Dual
RIP Karl 1991-2014
Endless time. A day like any other summer day; relentless Helios beaming down on us, our house atop a hill with no window coverings. Hunger. The status quo. A quarter cup of cereal for breakfast; a sandwich little more than a thin jelly spread between two cardboard slabs. Costco's finest multigrain. With each bite, a nauseating expansion. Seeds. Boredom. Nothing to do; the threat of punishment should we entertain ourselves. Chess was banned.
In the garage, a solution. An extra refridgerator, new in the house and not yet padlocked. It had cheese. My cheese. Confiscated by the hunger police. Gouda, Irish Cheddar, gourmet cheeses in a dozen varieties. Sneak to the garage, stash the gouda outside under the fire escape. Pick it up later; starvation's relief.
Back within. Hello, sun. The door opens. Her. Chris, a latter day Nurse Ratched. We barricaded the door against you? But we didn't see you were coming. Repitition of a falsehood; alchemise a virgin verier veracity. Dogma. To disagree is to defy. To defy is to sin. To sin is to suffer. To suffer is to languish, endless malaise building upon itself indefinitely.
We barricaded the door. It became truth. What arcane secret were we hiding? I will find out. We are banished, sent away to the garage next door. Down the asphalt driveway, past the pond. Don't neglect to salvage the smoked gouda on the way! It gives us meaning. We serve his divine gouda, broken free at last of the prison in Oriole House.
Jason is our collaborator. Into the garage; exile for four hours daily. Nurse and minions search Oriole, looking for our secret. Fools! We're eating it! Our spy gets a call. Nurse. They've uncovered something. But what? Covert discussions amongst the involved parties. What might they have found? Nobody can think of anything. Jason won't tell. But now it's the weekend, and we won't know till Selene is ascendant once again.
An air of forboding over the weekend. What will happen on Monday, we all wonder. The new week starts. They found two year old cigarette butts covered in ancient urine. They accuse us of smoking them. No! They still think we were up to something. This has gone too far. "I liberated my cheese." The secondary fridge got its padlock.
In the garage, a solution. An extra refridgerator, new in the house and not yet padlocked. It had cheese. My cheese. Confiscated by the hunger police. Gouda, Irish Cheddar, gourmet cheeses in a dozen varieties. Sneak to the garage, stash the gouda outside under the fire escape. Pick it up later; starvation's relief.
Back within. Hello, sun. The door opens. Her. Chris, a latter day Nurse Ratched. We barricaded the door against you? But we didn't see you were coming. Repitition of a falsehood; alchemise a virgin verier veracity. Dogma. To disagree is to defy. To defy is to sin. To sin is to suffer. To suffer is to languish, endless malaise building upon itself indefinitely.
We barricaded the door. It became truth. What arcane secret were we hiding? I will find out. We are banished, sent away to the garage next door. Down the asphalt driveway, past the pond. Don't neglect to salvage the smoked gouda on the way! It gives us meaning. We serve his divine gouda, broken free at last of the prison in Oriole House.
Jason is our collaborator. Into the garage; exile for four hours daily. Nurse and minions search Oriole, looking for our secret. Fools! We're eating it! Our spy gets a call. Nurse. They've uncovered something. But what? Covert discussions amongst the involved parties. What might they have found? Nobody can think of anything. Jason won't tell. But now it's the weekend, and we won't know till Selene is ascendant once again.
An air of forboding over the weekend. What will happen on Monday, we all wonder. The new week starts. They found two year old cigarette butts covered in ancient urine. They accuse us of smoking them. No! They still think we were up to something. This has gone too far. "I liberated my cheese." The secondary fridge got its padlock.