Tag: dystopia

Skin Contract

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Awake at 4. Itching, scratching.
The rashes are unbearable.
One more week until my skin contract’s up.
The free ones are nothing compared to expensive designer skins, but with the contract, you get a discount on those.
I look in the mirror. Hideous bags under my eyes, wrinkles like canyons across my face.
And rashes.
Last time, I cheaped out. Ever since, it’s been dermatologist appointments and oceans of cosmetics.
Yak butter creams? Tungsten wire therapy?
I won’t make that mistake again.
I put on my happy-face, the porcelain doll-mask with the vacant, vapid stare, and head to the kitchen.

Belt

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I could not find my leather belt this morning.
It was not where I had left it – wrapped around my neck.
My belt is usually on yesterday’s pants, but I didn’t wear pants yesterday. So I wrapped it around my neck and went to sleep.
When I woke up, it was gone.
I only own one belt. It’s a black belt, so it goes with everything.
Maybe I will go buy another belt? I should buy two, but in all my life, I only own one belt at a time.
Because I only have one neck to wrap it around.

The Forest Of Fourteen Trees

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Once upon a time, this was a vast forest, with trees as far as the eye could see.
Now, there are only fourteen trees, crowded together in a housing subdivision.
We, the elves of the forest, once frolicked and hunted.
Now, we argue over pizza toppings and order delivery.
It’s not easy, clinging to the past when the future has clearly defeated it, but we are forest elves, and we can no more abandon them as a fish can leave the water.
The government calls us an endangered species, but the gnomes were, too.
They’re gone now, and soon, us.

Stuffed

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It’s just a simple fact of life:
You can stuff a chicken.
You can stuff a bra.
You can stuff a bra in a chicken.
You can stuff a chicken in a bra.
Those awful cookbooks and fashion magazines – I blame them for this madness among our children!
It’s unhealthy! It’s unsanitary! It’s unamerican!
It used to be you’d just see this on the news from savage places like Belugastan or the North Indies.
Now, you see it all over the mall. These damn crazy kids with their tattoos, piercings, and poultry-filled undergarments!
The world has gone to Hell.

Dr. Santa

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Every year, he puts on a Santa suit, visiting dying children in the hospital.
“There are healthy girls and boys without toys,” he’d sneer, holding up an unopened train set. “Are you planning on being buried with this one?”
He went from bed to bed, filling his sack and leaving a trail of screaming children.
The next morning, while on the way to work, he stopped by church.
“Bless you,” said Father John, gladly accepting the toys and games for the gift drive.
Dr. Walters smiled and got back in his car, off for another day of rounds in Pediatrics.

Quote

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They say the devil can quote scripture.
Of course he can. He wrote it. Every word of it.
Branded on the backs of the sinners with red hot pokers.
Skin torn from flesh, pressed into sheets, bound between brimstone covers, still dripping with their blood.
He was there at the Council of Nicea, making changes to his rough draft, whispering in old priests ears and making deals.
I’ll make you a saint.
I’ll make you a hero.
I’ll make you a prophet.
I’ll make you a god among men.
Every hotel room is his church, his word in the drawer.

Free Trial

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The letter said I qualified for a 7 day free trial. But it didn’t say what it was for.
I figured what the hell, right, and I called the 800 number.
I heard it ring twice and then a click.
No answer. No voice.
The line went dead.
The next thing I knew, I was in Paris.
It was a week later, and there was a receipt in my hand.
“REFUNDED IN FULL”
I had no idea what had happened to me or how I got there.
There were no other receipts, no clues.
I found a cafe and drank.

You Breathed

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Why did you do it? What put you over the edge?
You were so happy when I saw you yesterday. So full of the joy of life.
What made you pull the trigger. Twice.
What horror filled your mind with despair and hopelessness What could possibly drag you down so deep?
Twice. Did you pull the trigger?
Or did someone else do it?
They shot you twice and put the gun in your hand.
Then, as they waited to call for help, you breathed.
“I heard the shot. I found him there. I found him dead.”
But you still breathed.

Goalposts

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There’s no greater thrill than when your team wins the championship and the crowd tears the goalposts down.
I wish we had stopped at that.
After the goalposts came down, we started tearing up the field, ripping huge sheets of sod and tossing them around like bathroom mats.
Then we busted up the concession stands and the bathrooms.
The seats and bleachers took some effort, but soon enough, we were throwing seats around smashing them to bits.
The rest of the stadium required heavy construction equipment, but we were persistent and fired up.
A final cheer, then we went home.

Comes earlier

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Christmas comes earlier every year.

Stores put the displays and trees before Halloween.

That’s why the elves went on strike.

You see, they’ve been working without a contract for over a century now.

While the reindeer still only work one night, the elves still have to ramp up production faster and faster for these earlier holiday sales.

Faster turnaround means less time for maintenance, too.
More work accidents, drinking on the job – that kind of thing.

Santa didn’t pay attention to the growing discontent in the workshop.

The elves are building a bonfire.

Santa’s tied to a stake, screaming.