We found ourselves bundled comfortably on what I suspect is the world's oldest couch. Only one light shines on the scene. An older man sits across from us, silent and judgmental at the same time. His face is obscured by the smoke of his cigar. In one cupped hand he holds a piece of metal twisted almost beyond recognition. I can tell it is the remains of an RC car.
My guest stares at the hand blatantly, and finally I slap him to get him to stop.
"You could have just asked," he said, rubbing his jaw.
"I don't believe in asking," I shoot back, not taking my eyes off the tiny car.
A half minute more of silence, and then:
"Whaddaya wan' wit me, huh?" A smoky voice comes from the billowing cloud. "Not jus' anyone cin find dis address."
"I'm not just anyone, sir," I say under an arched eyebrow.
"I remember who y'are, girl," the elderly man says.
"I remember what you can do," I say, raising my chin.
"What is going on here?" my guest asks quizzically.
"Shut up," I hiss through the side of my mouth.
Showing posts with label Mystery. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mystery. Show all posts
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
How I Experience Music or, McDonald's and Peanuts.
This is Georg Friedrich Handel's Chaconne (Theme and six variations). I played it last semester for my piano class. It's a lovely song, really, but I also believe is might be a hallucinogen that spreads through the eardrums.
The first thing I learned about this piece, before even the notes, was that it was supposed to be a classy song. Downright royalty-worthy, you might say. My teacher explained it like I was supposed to be playing Versailles, like the idea of that city was supposed to flow from my fingertips. That is not quite what happened.
At the beginning, the Original Theme, everything was okay. I could feel the kings and queens walking down the stairs to the ballroom. I embodied class. From there, it got kind of weird.
At 0:22, Variation One, it begins to diverge. Instead of posh France I suddenly found myself in a physics lab. I was the size of an atom, a nucleus, and for the entire first variation I was trying valiantly and against time to split the nucleus with a large, high-powered laser.
At 0:40, the Second Variation, I find myself at a rally. The only people at this rally are...cats. They are hosting a campaign against breast cancer. I am obliged to offer money. Some felines wave signs, others pass out pamphlets. I wander between tables full of information.
The Third Variation begins at 0:53, and I also begin to taste peanuts. The nutty flavor pervades my senses and the taste will not leave me. It is a ridiculously awkward flavor to have unsuspectingly hoisted upon your tastebuds.
The Fourth begins at 1:10, and once again I am in a hall full of mirrors and princes. The peanuts still grate against my senses, but the pure opulence kills it a little.
1:30 begins the Fifth Variation, and I walk straight from the classy palace into McDonald's. I work behind the counter, serving petulant customers to the hiss and pop of cooking oil. The taste of fries joins with the still-lingering taste of peanuts and it is not a very pleasant combination. I find myself refilling ketchup dispensers and I have visions of pickles.
At 1:45 the Sixth and Final Variation begins. The uncalled-for nastiness of McDonald's is replaced by a chilly mountain top, not unlike the commercials for almost every mint-and-chocolate based confection you can think of. I am climbing up the side of the mountain, ankle-deep in snow. In the middle of the variation I find myself on the same mountain, but in a wooden cabin. I rush out the door and into a snowstorm, and the last thing I see is myself, sliding slowly to the bottom of the snow bank.
Somehow, all of that happens in only two minutes. Don't ask me how.
The first thing I learned about this piece, before even the notes, was that it was supposed to be a classy song. Downright royalty-worthy, you might say. My teacher explained it like I was supposed to be playing Versailles, like the idea of that city was supposed to flow from my fingertips. That is not quite what happened.
At the beginning, the Original Theme, everything was okay. I could feel the kings and queens walking down the stairs to the ballroom. I embodied class. From there, it got kind of weird.
At 0:22, Variation One, it begins to diverge. Instead of posh France I suddenly found myself in a physics lab. I was the size of an atom, a nucleus, and for the entire first variation I was trying valiantly and against time to split the nucleus with a large, high-powered laser.
At 0:40, the Second Variation, I find myself at a rally. The only people at this rally are...cats. They are hosting a campaign against breast cancer. I am obliged to offer money. Some felines wave signs, others pass out pamphlets. I wander between tables full of information.
The Third Variation begins at 0:53, and I also begin to taste peanuts. The nutty flavor pervades my senses and the taste will not leave me. It is a ridiculously awkward flavor to have unsuspectingly hoisted upon your tastebuds.
The Fourth begins at 1:10, and once again I am in a hall full of mirrors and princes. The peanuts still grate against my senses, but the pure opulence kills it a little.
1:30 begins the Fifth Variation, and I walk straight from the classy palace into McDonald's. I work behind the counter, serving petulant customers to the hiss and pop of cooking oil. The taste of fries joins with the still-lingering taste of peanuts and it is not a very pleasant combination. I find myself refilling ketchup dispensers and I have visions of pickles.
At 1:45 the Sixth and Final Variation begins. The uncalled-for nastiness of McDonald's is replaced by a chilly mountain top, not unlike the commercials for almost every mint-and-chocolate based confection you can think of. I am climbing up the side of the mountain, ankle-deep in snow. In the middle of the variation I find myself on the same mountain, but in a wooden cabin. I rush out the door and into a snowstorm, and the last thing I see is myself, sliding slowly to the bottom of the snow bank.
Somehow, all of that happens in only two minutes. Don't ask me how.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Known Only As They.
The man opens up his over-sized coat and brings out an overtly large umbrella. It shines bright yellow against the gunmetal grey of our surroundings. He shakes it out while we are still somewhat covered by the awning of the building. He gestures to me to join him under the umbrella, but I only scowl and walk away. He jogs to keep up with me.
"Where are we going?" he asks when we are side-by-side.
"I know a man that specializes in rogue mechanics. You know that car, Christine?"
"Steven King? Yeah."
"That was cake for him." I speed up as we cross a bridge. The houses grow closer, suffocatingly near.
"What do you mean, cake?" the man said, puzzled. "Christine was a fictional car."
"That's what they want you to think," I say lowly, skirting a steel drum fire on a street corner.
"Well now, who's 'they?'" He nearly collides with me as I stop in front of a gloomy stoop, the facade worn as a ship battered by the salty sea.
"They don't want their secrets being known," I reply. I reach up to press the buzzer, the name on the plate worn beyond recognition. I knew that years ago, when the place had been bright and new, the name read only 'They'.
"Where are we going?" he asks when we are side-by-side.
"I know a man that specializes in rogue mechanics. You know that car, Christine?"
"Steven King? Yeah."
"That was cake for him." I speed up as we cross a bridge. The houses grow closer, suffocatingly near.
"What do you mean, cake?" the man said, puzzled. "Christine was a fictional car."
"That's what they want you to think," I say lowly, skirting a steel drum fire on a street corner.
"Well now, who's 'they?'" He nearly collides with me as I stop in front of a gloomy stoop, the facade worn as a ship battered by the salty sea.
"They don't want their secrets being known," I reply. I reach up to press the buzzer, the name on the plate worn beyond recognition. I knew that years ago, when the place had been bright and new, the name read only 'They'.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Underwater Mystery Theatre 3000
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| Dun dun |
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| Dun-dun-dun |
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| DUN DUUUUUUUUM |
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| Herp Derp! |
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| Doodley-doo... |
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| *Swish swish* |
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| dooooooo-oooo |
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| DOOOOO-oooo |
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| BUM BUM BUM BUM |
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| Du-na...du-na...dunadunaduna |
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| OOooOOooOO |
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| OM NOM NOM |
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| *Scuba Jr.! For the smallest of underwater adventurers!* |
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