"Sir, we found it"
"Are we sure this time"
"At 0200 the Glove Woman was captured in Kiev by Delta 23"
"So we were right"
"Do the Russians know"
"Our man inside the FSB has gone dark"
"Activate all assets and go to condition orange"
"Sir, what about the Glove Woman"
"Stuff her pockets with magnets and hang her from a bridge"
"Forgive me for asking sir, but is that wise, we are so close"
"No, but it will bring him out of hiding"
"As you wish, Sir"
I turn on the TV and see nothing but horror. The Four Horsemen ride across the world and no one cares. Another tragedy in the Ukraine. A unidentified
woman was hung from Mother's-in-law Bridge in the city of Odessa. With magnets in her pockets and a picture of Petro Poroshenko taped to her chest.
CNN is reporting it was Pro-Russian separatists. RT is reporting it was Pro-Ukraine activists. Who do you believe? Does it even matter anymore?
Someones dead. Someone lost a loved one. Someone is in pain and mourning. What do we do? We argue while the world burns. I am right. No, I am right.
It was your side. No..no..it was your side. It was demons. It was aliens. Its a coverup. Nothing really happened, its all crisis actors. Like I said
in the end it does not matter one bit. The truth is, deep down inside were all evil.
Click. I turn the TV off and try to regain my sanity. Ever since my wife left me and took my son. I have been a walking ball of anger, sadness, and
loneliness. I am a lost lamb looking for a way home to my flock. I feel crazy. I feel like the blood that flows through my veins burns. If madness is
contagious. I am patient zero. Tears start to flow from my eyes. God I miss them. I just want to hug them. I just want to say I love you. I just want
time to turn back. I want forgiveness. I stare into my distorted reflection on the TV until I am numb again. Until I do not feel. When the pain and
hurt contract into me, leaving another black spot on my soul. I get up, get dressed, and decide to go get a drink.
I step out of my apartment. Out of my head and into the world. As I am locking my door. I turn my head to the left. A dwarf in a men in black suit is
watching me. A blank expression on his face. The first thought that pops into my mind? I guess the FBI really is an equal opportunity employer. As the
thought enters my brain. He smiles. I stare at him. He stares at me. A chill travels down my spine. I shiver and goosebumps form on my body. My
neighbor across the hall opens her door. I look towards her. When I look back at the dwarf. He is gone. My neighbor does not say a word to me. she
avoids eye contact and shuffles down the hall. She used to be friendly. She must smell the darkness that has consumed my life. Or maybe the world is
just changing. Maybe I am the last of my kind. Maybe everyone else has been replaced by robots or golems. If occams razor were to grow a mouth. It
would simply say. Your crazy. I really need a drink now.
The bar is only a few blocks away. A few blocks ruled like a medieval fiefdom. Except there is not one King but many. The gangs are a cancer that has
infested the body of my community. No matter how many times the police put us through chemo. The cancer keeps coming back. The last time I left my
apartment three weeks ago. A 13 year old boy rode up to me on a bicycle and put a gun to my head. The only reason I am alive today is because, before
he could pull the trigger. His "homie", told him that i was "cool". That I lived on this block. This is my reality. This is my life. My only choice?
Put one foot in front of the other. Left foot, right foot. Left foot, right foot. Every step painful. Every step on glass and razors. As I near the
bar with no sign of trouble. A rusted bullet hole ridden Nissan Altima pulls up to me.
"Who you be! What you is!", shouts the dwarf wearing black and yellow.
I do a double take. Thinking it is the same dwarf that I saw in the hall. It is not. I have never in real life seen a dwarf. Now I have seen two in
under an hour. Synchronicity? Hallucination? Coincidence? God? Lucifer? Flying spaghetti monster?
"I said what you is homie"
"I am nothing. No one. A speck of dust in an ever growing storm.", its as if the words are put in my mouth. My mind invaded.
"You be tripping G. I gots what you need. I got that new new. That Egyptian snuff. Its louder than loud. It will take over your dreams and take you to
the moon homie. You will forget all your pain. You will feel nothing no more. Not sadness. Not happiness. Nothing. Who likes to think anyways. I don't
homie. You can have a sample on me."
Before I can even say anything the local homeless guy everyone calls Sir Archy, shoots out of the nearby alley, like a bat out of hell, screaming, "Be
gone foul beast be gone. In the name of the father, the son, the mother, the uncle, and the cat, I banish you from this realm."
The dwarf gang banger hits the gas and peels out. Smoke from his exhaust consumes Sir Archy. In the smoke I see a man in a oak brown 1920s style suit
with a bowler hat smoking a cigar. When the smoke clears there is nothing but homeless Sir Archy. In a stained shirt, ragged pants, and only one shoe.
The dual nature of the man I know as Sir Archy does not bother me. I just accept it. Like I accept that the sun will in fact rise in the morning. Or
that I will never find happiness again. Sir Archy becomes part of my personal mythology. The man the myth. The dwarf slaying homeless hero. My Merlin
has arrived says the voice of the invader in my head.
"Have you seen my shoe?"
"No Sir Archy. I have not"
"Oh....that is okay. Obama and Bush became one person and stole it when I was sleeping. That is what people don't understand. All the presidents
become one person in the end. Then they steal shoes instead of votes."
"Are you hungry Sir Archy."
"I'm not, but my stomach is. Do you and your stomach ever disagree?"
"will you join me for a meal and a drink?"
Sir Archy does not say anything. He just stands there hopping from foot to foot. I point towards Bedlam bar and grill. He shakes his head up and down
and follows me into the bar. Our bubbles merge and we walk step in step. One reality. One life. One madness. One story.
End of chapter 1
edit on 24-7-2014 by karmicecstasy because: (no reason given)