| No. 11 | September 2004 |
THE DARKNESS
The darkness deepens as the desert moon explodes overhead in a roaring yellow rage. All around, the shadows dance and lurch and laugh amongst themselves and I can feel the hunger haunting me, feeding from me, wanting to become me as I become kin to its desire.
Through the tombstone jungle I slither like a serpent upon the belly of death, deliberately moving across graves of the forgotten and feeling the weight of their lost memories crumble and scream beneath the passing of my wretched soul.
The night yawns and I yawn with it. As it swallows me inside the hollow of its gut I too swallow an existence I once knew. As the night creeps toward dawn, dying and breathing, I, this haunted spirit, turn to hunter and through the face of eternal darkness I see myself as I have become: a ravenous carrion vulture borne to the trembling air of the night. In the body of this spirit I am forever blessed and cursed, forever with the night.
By Richard Hipson
POST-IT
John, Ms Taylor, John, Margie, John, Can’t wait! John, Consider me your report-man. John, Good morning Margie, Where were you at lunch? John John John, Margie, John, Margaret, Benjamin,
by Fleur Bradley
Welcome to InCorp!
Hope AdminTemp filled you in.
Meet me ASAP about reports.
Margaret Taylor, Office Manager
Finished reports.
Let me know if they’re ok.
John
Meet me ASAP about reports.
Margaret
Thanks for your help yesterday, love more.
How about a working lunch?
John
I’ll pick you up at corner of 12th and Main.
Margie
John
Thanks for lunch. Great reports.
Want some more overtime?
Margie
John
Reports tonight at 8.
Margie
Fantastic help last night!
Meet me for lunch.
John
Reports need help!
Call me, I need help with reports.
Talk to me!
John
In my office ASAP.
Margaret Taylor
Hope I was clear in our meeting.
Nobody needs to know.
See you tonight!
John
I’ll pick you up at 9, at usual spot.
Margaret
Heard John got killed in that hit and run.
Replacement is coming.
Jill, AdminTemp
Welcome to InCorp!
Hope AdminTemp filled you in.
Meet me ASAP about reports.
Margaret Taylor, Office Manager
COME DANCE WITH ME ON MY DADDY'S GRAVE
I buried my father today.
For 43 years my father treated me like a child he didn't want, ignoring me during the best of times, abusing me during the worst of times. All that changed when he needed me.
A ride to the store when he lost his driver's license, a stop at the pharmacy after work to pick up his prescriptions, help paying his electric bill when an unexpected cold snap sent his heating costs skyrocketing.
And then today, when his septic tank backed up, I rented a backhoe to help him dredge it up. As I worked, my father stood over me, telling what to do and what not to do. I tried not to listen, I tried not to care.
In the end, though, there was no escape. After clearing the clog, I began refilling the hole. I don't know if I bumped my father with the backhoe or if he simply stumbled, but one moment he stood at the edge of the hole and the next he lay at the bottom, screaming my name.
I dumped a load of dirt on top of him and continued until the hole had been filled.
When I close my eyes, I can still hear his screams.
And I smile.
By Michael Bracken
THIS ISSUE OF FLASH FANTASTIC -- "The Darkness" is ©2004 by Richard Hipson. "Post-It" is ©2004 by Fleur Bradley. "Come Dance With Me On My Daddy's Grave" is ©2004 by Michael Bracken. All contents of Flash Fantastic edited by Patty G. Henderson. Final formatting and additional graphics by Nolan B. Canova. All contents of Crazed Fanboy dotcom and Nolan's Pop Culture Review are ©2004 by Nolan B. Canova.