Was it the ‘witching’ hour on Market Street San Francisco, California U.S.A? Everybody thought they heard screaming? –or, did it echo more of a mythological tone, nonetheless, the woman did in fact startle the rush hour crowd as she ripped off her clothes. The scream was memorable, as was she …
Just then, James Redburn got off work. He was on that same Market Street, walking to the subway. He was excited. Inside his head he heard the recording of the subway public announcer announce the arrival of his train. But he took a step back as he saw something to his right. It was a river of people several blocks away. They were running his way, with no intention of stopping.
James found a nook on one of Market Streets’ many, for protection. He was exhausted from work and the thought of out-running the crowd never entered his mind. With a step, he was fully protected now. He even relaxed to enhance the experience. Finally the naked woman came into clear view. She echoed more of a mythological tone ---his thoughts:
“She was running in and out of the crowd, nonetheless, never a touch was passed by her to any others. I think tomorrow on the front-page of The Diametric Newspaper I’ll read: A Goddess lives amongst us’!’ The timing of her ballet-like movements was uncanny, proving, maybe; she actually was not of this world! –A Goddess?! Her brown locks were blowing like a Willow Tree, ‘just as withe as Willows boughs’,” he screamed to her as she passed.
And she screamed back, “It’s all because I’m a V.I.P. ---a very important person. Tonight I’m going to the big event!” And then she said, “Follow me!” James followed. They ran so fast and so far they were now alone. She stopped in front of a building on Bush Street. This is it, she said. They walked in and were soon inside her apartment.
She sat down next to James. I’m holding, she said, and pulled out a silver canister. Do you indulge? –she asked, and James nodded.
She assembled something and moved closer to James. She was touching him and then she kissed him ---“That’s good. Now it should just take a minute. It’ll be in a minute.”
James was asked if he felt better, all he could do was nod, “Yes.”
She moved closer to James ---“Are you with us James?”
“Huh …who ---us?” James asked.
“Are you with us?!”
“Of course, I’m loyal! The canister is almost empty, isn’t it?”
“That’s very good,” she said and walked to her bedroom, “But the canister is for me. It’ll keep you manly for hours.”
She pulled out a yoga pad and started stretching. “This is how it begins, at least for me. I need to be loose.” She stretched for a few minutes and then walked to her closet. She turned to James, “It’ll probably be colder tonight. Huh?” She put an overcoat on. She grabbed a fedora hat, as James stared at her as she adjusted it. James thought she should have worn the coat regardless of the weather, and the hat. “Are you ready James? Can you walk?”
“Let’s go,” James grabbed her hand.
Soon they were on the lorry going downtown. They grabbed a seat in the back. She pulled her fedora cap down. They moved closer together, watched the San Francisco Bay pass by.
Soon they were there, where she was a V.I.P. ---“At the event.” They showed the guard their very important pass. With a smile the guard showed them the door, “We’ve been waiting, thanks for coming.”
With James’s arm on his date he grabbed the door-knob ---entering through. The laughter exploded in their ears. They were disoriented. James was alone.
A man (Zeus) whisked her away and held the goddess high in his arms. A woman ran over and ran her hands threw his wavy hair. With one hand holding the ‘goddess’, and somehow maybe a flinch, he brushed the other woman aside. He then threw her to a man that had his arms crossed ---yet at complete attention. He caught her, and a “Squeal,” came from the goddess.
The man raised his hands, fell to the floor, and screamed at the moon. He looked at a man next to him. He just laughed and grabbed the man’s throat. The man vomited. They started to wrestle (Zeus and Hercules). A woman screamed, “Draw,” and they stopped.
Another woman ran over and rubbed her hands down his sweaty chest, and dried her fingers on his beautiful wavy thick hair. The man brushed her away.
It was then ---rage, carnage. He screamed and grabbed another man. They began wrestling. Two men ran to James’s side and restrained him as the ‘Goddess’ was thrown ---‘in the mix’ …
The End
Monday, October 25, 2010
Friday, October 22, 2010
Patterns of Madness
Dr. James Redburn turned his alarm clock off before the buzzing started. His biological clock, his physiology, and the mechanized world’s clock were now in synchronicity, in rhythm. It had gone that far. It pulled and stretched. But, it was the mechanized world of the flesh, the human machine: the kidneys, the liver, heart and lungs, the blood, plasma and all the inner workings of the human body was where this stretch and pull had crystallized. Now James considered himself an excellent physician, and also, was thought an excellent physician by his colleagues.
His hands were intricate tools. They were child-like in their appearance, small, strong and lean, symmetrical in every way. There wasn’t a kink or a blemish on any of his fingers. But …the greatest residue left by this new collaboration, this crystallization, was the blending the belonging, the incredible confidence James now felt. Was it the cause, or the effect from the pull and stretch? Nonetheless, it was all committed to memory, all absorbed, as was James. Nothing could be done.
First, it was that one dream. Then it was the other dream. James was a murderer, in his dreams. He was killing people. But the dreams were still hazy, blurry, full of dread, and anxiety. He was forced to watch and re-watch a surgery that he had performed ---with mistakes. It was unthinkable, again and again.
He saw himself operate, yet was unable to correct those past mistakes. To get to here, sometimes you have to lift the spleen or twist a section of the gut. It would be easy to leave a nick with your scalpel.
But still: hazy, blurry were his dreams, so James started fitting in the empty pieces of the ghoulish puzzle with his own thoughts. The self torture was under way. It was a correction that should have taken place long ago. The pattern seemed inescapable: The pattern of madness!!
Suddenly, at the hospital where James worked at an accident was heard! It was horrible, unthinkable. The hospital where James worked at was privy to this information immediately. The preparations were under way. It was a well-coordinated chaotic attack to try to save lives. Already the estimate was sixty five dead and twice that amount injured. Everybody was needed. Every person involved with the inner workings of the hospital would have their schedule tossed and juggled. It could possibly go on for days.
They brought the injured in. The people closest to the end would be looked at first, evaluated, put on medication, or brought to the surgery room (OR). It went on and on. A woman needing radical surgery was still on a stretcher in the lobby. Judgments had to be made immediately. Her next breath could be her last. Others could be saved now. She would be left, on a stretcher, exactly where she was brought in.
One day later the woman on the stretcher, that others thought her next breath could be her last, was still breathing. They brought her into James’s element, the main operating theatre. There he morphed everybody’s shadow. The rows of seats ran up twenty feet in every direction for observation. Other doctors, colleagues, doctors from away as seven hundred miles, and the friends and family of the victim filled the forum.
His intricate tools, his hands, grabbed a scalpel and started to cut. James was in his element, but not completely comfortable? How long can a person go without sleep? But, at first, the operation was going better than expected.
James was almost ready to close-up the patient ---successful! He was almost finished. But when he turned to accept the accolades he saw that his scalpel nicked an artery, a main vein, something? Perhaps his scalpel nicked an organ. He saw the blood start to trickle out. He continued accepting the accolades, and with a quick stitch closed the soon to be dead patient up.
The End
His hands were intricate tools. They were child-like in their appearance, small, strong and lean, symmetrical in every way. There wasn’t a kink or a blemish on any of his fingers. But …the greatest residue left by this new collaboration, this crystallization, was the blending the belonging, the incredible confidence James now felt. Was it the cause, or the effect from the pull and stretch? Nonetheless, it was all committed to memory, all absorbed, as was James. Nothing could be done.
First, it was that one dream. Then it was the other dream. James was a murderer, in his dreams. He was killing people. But the dreams were still hazy, blurry, full of dread, and anxiety. He was forced to watch and re-watch a surgery that he had performed ---with mistakes. It was unthinkable, again and again.
He saw himself operate, yet was unable to correct those past mistakes. To get to here, sometimes you have to lift the spleen or twist a section of the gut. It would be easy to leave a nick with your scalpel.
But still: hazy, blurry were his dreams, so James started fitting in the empty pieces of the ghoulish puzzle with his own thoughts. The self torture was under way. It was a correction that should have taken place long ago. The pattern seemed inescapable: The pattern of madness!!
Suddenly, at the hospital where James worked at an accident was heard! It was horrible, unthinkable. The hospital where James worked at was privy to this information immediately. The preparations were under way. It was a well-coordinated chaotic attack to try to save lives. Already the estimate was sixty five dead and twice that amount injured. Everybody was needed. Every person involved with the inner workings of the hospital would have their schedule tossed and juggled. It could possibly go on for days.
They brought the injured in. The people closest to the end would be looked at first, evaluated, put on medication, or brought to the surgery room (OR). It went on and on. A woman needing radical surgery was still on a stretcher in the lobby. Judgments had to be made immediately. Her next breath could be her last. Others could be saved now. She would be left, on a stretcher, exactly where she was brought in.
One day later the woman on the stretcher, that others thought her next breath could be her last, was still breathing. They brought her into James’s element, the main operating theatre. There he morphed everybody’s shadow. The rows of seats ran up twenty feet in every direction for observation. Other doctors, colleagues, doctors from away as seven hundred miles, and the friends and family of the victim filled the forum.
His intricate tools, his hands, grabbed a scalpel and started to cut. James was in his element, but not completely comfortable? How long can a person go without sleep? But, at first, the operation was going better than expected.
James was almost ready to close-up the patient ---successful! He was almost finished. But when he turned to accept the accolades he saw that his scalpel nicked an artery, a main vein, something? Perhaps his scalpel nicked an organ. He saw the blood start to trickle out. He continued accepting the accolades, and with a quick stitch closed the soon to be dead patient up.
The End
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
The Job Market
At Saint Mercy Hospital the doctor whisked up the newborn, “Could it be!” Everybody in the room squealed. He held the newborn as high as he could. Everybody had to be sure. Could the news actually be this good, that a future, a wonderful future actually existed for the newborn? They had to be sure.
Since the blueprints were attached to the baby, the doctor gave the nod, “Yes,” to the friends and family, another Redburn had successfully entered the world ---healthy, and their dreams had come true! Their waiting to reassure could finally end, and “Sighs” were heard, followed with hugs and congratulating, “The child prodigy.” The celebrating could have gone on for three days.
And then the news got even better. The doctor apologized for not noticing this earlier, but the child was going to be double-jointed. “Yes, a future does indeed exist for another generation of the Redburn’s!” It was a day never to be forgotten. “He is so lucky, a model of genetics leading to a comfortable and illustrious life,” the doctor said as they left.
The days and then the months passed. After the cries from a baby turned to even more pronounced toddler cries they introduced him to his obvious future, with a curriculum all its own. With him being double-jointed everything came so easily. Those ‘so-called’ toddler fits almost never applied to the young Redburn. He was ---The Natural! He had all the necessary ingredients to be a Star! ---To touch and hold the all elusive …Glory!
The happy days touched each other, blending the years, with happy memories. When the child turned into an adolescent, in tune with his curriculum, his father and mother took him to Golden Gate Park. The young Redburn held both his mothers and fathers hand as they swung him, every Saturday and Sunday, to the park to learn about all the plants there. After just one week he began to speak the plant language, Latin, as he identified each and every plant, correctly pronouncing, “Ovate, Oborate, and Pinnate.”
The day he graduated high school his father handed him the correspondence course, and he began to study. It was supposed to take six months, but he completed the course in six days, with the results: Well-received! His whole life was ahead of him.
His application was accepted immediately. He’d start work next Monday, ‘maintaining’ Golden Gate Park. With the young Redburn being double-jointed he was able to pick-up twice the trash of a 'mere normal mortal', thus, colloquially, the young Redburn was simply known as ---Mr. Job security! -with a great future, and a title even: Filth-Picker!! ---just like the blueprints said!!!
The End
Since the blueprints were attached to the baby, the doctor gave the nod, “Yes,” to the friends and family, another Redburn had successfully entered the world ---healthy, and their dreams had come true! Their waiting to reassure could finally end, and “Sighs” were heard, followed with hugs and congratulating, “The child prodigy.” The celebrating could have gone on for three days.
And then the news got even better. The doctor apologized for not noticing this earlier, but the child was going to be double-jointed. “Yes, a future does indeed exist for another generation of the Redburn’s!” It was a day never to be forgotten. “He is so lucky, a model of genetics leading to a comfortable and illustrious life,” the doctor said as they left.
The days and then the months passed. After the cries from a baby turned to even more pronounced toddler cries they introduced him to his obvious future, with a curriculum all its own. With him being double-jointed everything came so easily. Those ‘so-called’ toddler fits almost never applied to the young Redburn. He was ---The Natural! He had all the necessary ingredients to be a Star! ---To touch and hold the all elusive …Glory!
The happy days touched each other, blending the years, with happy memories. When the child turned into an adolescent, in tune with his curriculum, his father and mother took him to Golden Gate Park. The young Redburn held both his mothers and fathers hand as they swung him, every Saturday and Sunday, to the park to learn about all the plants there. After just one week he began to speak the plant language, Latin, as he identified each and every plant, correctly pronouncing, “Ovate, Oborate, and Pinnate.”
The day he graduated high school his father handed him the correspondence course, and he began to study. It was supposed to take six months, but he completed the course in six days, with the results: Well-received! His whole life was ahead of him.
His application was accepted immediately. He’d start work next Monday, ‘maintaining’ Golden Gate Park. With the young Redburn being double-jointed he was able to pick-up twice the trash of a 'mere normal mortal', thus, colloquially, the young Redburn was simply known as ---Mr. Job security! -with a great future, and a title even: Filth-Picker!! ---just like the blueprints said!!!
The End
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