Tuesday, 1 February 2011

Waterman Hors devours

i was in a wood cabin sitting outside working on my homework which was in a green binder. The landscape around me was coverd in snow. The young lady i was with who was a very old friend and one i havent seen or heard from in over ten years. Her name is Tara Waterman.  She came outside and said "Its not like there is going to be an avalanche." At that very moment their was a rumble and huge chunk of snow came barging down the hill toward the cabin. We ran inside and watched as the snow us roof and all.... and my green binder. The house was dark. I went into the garage to sort out some candles. Their was some kind of buzz that started and the whole room started to vibrate like it was inside a live wire.My hair started to blow. Their was some kind of spook in the house. We, who were now three, including Taras twin sister all looked at each other with wonder. I took out a jar of olives and another jar. The other jar was filled with an oily vinegary substance. swimming in the oil were miniature versions of Tara. Each of them with her dark hair her red corduroy pants and black shoes. each of these minatures in a different shape. Many of them in various diving shapes others in submissive postures as though being swept along a fast current. I picked up one of these miniature Taras and stuffed it inside an olive. I arranged it so that her little head was just peaking out and the tips of her fingers as though she was about to climb through. her one eye was open and looking upward. Her dark hair was greasy and sticking to her face. I offered this hors devours to Taras twin sister. Tara watching me do this got an evil little grin. The twin took the stuffed olive and popped it in her mouth contentedly. We heard the bones crunch and imagined the brain squirting out of its crispy shell. Yum ;-D. Tara and i laughed and winged!!! What?!? the Twin asked. I gave her another. This time she looked the gift olive in the mouth. as you would expect she was freaked by what she saw and through the olive on the floor and ran off. I imagine with the purpose to purge herself. Tara and stood there.. laughing.

1 comment:

  1. Snow creates in me a kind of dull, stuffed feeling of home; just like in your music, where I always feel more at ease.

    Saluti dall'Italia

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