Tuesday, March 19, 2013

ARNOLD W. FISHBURNE

Arnold W. Fishburne awoke one morning and realized he would never be truly happy.  He laid in bed and stared up at his cracked ceiling and listened to the rain beat down on his roof.  Nothing made him happy, but nothing made him unhappy either.  Arnold W. Fishburne had never had a feeling.  He had never felt sad, mopey, or depressed.  He had never felt happy, confident, or joyful.  In fact the realization he just had didn’t really evoke any sort of feeling.  He wondered for a moment what the point of realizing things was if it wasn’t going to affect you in some way.  Then he realized that this was stupid to even think about since he didn’t really care.  Arnold W. Fishburne was a very boring character, he usually woke every day around the same time and began staring up at his ceiling without feeling anything.  He would get out of bed and not feel the jarring cold of the hardwood floor next to his bed.  He would stumble to the shower and not feel the scalding hot water burn the dead skin and the futility of a life without feeling away.  He wouldn’t feel cramped and claustrophobic as he tightened his tie.

Arnold W. Fishburne was a manager at a shipping company who had no feelings.  When he talked of safety, service, and production, he never got the same elation that the other managers did.  When his employees didn’t work hard he wasn’t mad.  When his superiors reprimanded him for not meeting expectations he felt no shame nor want to do better.  He didn’t feel the slow surging ache in his feet from the steel toed  boots he was required to wear while in the operations.  The sharp pain in his lower back that came every time he helped lift a heavy package, did not manage to jar him.  In fact, sometimes Arnold had trouble feeling the ground beneath his feet and thus was prone to falling down.  His clumsiness made him the subject of a lot of jokes, but even this didn’t hurt his feelings, because you can not hurt that which isn’t there.

One night, after a long day Arnold laid down on his bed, not because he felt tired, but because at night you lay down on your bed.  He laid awake staring at the ceiling and didn’t feel the extreme monotony of the day seeping out of him into his sheets.  Arnold could barely even feel the mattress beneath him.  Which was a good thing because it was quite lumpy.  Eventually sleep came as it does for us all.  And then the dream because all men dream.

Arnold was walking barefoot in tall extremely bright green grass.  He could feel twigs crunch as he walked along.  He could feel the warm wet breeze blowing his way from a nearby lake.  He could feel the sun hot on his neck and he could feel little droplets of sweat beading up on the ends of his hair.  HE COULD FEEL!!  He ran just to feel the air in his lungs and his heart pumping harder.  Arnold saw a tree and he hugged it.  The bark scraped his arms and he felt the immovable giant, a century old.  He kicked the tree with all his might and let out a Neanderthalic yulp.  Tears of joy streamed out of his eyes.  Arnold sat down at the base of the tree and smiled the widest smile that had ever been stretched across any face.

While Arnold sat there he noticed a little doe bending down near the lake to drink.  He ran to touch it.  It scampered away.  Arnold chased it but no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t catch the doe.  Somehow he knew it held his salvation, he must touch it.  It looked at him with knowing eyes and stopped to lap up some rain water collected on a rock.  Arnold could barely breathe as he crept toward the strange woodland creature.  His hands outstretched he hears no sound but the deer’s gentle slurp.  He reached the deer his hand outstretched.  He touched her and felt how soft she was.  The deer leaned forward and stood on her front legs.  For a moment her hind legs were in the air.  And then she kicked back with both of them straight into Arnold W. Fishburne’s crotch.

The deer scampered away again.  Arnold felt a deep pain surging from his crotch, ground zero, the epicenter sending hot shockwaves of pain throughout his body.  Through sobs he screamed “I NO LONGER WANT TO FEEL!!!!!”.  Arnold W. Fishburne emptied his stomach as it contorted with a pain he had never felt.  His genitals throbbed and his heart felt as if it would burst.  Just when he thought he couldn’t take anymore.  He woke.  He felt nothing.  The dream was over the numbness returned.  

HAPPY HOUR

HAPPY HOUR WEEKDAYS 3-6  
     Three happy hours in one bar.  Is the alcohol making me happy, or is it the prices?

RAIL HIGH BALLS  
     That sounds dangerously sexual.  But for $2 who wouldn't partake in this discounted sexy danger?

SOME EXCLUSIONS APPLY    
     I'd rather they didn't and save the Human Resources department a lot of trouble.

MONDAY - FRIDAY    
     Escape!

Friday, March 1, 2013

A touch and Breeze

A touch and a breeze
While the Indian summer makes lover’s sweat of us all
The night chills the dewdrop skin while naked shapes caress  in the moon shadow
To be young and gone and turned on and beautiful is living in twilight
Everything is immediate
Fleeting and inconstant
The fire engine red leaves fall and turn brown
Swept up and mulched
The lovers part making way for the cold
Blizzards rage and the lips pressed together are chapped
Dried up and bleeding
Then while the world is quiet and empty and white
There seems to be nothing else and they reach once again
And their lust melts the snow
Hearths and  hearts fogging up windows with their hot wet panting breath
But the wind becomes warm
Marigolds and daffodils bloom
He can’t remember which she liked and they drift apart on the warm breeze
Spring has sprung and the lovers know that another season is just round the bend
A touch and a breeze and it’s gone