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My dad gave me alot of things


veronica always showed up late to the hub, slouching and lumbering and carrying that god-awful leopard-shin keychain. let me explain: the hub was a place of overripe brick and from i'm told, good coffee, a meeting house of psuedo-intelectual minds; with varying concerns depending on their immediate lifestyle. its a one-story chicken coop of stupidity. the people: pithed, plastic, polyamorous battle toads warbling through life, spending the better parts either drinking coffee or guzzling alcohol. if human beings were light, this place would be a black hole. and yet i sit and stagnate, soaking in THE DIM and counting similarities. i am worried. veronica's....uh, i don't think I can describe what I feel for her, but the beach is in her arms, the mountains are in her eyes, the moon is in her kiss, and she wears the sky in a ponytail. i think i might be in love with her, its just that she has this stupid theory that all life as we know it exists in two dimensional planes. the first is in the form of words printed on several pieces of paper. the second is in the form of electromagnetic pulses in the "Creators" computer. according to her, my reality is that i'm a character in a short story. which isn't all that uninteresting, when you think about it. see, veronica used to be pretty normal (i know, i hate the word 'normal' as well, but when a person walks around with a leopard shin and talks about how reality exists as a short story printed in multiple forms and at the same type is nothing more than pulses of positive and negative energy, you gotta start wondering about how big their wheaties flakes are, if you get my drift). all through high school she was into popularity, ponies, good grades, anorexia nervosa, and track. then one night, her father gets drunk and busts into her bedroom late at night. he jumps on the bed waving a bottle of tequila, and straddles his seventeen year old daughter's chest. there is no touching. there is no penetration. he simply jerks off onto her face. as veronica sobs uncontrollably, he calmly starts to speak . "there are people all over the world who will experience so much worse than what has happened to you. there are people all over the world who will never have as much suffering as you wil have." now this is where it gets hazy. veronica can't recall everything, she was terrorized and in shock and stuff. but apparently her father was in some sort of cult or clan or something. and some day in her future, veronica will have to use the leopard shin in order to save the world, tra la la. he hands her the shin, and she goes into some sort of astral projection or something. thats when she sees this freaky kid, sitting in a closet typing reality. hence her theory. her father never speaks to her again, and on her eighteenth birthday hands her ten thousand dollars and tells her to get the fuck out. ever since then..well, you know.. veronica, blonde hair in a ponytail, blue eyes behind slim-rimmed glasses- had just emerged from the hub with her usual coffee. she plops down her purse and we sit, backs against the wall, in the alcove below the window that used to be the bathroom. even though there isn't a sign on her face, i can tell by her eyes she has been crying severely. if i didn't know her so well, i would have never known; what- with that radiant smile and all. i didn't insult her intelligence by asking what was wrong. she was honest she'd tell me on her all. but all she did was look into my eyes and tearfully say "tonight." -tonight what? ".every vibe starts out the same and must be experienced a little before it can be recognized." she wanted to cry, but held back. "tonight's big archie...real big." veronica leaned over and gave me a big hug, rubbing her nipples up my chest like always. i really liked the way she hugged. -big good...big bad? her head was cradled on my shoulder, and i felt bad for not wearing deoderant. she shrugged, then sniffled. "i wonder if i get to use the shin?" - i wonder if i get to use the penis. her eyes narrowed. "first of all, I get to use the penis, you just provide it. second, no. tonight's wierd. someone could die." - i'm not that lucky, and i don't think you can. didn't you say that the Writer made you invincible. veronica laughed, but she still seemed worried. then perplexed, and her eyes opened wide and she whispered "yeah...actually, He did..but when i realised that in the projection, i reached into my pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper," she exclaimed, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a folded piece of paper," the writer typed on his computer. it had been a boring day, there was nothing to do, and no will to go. the sprinklers were almost finished, but it was taking too long. the reality of no alcohol was sitting in and mixing with the extreme lack of tobacco, and a waning desire to eat junk food; much to the chagrin of his chemical addictions. there was pressure for a house. there was pressure for a life, and a job and a career and an outlet, and pressure to walk away from his dreams. he was very optomistic anyway, there really isn't a reason not to be. no beer to drink, only resin to smoke, and his balding head itching like hell, he went back to typing as his future sat on his chest and masturbated on his face. he wrote on... veronica and archie stared at the paper as it opened. there were only two words. "THE END" | back |