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 Posted: Fri Jun 12, 2009 1:42 am
Chips At 2AM - And Experiment With Doughy
He quietly shut the door behind him, tip toeing to the living room and sitting softly on the couch. His face was long and his eyes drooped from years of overworking. He disassembled his businessman outfit piece by piece until he was only in his pants and undershirt. The tv volume was on low, on a channel he didn't remember turning to. He reached for a bag of chips and his crunching echoed through the whole house. The sound made him cringe, as though someone in the dark would hear him and chastise him for his rudeness. But there was nobody waiting, no angry housewife, no crazed murderer, no worried friend. He was alone and eating chips at 2 AM with the tv on.
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Posted: Fri Jun 12, 2009 1:44 am
Knick Knacks For Myself - An Experiment With Censor
The smell or rotting flesh slowly creeps into my nose and that becomes my alarm. My eyes flicker open and I see him tinkering at some sort of station. His shoulders are slumped forward and his is covered by a shadow, and still all I can focus on is the smell. His hands seem to working skillfully as he constructs various things and sets them down admiring them as he does.
My voice seems to be stolen from me, I know I should yell or thrash, but I just sit and wait for him to address me. As if I could do much anyway? Arms tied and legs bound, I fight to remember how I got here.
"You're much calmer then most material I bring down here," his voice is creaky and sounds strained. His words are paired with the tap of his feet as he steps towards me.
The smell seems to pour off of him. My mind lingers on the word material.
"W-what do you mean," my voice is meek and fearful. Why hide fear? I move my wrists against my restraints and wait for his answer. Even with him standing over me, staring me down all I can focus on is the smell.
Almost as if it's giving me some sort of vague idea of what is to become of me. So strong and relentless. I move my wrists more adding slight movement of my feet.
"What do you mean," I yell out this time, not with anger, but instead with fear. He can smell it and in the darkness he smiles revealing a crooked set of teeth.
"Oh dear," he says disapprovingly,"and here I thought you were soft material."
Slowly, he removes his gloves as I squint to get some sort of picture. The darkness seems to hide all but his teeth and eyes.
"You see, I find beautiful young women to be the perfect material for various things."
I struggle more and more, but still remain focused on his face. Material? What could he mean.
He reaches into a pocket and pulls out a tiny ivory colored doll.
"So pretty isn't it," he moves it closer to my face and yells at me examine it.
It's a small doll, with chocolate brown hair carved and painted so delicately. She wears only leather clothes and as she pushes it closer the smell overwhelms me.
"You women take such care of your bodies," he pulls it back rapidly and shoves it away,"unlike us men. Such nice skin, such soft hair, such delicate bones."
"Let me go," I've lost all will to communicate as I slowly figure out what each part of the doll was made of.
"Oh, but no my dear," he cooes as he drags a finger down my face,"your materials are surely the best I've ever seen."
He pulls a rag out of his pocket and gives me a small smile. His finger drawing small circles on my cheek as I thrash about.
"Anything else you'd like to know," I can see the rag getting closer to my face. I can feel myself being pulled farther and farther away.
"Why me," my voice is meek and delicate once more.
"Simple really, I love these little knick knacks I made for my friends," his voice seems to grow farther away,"but I spent so much time for those I never made myself any. I want only the best for my knick knacks."
With that my face is covered by the rag and my mind covered with darkness.
live long&prosper 
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