a story: part three of part one

a story.

part three of part one

(the final part)

Again, i speak. My mouth flaps like a waving flag covered in brown. Sovereignty. Professions. The light is charming. “Hello. You’re great. Thanks for not leaving me alone in the dark. You know, that’s special. You’re special, a special light. Yeah.” You’re talking to a light. Thoughts in my head are always so critical. Critical, yet unimportant. That's crucial.

            The light is good at being a light. i think i’ll leave it at that, yeah.

            When i was a boy, i had a goldfish. His (?) name was Freddy probably because as a dumb kid i liked alliteration even though i didn’t know what it was. Freddy was stolen from his family by me from a dumpy pond filled with spiders and twigs and beer bottles discarded by “those youngsters”. Freddy came home with me and i put him in a fish bowl so he could move out of his parents pond and even though his new place was dumpy it didn’t have beer bottles in it. If Freddy could talk, he would say “Independence. Fuck yeah.” i liked Freddy. He was good at being a goldfish.

            After Freddy died because that’s just how things are, i went back to the pond and i saw a stupid baby frog or toad hopping around like a jerk-off. His name was probably Hopper or something creative like that. my grandma picked me up from the pond and i showed her Hopper and probably she was scared, but she didn’t mention anything. When we got back to her home she grabbed an empty jar and we filled it with dirt and water and some grass and other stupid things to remind Hopper of his former life. With a knife, i poked some holes in the top of his jar (so he could breathe and not die).

That terrible cartoon movie about that jungle-dude came out that day and like an idiot kid i wanted to go see it. Idiot kid. Idiot. Kid. Still young. Feel old.

           

my father came to grab me from my grandmother’s home. He pulled up and i got in the car all excited. The sun was nice and bright. Hopper, my father, and i went to the theatre to see the movie. Hopper stayed in the car because (i imagine) my father didn’t want to pay for a third ticket or something. On the dashboard. i came back to the car after the movie and Hopper wasn’t moving and he didn’t look like Hopper any more. His skin was leather and he looked like a soccer mom from an adult film. Dead inside. Dead outside.

i was young sorry

Confessions. This is my confession to the orange light on the wall. That beautiful orange light. Fuck. That was a mistake. People make mistakes. Since then i've stopped stealing animals away from their families because truthfully it is probably not that good of an idea especially since i exhale bad air and all animals need air – even fish and jerk-off frogs. Lights don’t need air i don’t think.

“Do lights need air?”

And then the light turned off.