sometimes a martyr. But this morning, I actually looked at myself in the mirror. I looked good and i looked hard. I didnt move my hands to mold myself into anything. I just looked. And for the first time in my life. I was happy with the light that reflected the reverse image.
So strange, I guess that hard night of partying had somehow liberated me from some bleak and borrowed persona. So strange, because with all the drugs and alchohol that i consumed last night, I should technically be dead. Maybe I did die. Or maybe just a part of me. The part that exists as everyone else imagines me to be. So strange, I guess what doesnt kill you, only makes life just that much weirder.
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Chapter 2
"Shop and Drop"
5 seconds. yea, Im pretty sure its 5 seconds. For a man at least. 5 seconds of staring at yourself in a mirror , before you pass the line of just looking, and into the realm of narcississm and vanity. So for the sake of seeming like a self righteous schmuck, I smeared the mirror with still soapy hands, and began to get ready for work.
It was an equally cheerful day for the sun, which seemed to contrast the bleak nature of punching a time card and getting on a hamster wheel.
But nevertheless, I had arrived at my final destination, with banana juice flowing through the brain and anxious excitement brimming. My eyes dilated apocalyptic visions through the finger smudged panes of my mothers minivan, and darted suspicious gazes at random passer-bys...
"You should go in now, so your 10 minutes early..."
I sat there and scratched my head for a glorious eternity all neatly wrapped up in the bow of a quick second. I pondered and imagined a world in which I woke up from catatonic nights just to dangle aimlessly in a catatonic day. No balance... No freedom...just...paralysis of mind.
"TIMOTHY!"
I snapped out of my apocalyptic dystopian wonderland, just in time to see the clock had been drooling away....
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