94 lines
6.1 KiB
Plaintext
94 lines
6.1 KiB
Plaintext
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. .. __________________ _________________________________________.. .
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. .. _________. \| _____________/ _____________.. .
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| | \ |___________\ \
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| | \ / \ _____ \
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____| | \ /__/\_____/ | \
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\ / ________/ | .dp. /
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\ / | \ /
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\_______________ / | \__________________ /
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\/| | \/
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Damned Fucking Shit! | | Title: Untitled
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Issue #46 | : Date: 10/13/94
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Editor: Access Denied | . By: Vlad The Impaler
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:
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.
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------------------------------------------------------------------------------
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Untitled
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I could only be dreaming. I walked down the cobblestone street well
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after midnight, the arcane streetlamps casting glowing circles on the ground,
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giving the night mist a whispy ghost-like appearance. The street had little
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garbage on it, besides a few crumpled leaves lying dead on the sidewalk
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stirring in small cyclones from a gentle breeze now and again. Above, the
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night sky hung dark and foreboding, starless although cloudless. I lowered
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my gaze, suddenly frightened of the inky blackness, of the feeling that there
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was nothing to hold me down, that I might just float away into space at any
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second. I knew it was a foolish fear, but the human race had many such fears.
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A child might stay away from a dark basement like the plague, knowing in
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her mind there was nothing down there to harm her, knowing in her soul
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that a painfull death awaited her at the bottom of the stairs. I looked
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down, keeping my eyes on the ground directly in front of my feet, watching
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the gray-red brick pass below me. I looked slightly up ahead of me, trying
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to find a streetsign in the gloom to tell me where I was, whether I
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was nearly home, whether I was hopelessly lost. I could not yet see an
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intersection ahead of me, but I peered forward nonetheless, trying to make
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out the shape of the sign even through the blackness. What I did see stopped
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me dead in my tracks. A man seemed to materialize out of the fog, striding
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swiftly forward, his long black coat billowing out behind him. He took long,
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quick steps toward me, and though I could not yet make out a singly feature
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on his face I knew he was staring into my eyes. I told my legs to move, to
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keep walking, to move past the man as quickly as I could and put him behind
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me as fast as I could, and slowly they did move. He was closer now. I could
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tell he had short, neatly combed black hair and a black beard that sharpened
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the angles of his jaw. His deep-set eyes peered at me out of the darkness
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of his brow, twinkling at the fear he saw in my eyes. I tried to keep my
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legs steady as I came yet closer to him and found I could not. My knees
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began to shake and I could not move any further. I fell to my knees under
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his gaze, never able to take my eyes away from the tiny black orbs of his
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eyes. He was walking in a path directly towards me. He knew I was afraid,
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he could plainly see it in my eyes if not my trembling shoulders, my pale,
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sweating forehead, my stricken position. He lifted his left arm and reached
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inside his coat. Time stood still. I felt myself go rigid with fear.
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Slowly, ever so slowly, he removed his hand from his coat. He was almost on
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top of my now, his gaze still direct on my eyes, his pace never slowed. I
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pictured a thousand times in my head the man pulling a handgun from his
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hidden pocket and quickly, calmly ending my life, his gaze never straying
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from mine. I pictured him pulling a sword from a hidden scabbord, cleanly
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taking my head off, his glistening toung licking his lips as he watched my
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life slip quickly away. I saw him murder me, over and over again, in the
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time it took for me to blink my eyes. He now stopped, directly over me, arm
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still inside his black coat. His lips parted, he drew a steady breath, and in
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a deep voice instructed "Hold your hands out to me." Unable to do
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otherwise, not even having the strength left to run, I held out my hands.
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"Get up." he commanded to me. I rose on two shaking legs, arms still
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outstretched to him as I nearly fainted with fright. His gaze finally
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lowered, and he withdrew from underneath the thick black cloth of his coat
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not a gun, not a knife, but a simple can of spam. He placed it in my hands,
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nodded to me, and walked away into the night, leaving me standing in the
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middle of the street holding a can of spam like a madman.
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Find DFS On These Fine Systems
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==========================================================================
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| Paradise Lost +1.414.476.3181 DFS World HQ |
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| Temporary Insanity +1.414.666.WHEE DFS Affiliate HQ |
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| Arcane Asylum +1.414.PSY.CHOS DFS Thingy HQ |
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| Plan 9 Information Archives +1.716.881.FONE (3663) DFS Southern HQ |
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| Arrested Development +31.77.547477 DFS European HQ |
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| Under World Element +1.203.740.9571 DFS Eastern HQ |
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| 7th Heaven +1.216.464.6789 DFS Ohio HQ |
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| Lucifer's Exile +1.513.459.1278 DFS Midwest HQ |
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| Twilight Of The Idols +1.613.226.3386 DFS Canada HQ |
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| |
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| AE - Plan 9 Information Archives - Login: DFS |
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| FTP - etext.archive.umich.edu - /pub/Zines/DFS |
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| To submit, call Paradise Lost and log on as DFS. The password is: |
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| JINGLE JINGLE |
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==========================================================================
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