toy story
First there was a long darkness. rain water began to fill the light-
bulbs. The earth cooled. The rows of houses look like a line of dead
ants. Inside one of these houses is a small bedroom. Inside the small
bedroom is a small closet. Inside the closet there is a small wooden
chest. The chest begins to move slightly. it rocks once, twice, three
times and then tips spilling a wide array of toys. The teddy bears
blink their large glassy eyes. A stegosaurus rolls off of his back
onto sturdy legs and lets out a tiny roar. The army men find formation.
It is their forward spotter who sees through tiny binoculars the body
of the dead child -thin and yellow-- on the bed.
"what is it sarge?"
"its' god son."
"god?" The men murmur. "is he mad?"
"nope," the sergeant mutters. "just dead."
or
it is just after midnight. a phone rings. she is a mother when she
reaches for the phone but when she puts it down she is something else.
Just then a light blinks on in the closet. The toys rattle to life.
characters spring from the mildewed covers of comic books. a teddy bear
lights a cigarette and calls for quiet.
bulbs. The earth cooled. The rows of houses look like a line of dead
ants. Inside one of these houses is a small bedroom. Inside the small
bedroom is a small closet. Inside the closet there is a small wooden
chest. The chest begins to move slightly. it rocks once, twice, three
times and then tips spilling a wide array of toys. The teddy bears
blink their large glassy eyes. A stegosaurus rolls off of his back
onto sturdy legs and lets out a tiny roar. The army men find formation.
It is their forward spotter who sees through tiny binoculars the body
of the dead child -thin and yellow-- on the bed.
"what is it sarge?"
"its' god son."
"god?" The men murmur. "is he mad?"
"nope," the sergeant mutters. "just dead."
or
it is just after midnight. a phone rings. she is a mother when she
reaches for the phone but when she puts it down she is something else.
Just then a light blinks on in the closet. The toys rattle to life.
characters spring from the mildewed covers of comic books. a teddy bear
lights a cigarette and calls for quiet.
3 Comments:
I love that dialouge between the soldiers about the child being God.
And here I was wondering what you still wrote, if you wrote at all.
Holy shit, Hans. A little depressing, maybe?
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