Tales of Terria – Meat market
“Why is this planet named literally ‘dirt’? Couldnt they come up with something better? Maybe … uh… sandy.. something. Maybe something about glistening sand? Something happy?”
“Goddammit shut the fuck up and do your fucking job.”
“Fine.”
He turned around and his tail almost knocked over an empty cage.
His boss waved a cleaver at him, threateningly, even if sarcastic.. “No happy tails in the meat market! You’re going to knock everything over!”
“Oh. uh.. sorry.”
His tail drooped down again, but in a very restrained unnaturally feeling manner.
His boss waved his cleaver around, “Y’ might end up with a tip cut off. Or even more than just a tip.”
Craig smirked, “Just the tip?” He gyrated his hip a little.
“Just a bit of a snip of the tippy tip!” His boss slammed the meat cleaver down on the chopping block of wood.
Craig jumped. His boss laughed. A creature in a cage behind screeched.
His boss picked up the meat cleaver again, and waved it around like a conductor’s baton.
“Come one. Come all. Just buy the tippy tip of the cleaver’s snip. Nice with soup and great for the family!”
Craig cupped his hand over his mouth. “buy it now at Jerry’s meat market. just $49.99 per pound. GREAT DEALS!!!!! ALWAYSS!!!”
His boss burst into uproarious laughter.
Craig leaned with his back against the table. His tail flicked. “wonder if people would actually buy it.”
His boss waived his hand, “people will buy anything. Its food. who cares what it is.”
Craig whistled,”Well.. yeah you’re right.”
His boss continued, “If they can shove it down their gullet, they dont care. Hell, if we chopped off everyone’s tail and fed it to them, then we’d solve a lot of problems in this country……………………… no more awkwardly smacking people and also a good nice meal.” He chuckled.
Craig pulled his tail close to his body and laughed nervously with his boss. “aaaah well….. if we chopped off everyone’s balls, this country would have a lot of problems solved.” Craig grit his teeth after saying that, but covered it up with a smile.
His boss smirked and cocked his cleaver back and forth. “Nuh uh uh..”, he moved closer to Craig and waved his finger, grinning. “if we did that, we’d be out of a job. There’s nothing worse than being jobless.”
“Y-… yeah I suppose… so. .. I mean like.. what else are we supposed to eat? I guess?”
His boss laughed, and spat a little onto craig’s face. Craig flinched and grimaced.
“VEGANS! WE’LL EAT THE VEGANS!!”, his boss cackled.
He leaned closer to Craig and looked into his eyes, “Its a dog eat dog world out there. Quite literally. If people will buy it, we’ll sell it. We’ll pretty it all up, put it into little styrofoam trays, slap a meaningless label onto it and tell them it’ll cure cancer. If I was more slick, I’d convince them a miracle cure was to cut of the tip of their dick and give it to me… only for me to sell it back to them as some sort of soup or elixir.”
Craig nodded his head and stared for a second. Tail still frozen and clutched to his body.
His boss whistled and avoided eye contact for a bit, before darting back to look at craig, “And aah, no happy tails in the meat market!”
Craig nodded and gave a thumbs up, “understood.. boss! You’re the man.”
Craig got home and sent applications off to about 50 different businesses.
Suicide
I sat in the corner of the room. The lights were off. I did not mean for that to happen. The water was off. I did not mean for that to happen too. There was a nasty smell coming from the refrigerator, and a slow dripping of brown fluid from the freezer. I did not mean for that to happen either. The house was silent. I was alone. I did not mean for that to happen. I didnt mean for any of it to happen. I didnt mean to be so scared and terrified that I ended up in a corner of a room. I did not mean for the refrigerator to be empty. I did not mean to not check the mail. I did not mean to not go to my job. I did not mean to not leave the house. I did not mean to not leave this corner.
I will not leave this corner.
I am like the brown liquid, dripping slowly from the freezer, and soon I too, will be dripping. I will join the freezer. We will be together. Always looking at each other from the opposite sides of the room, never leaving each other’s gaze. like a happily married old couple. There will be silence. There will be no screaming. There will be no crying. There will be peace. Like a happily married old couple. Just me and the refrigerator.
We will never leave this house. We will never have children. We will decay with each other. Like a happily married old couple. We will become one with the floor below us, in silence with the rafters above. To become one with nature and the floor tiles.
Diligence is what this is about. Patience. Sleep. Never moving. Never talking. Never talking back. Never arguing. Never feeling anything.
I am like a blade of grass planted on a slab of concrete. Always waiting for rainfall that never occurred and always screaming at the sun who gave me life but burned my exposed roots. The rain never came, the sun never ceased rising in the morning, and I never ended up in soil where other blades of grass were. I will sit here and watch my roots wither and my stems wilt, until I shrivel up and the wind blows me away.
I will wed my refrigerator and we will be one for all eternity.
Earth
It was dark. The street which was usually lined with street lamps and porchlights was pitch black. The power had gone out. All was silent.
Slowly out of nearly every home, people’s silhouettes appeared from behind closed doors. Peering out like creatures who live under rocks. Stepping outside unwillingly like it was imperative to survival.
I have never seen the stars so bright, and the city so silent. Is this what life was like hundreds of years ago? silent. dark. Is this what life was like thousands of years ago? millions of years ago? billions of years ago? when life was just slime coating rocks in an unstable environment.. the stars peering down, watching the beginnings of dna forming, like eternal sentinels.
Rosemarie stepped out onto her porch. The computer went out. The tv went out. The kitchen. The livingroom. Everything in the house. All work ceased. No homework, no internet, no distractions, no politics, no reading. And no guilt because of an event she had no power over. It was like god had swung his hand down and ceased modern society, when all it took was a blown transformer.
She looked back to the stars. What was life before the noise? What was it like to have to fight for the things we take for granted? What was it like to have to worry about water instead of worrying about what shoes are business-casual?
For a moment there, the world seemed real. Gritty. Tangible. Earthy. Like an untameable animal. Wild and pure. Eternal, and imposing. Terrifying but exciting.
Her phone vibrated and she looked down at her pocket. She took it out and checked her notifications, and in that instant all those thoughts disappeared. The lights came back on, and slamming doors and a mixed collection of curses and sighs were heard throughout the neighborhood. Now, what shoes exactly are business casual?
hjjhjhjhjhj
No amount of beauty can await our own death. The death of self. The cessation of existence. We write ourselves in and out of this system. Undulating and ebbing in and out. Drowning us with our own flow. Death and life are the same, equal and harmonic. We are neither dead nor alive, but trapped as ghosts in a body with a fixated point in time. That point always at the mercy of the weave of time. We’re but a piece of wood in a river. Perhaps, the wood is still alive… perhaps it is dead. We will never know. The day we reach shore is a day I eagerly await.
It is raining. The curtains are drawn, and the sun peeks over the horizon at points to lay an orange light through the rain. Soft and red. Rose, even.
Fingers reach out to part the curtain. Looking off into the distance. There, down the road lies the end of the world. Where the sun meets the horizon, and bleeds across the pavement. Golden liquid, touched with wet asphalt on all corners.
What day is it? Is it dawn or dusk? Does it matter.. does anything matter? No matter what we do, we cant change our past. It haunts us like a lion stalking an injured deer. Waiting for us to finally become too exhausted to continue on, and to lie down and succumb to its torment. At the end of the road is always death. Where the fire of the sun meets the earth and goes to the underworld, leaving behind its golden entrails, reflected in the rain.
Quinn took a step back from the window and closed the curtains. The room was dark. Nothing but the wet damp earth could be smelled. Musty, dark, and old. He took out a cigarette and his lighter. He struck the lighter with his thumb and a golden flame shone as he lit his cigarette. The light reflecting for only a brief moment before fading away in the room.. only the glow of the end of his cigarette could be seen and the occasional smoke obscuring it.
He sat down on the stairs, and watched the last of the sunset peek underneath the door and spill into the room. It crept up the floor like rising floodwaters and reached the edges of the room. Wood paneling, floorboards, and dust. Nobody had lived here for a long time. It didnt matter, nobody will anyhow. As the light crept up in its dying breaths, a reflection of something metallic shot a spot onto the ceiling, like a moth in a dusty room. Nobody will come. Nobody, and I’ll make sure of that. Nobody will come for me, and that will be the end. Nobody will care.
the spot flittered in the air as Quinn moved. The daylight fading from the floor. Quinn stood up and kicked a canister down. the last of the daylight touched upon the liquid that poured from it.
“goodnight sweet prince.” He grinned.
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