posted on Mar, 2 2012 @ 06:01 AM
© TZ 2012
I was the only person in Starbucks without a wireless laptop computer. It didn't matter, I hated compters anyway. I guzzled my cup of Jo and went
to the cashier to write a check for $1.95. It was common knowledge that paying for your Jo with all that heavy loose change in your pocket would put
you on the American Terrorist Watch List. The REAL terrorists were running our government and businesses. That, we all knew.
I paid for my Jo and headed for the door when I noticed that everybody's laptops were oozing a vile-smelling, lumpy brown smoke of some sort. I
stopped dead in my tracks. The smoke rose to the ceiling and then the laptops started oozing a vile-smelling, lumpy brown, slimey liquid of some
sort. Nobody was reacting. They seemed as though it was business as usual for them. The smoke and liquid coalesced into a mass of (you guessed it)
vile-smelling, lumpy dark-brown light. I stood dumb-founded, watching for a moment or two. Nobody reacted.
I high-tailed it out of Starbucks, concerned that I had been hallucinating. That Jo must have been tainted, spiked, poisoned! I thought it best to
head straight to my doctor's office to see if I had been poisoned in some way. I hopped on my bike and peddled toward Hagen's Point to Doctor
It was early morning, about eight A.M. and the first of the office staff was just beginning to arrive in the parking lot as I cycled up to the bike
rack. I locked my bike and turned to await the head nurse who would most likely have the keys to open the office. I waited, and waited and waited.
Nurse Gretchen was a fat ol' grouch and you didn't want to tick her off. She was like a hired guard dog, only worse. I waited, and waited and
waited. Five minutes had passed and still there was nobody coming up the sidewalk so I went to the parking area and tried to look casual.
I saw Nurse Gretchen's red sedan. Lumpy dark-brown light pervaded the driver's seat area. The malignant-looking light swirled round and round, back
into itself time and again. It almost looked like bioluminescent fresh sewage in a fight with itself. A large dark-brown flash of light. Hundreds
of foot-long flagellum whipped wildly about the driver who was buried amidst the thick dark-brown soup of turbulent light. Another large dark-brown
flash. Then, it was over. Nurse Gretchen opened the driver's door and slid out as gracefully as a blob of bacon fat sliding around a gently heated
I ducked behind the largest shrub nearby and hid. She waddled past, mumbling something I couldn't make out from my vantage point. I was hoping she
didn't notice my bike at the bike rack; but, I think she did. I saw her glance at it and then look around to see if she saw anybody. She continued
up the path, unlocked the door and disappeared inside the doctor's office.
Another car pulled up; but, I already knew I wouldn't be staying to see the doctor. I jolted toward my bike when I saw a large shadow block the sun.
I looked up and saw the satellite dish on top of Doctor Reese's office consumed in lumpy brown smoke which bellowed skyward. Lumpy brown, slimey
liquid oozed along the roof and over the edge, dripping like melted Triple Decadent Chocolate Ice Cream off of the eaves and into the garden area
I grabbed my bike lock and fumbled nervously, trying to open the lock as fast as I could. My hands were shaking like my great-grandmother's. It
seemed an eternity; but, finally the lock opened and I freed my bike.
I whipped past the second sedan, stealing a peek inside. The dashboard area where a GPS screen would normally be mounted was smoking. You guessed
it, lumpy brown smoke. I peddled as fast as my legs would go, and then some. "Where to go, where to go?" I repeated to myself.
I churned past the Wal Mart parking lot noticing people with shopping carts loaded with those monotonous, plastic white bags. The plastic bags were
smoking, lumpy brown smoke. "Darned RFID chips I bet." I mumbled to myself. Attended cars were either smoking or flashing dark-brown light.
Sometimes a car door would open and the lumpy brown fluid would dribble out the opening, onto the parking lot. Sometimes you caught a glimpse of
people smothered in hundreds of foot-long flagellum, each arm whipping chaotically at the other. After the third flash of lumpy dark-brown light, the
people would walk away normally. Nobody seemed to notice.
I turned to go to the library. Surely, there would be answers there. After fifteen minutes of harried peddling, I made it to the Ronald Reagan
Public Library. The satellite dish on top of the library was smoking, dribbling and flashing. I was getting used to the nightmare. I dropped my
bike on the lawn and ran inside. The rows of computers were unattended, the library was sullenly empty except for the spectacled, skinny old lady at
the counter. I approached the librarian and stopped short when I heard her mumbling to herself. "Evil, evil, evil ... Must have ... Evil, evil,
evil ... Must eat ... Evil, evil, evil ... Must ..." I didn't wait to hear the rest of her mumbling, I high-tailed it out of there.
I was getting nowhere. My head was spinning. All this craziness was taking its' toll on my nervous system. I was rattling and shaking like a
rocket launch pad in the final countdown sequence during a 7.5 earth quake. I grabbed my bike and headed toward George Washington Carver Municipal
Park. The gate guard was swirling in dark-brown light which ended in time to flag me through.
I went to the G2-3 hike 'n' bike trail, my favourite trail. I tossed my bike at the water fountain and gulped the fresh clear water, splashing my
face and gulping and gurgling more icey fresh water. "B-r-r-r-p-t, that was GOOD!" I smiled to myself reassuringly. I sat down on the wooden
bench, twiddling long foxtail grass stems between my fingers and thinking. After about ten minutes I concluded that thinking was getting me nowhere.
I jostled the bike back under my crotch and mosied down the trail.
Rabbits, lots of different kinds and colours off snakes, lizards, chameleons and skinks all criss-crossed the path as usual. Colourful and
not-so-colourful birds flitted hither and yon, chirping like they hadn't a care in the world. "Nothing had changed," I assured myself. "Nature
was still the same. Everything would be okay." I stopped by the wild grapes and plucked a handful, popping them into my mouth like popcorn. Yum!
"Yes, I'm going to be fine." I reinforced my positive outlook. I spent the whole day on the trail; alone, contemplating the wonders of nature. I
left about four P.M. to get home and bathed before sundown.
Everything seemed normal at my apartment complex. I locked my bike and then grabbed my mail from the mailroom. A bill, a letter from Mom, and a
small parcel from Dad. I went upstairs and entered my apartment, plopping myself on the couch as I opened the parcel from Dad. A pre-paid
cell-phone! He must want a phone call from his only child. I popped the batteries into the slot, inserted the pre-paid card and was engulfed in a
plume of lumpy brown smoke.