Wednesday, August 15, 2018

Left-hand Drive

Derek Stenning

When she hit the horizon, she took one look back at her dust trail dispersing in the fading light and severed the last entrails of regret that clung like nostalgia to the corners of her mind.
Vertigo removed the tracker from her ear and crushed it in the steel palm of her left hand; she wouldn’t be needing it out in the static of the Umbra.

Tales for an attention deficit world

Monday, August 13, 2018

Friday, August 10, 2018

'38 Rue Utopia ~ Ep.19

I walked with the zombie
~ Roky Erickson and The Aliens 1981

Fleet's in ~ Paul Cadmus

“Ghosts! Ghosts! Ghosts!” whisper the kids as they climb into their bunks.
“Settle down little ones” says Eva, “You shouldn’t taunt those creatures you know” she looks around at the faces floating in the dim light, arrayed at various angles to face her.
“I’m not a little one”
“Why not?”
“Why not? Cos they didn’t choose to be like that, they were just like you and me once”
“What happened to them?”
Eva shines her torch up under her chin in the time-honoured fashion; her up-lit face taking on that upside-down horror-show shadow; she grins to enhance the effect and the kids giggle and squeal with delight.
“What happened to them?”
“Once upon a time…”
She waits for the giggles to subside.

Roky Erickson
I Walked with the Zombie

Wednesday, August 08, 2018

The Informant

Suburbs of a Paranoid Critical Town ~ Dali

Spooks in his peripheral: an ever-changing rota of anonymous faces, transient and ominous in their lack of obvious intent as they drive him into the corners where his worst traits loiter - the taste of his own shortcomings bitter in his mouth, the stains of his own misanthropic endeavours on hem of his coat.
Eric hugs the shadows, himself a spook in a world populated by oblivious automata in logo-sloganned uniforms; their dreams purchased on a regular basis from the production line of conformity; they stoke the furnaces that burn in individually sculpted and categorised hearts.
And traversing his rheumy vision a figure etched in smoke from the tip of his cigarette, a phantom in veils with arabesque hip and bejewelled belly, an X to his Y, a remedy a recompense, a ready answer to all his wants, an anchor for his insecurities.

Tales for an attention deficit world

Monday, August 06, 2018

I Got the Music in Me

Jazz Punk ~ Olivier Bonhomme