Friday, April 13, 2012

Bus Crackers - Section II

I've come to find that I am going to have to revise the remainder of the original copy as I serialize this mini-web book. Not only has the original taken a turn I did not anticipate, but it also has turned out to be not all that interesting. The one thing that this experiment should be is interesting. Everything else be damned.

Chapter II - Smoke Rings

        When you paint their eyes should bleed at the sight. When you write you should write off the page so that their minds spin off their axis into oblivion. 
        The smoke will not stop as it curls into the air. With childlike fascination he stares into the open space as it bends and dances with molecules of oxygen. This child of fire and smoke should be feared and respected. Will you embrace their open leg enticement of stupidity? Dance on. Listen to the colors. Jump in the fire. A tribe's beat to the drum of the universe connects in smoke ring chains as he passively observes time. His wide eyes well with liquid behind the fishbowl of our standard. His peanut butter taffy parents drive their Tom watermelon automobile to take him on vacation. The ocean, an amusement part, and all the rest stops provide momentary bliss. A distraction from the rapid feeding of worms and maggots. When its all over their mouths are wiped with paper towels thrown out onto the highway. Never to be seen again, never to be imagined. "John Lennon was shot today, and everyone will regret cheese," the boy utters his first words. His father almost swerves off the road, but is able to maintain control as he sweats through his shirt. The words, so beautiful. The occupants of the watermelon no longer have no sense of reality. They continue along the highway. The man is in the middle of the road, but the occupants cannot see. Not even the child sees and he is a genius. The father continues to drive from state to state. Both the mother and the father no longer remember which one is home. They drive until they almost run out of gas. When they stop they eat waffles and eagle's meat. The child eats wolf and has a milkshake. The father has finally stopped sweating. The mother gleans at him with intense breath. The boy gets up to go to the bathroom. The mother looks at his father and says, " I want to fuck you like an ostrich." While chewing on a piece of eagle the father says, "We will get a room." And they do.
           The boy did not need to relieve himself. He is obsessed with leaving his mark wherever the family travels. He takes a black marker out of his pocket and writes, "WE ALL DIE" on the wall. When he walks out of the bathroom his parents are kissing each other and he smiles slightly. When he arrives at the table his father says, "You look tired." The boys grabs his milkshake from the table and takes a final draw. He puts the glass back on the table and stands silently staring at his parents. The boy knows that they are digital children without a clue. They may be able to teach him to pull up his pants but they have yet to figure out how to fold time. He is slightly disappointed in their parenting skills but loves them in spite of their flaws. 
           The next morning they all decide to go sailing, but instead visit the Alamo. The child hates cowboys and his father loves Indians. They decide that the Alamo is an very dirty experience, spit in the bathrooms, "WE ALL DIE", and drive to Florida to buy a pink flamingo. The parents get a couple more rooms on the way. They are happy.