Saturday, 8 November 2008

pointlessness in an electronic box

I'm not evn sure I'm payin attention to this anymore let alone anyone else. But if you are out there (Carl?) then here is a little bit more. I just haven't had time to do anything for months now. Not even write junk on the intramanet late at night. So just to prove I am still alive in blogland, here are some words.


The survivor did not open his eyes at first. Consciousness dawned with a whole new fear. He felt hard nylon sheets against his skin. He listened. A rthymic bleeping that matched his hearbeat and only his breathing in the silence beyond it. Antiseptic stung his nostrils, after so long in the hold his nose had bcome innured to smell. so long had he been locked in the fetid stench that he had become inured. His eyes snapped open. The hospital room was hard white on pupils that had seen only darkness for the days he had been locked in the hold, to scared to sleep. He raised his hand to examine the pulse monitor wired to his wrist but movement in his peripheral vision jolted him. A nurse stopped at the wide window to his room, starring at him over a clipoard. He blinked at her. She turned and walked out of view. A wooziness crawled up his spine and into his head.

"You look well." said Gray. "Very well."
The survivor slowly widened his eyes and scanned the questioner and the suited man next to him, who repeated the unfamiliar noises in words he recognised.
For the first time he could speak to the man who pulled him from that hole.
"Are you police?" asked the stranger.
"Yes, I am. Tell me your name."
"I am Tamas Vadas."
Gray absorbed the information. He nodded to himself and said: "You are still not well yet so I will spare you questions for now but I want you to think about what has happened so that when we do talk about it tomorrow you will be prepared for it. I will ask you just one question now. How did you survive?"
Vadas turned his face to the window. "I know you will not believe me but I do not know. The last thing I remember is a woman tending to my fever. Then I think I slept. When I woke ..." he turned back to face the policeman, his throat quivering and his shotgun eyes disintegrating. "I woke in hell."
Gray felt his teeth pressing together as the smell of the hold flooded the room. He beckoned to the interpreter with a finger wheeled out of the room, stopping at the door. He next words were delivered slowly.
"Mr Vadas, you need to think very carefully about what you will say to me tomorrow. Or you risk swapping one hell for another."
"And if you think about what I will tell you," snapped Vadas, "you will understand that a cage is the best place for me."

random observation at 1.45am on Saturday November 8, 2009
Facebook instant messenger has just found me chatting with a girl I once fondled in a lane at an age when I shouldn't have been fondling girls in lanes. Is that a good thing or a bad thing. What do you say to each other? We had a strangely intimate conversation for an oddly long time. I'm not sure how I feel about that.

1 comment:

Michael said...

Golden Rules of Power Tool Safety
1) You Are The Most Dangerous Power Tool
2) All Tools are Equally Dangerous, but Some are More Frequently Harmful
3) Keep Your Tools Sharp, True, Clean and Running Smooth
4) Keep Your Work Space Tidy, Well Lit and Distraction Free
5) Purchase or Make the Appropriate Safety Accessories
6) Keep a First Aid Kit Handy
7) Always Trust Your Instincts……..Power Protection Systems