Tuesday, March 06, 2007

Lost Dog

In the warmthless dusk of the red giant sun, a top a mountain range on the boiled away ocean sea floor, on Earth at the end of days, is a vast stone tablet, stolen from a bible movie, used by time travelers as a kind of message board. The scripts are extremely varied and palimpsest, ranging from neat Hangul to obscenities in scratched Volapuk, to an indecipherable and giant alien hand that seems to crawl up the sides and around the back, that is often a cause of wonder and concern among travelers. It is so huge it is usually taken for a meteorite strike, increasingly common through the thinning atmosphere, only upon closer inspection, it has an unmistakable, but distinctly inhuman regularity to it. By some trick of the light, it seems to writhe as you walk around the tablet, and no traveler traces the strange tentacle like marks without something of a shudder as to their meaning.

Even stranger is the presence of ancient languages predating the era of known time travel, Sumerian, Old English and French.

Here are some selections from when I was there last:

"I taught love to a race of filthy cave people that only knew fucking. All I got was a pleasant summer of spoiled fruit, a way to stay warm in the winter, and an ill-made spear in my back. Perish Albion."


"Polymath Frenchman and open-minded Englishman seek well-hung sailor for good times across time. We saw it all coming, now you can, too"


"There is a fire
In your Mother's house I know
Because I set that fire
And she ran
To save your baby pictures
But the fire ran fast
Because I used gasoline

And how she tried
To keep your dollies and ribbons
And awards
That you won in the Tenth grade
But they burned
In her arms
And her hair

And as I watched it burn
And made sure your mother never came out
I thought of you
And your delightful baby pictures
Like a bug
In your little blankies
What a shame
What an awful, awful shame

Now we sit
In a restaurant by the river
And we laugh
Because champagne makes you laugh
And because I say
Time, time you know is like a river
And, not, not like a
A burning house"

"Lost: Tin Dog. Answers to whistle and polite address."

I looked for my friend, but he was not there.

TURN #104: WEEK 90; WORDS: 104,851; NEXT BY 14 MARCH 2007

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