Sta.sh
.
a low watt fire hazard
within thin, thin glass ...
she
is the last of the utility bulbs
pedestaled upside-down from a rusted, swinging socket
flickering when it rains
drying you into stains
still dutifully
outlining the edges of where you are
in cyclic revolution
you've come to a place where you now smile up at her
and your leaking roof
.
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Well.. then, I guess.. eat, drink, be merry -- for tomorrow the electric bill arrives.
YoYo!- we b rollin in it. No worries bout dat lekric bill after all!
"What?"
"That's what it says on the bulb," he turned to her, blinking. "Is that a real place?"
"On Earth Alternate 44C, yes."
"Huh?"
"What?"
"What'd you say?"
"Nothing."
for pendulous globes of all shapes and sloppiness.
I always thought it'd be interesting to open a really, really weird store someplace. Fill it with ridiculous, strange artifacts supposedly from an alternate earth. Kind of an art installation in the guise of retail storefront, operated with a straight face. Nobody ever cracks a smile nor admits it's anything but a somewhat eccentric business.
The lingerie department would have 3-breasted bras and strange, grey stretchy undergarments suitable for squid-people. Many of the 'designer labels' would be printed in Cyrillic or Arabic and smell faintly of salt water.
At the rear of the store, behind the counter & cash register, would be a solid banded-iron door set with a ridiculously oversized antique padlock. Occasionally there can be heard moans and thumps from behind the door, which all the employees studiously ignore.
The only time they DID pay attention was when the key was slid under the door to them. This was their signal that it was time to clean up. So in they go in the civilian equivalent of haz-mat suits with gloves that went past their shoulders. Their was never any people in the room when they went in. The people who groaned and bumped always entered and left through a door on the opposite side. All that was left for them was the mess.
Fecal matter and coffee cake were two common visitors to the floor. They looked similar but the ratio of stink to bond the breathabilty cleared matter up. Understanding wise at least. frequently the alter on the far side of the room had also been used. It was a small black fake marble affair on a set of wheels. Upon it were animals with their throats slits, or often and more cruelly their paws cut off. Where the rest of the poor things was God only knew. All these things were a mirror in some ways of the bizarrity of the actually stores contents. As if this room and its mysterious and foul participant almost paid in karma forthe stick. Strange for strange. Weird for weird. Odd for Odd.
There was one thing that always bother them during the cleaning more than anything else. There were three more doors off that same room they cleaned including the one opposite the stains of THINGS often dragged themselves through. THESE doors sometimes had sounds behind them two. From these two doors were often heard faint mumurings of things confessed and sometimes..choirs singing.
ML
Me: "Uh, Dark... you better get Sarge up here. The people from license and inspection are coming."
Dark: "Right. Just rip down all the 'per lb.' price signs and hide the freezer wrap."
Me: "What about the scale?"
Dark: "Just wipe it down enough to get the smell out of it and put it next to the barrel of loose Mars Stones"
Ralf, who was the owner, was currently on the radio yelling at someone in some slang version of Moon-Speak which was a good mediation language developed over time for the purpose of coded business dealings.
A shipment of those prophylactics with tentacle sucker-release had not arrived. They were ordered over a month ago, but now the two males kept in the entertainment sub-basement were reaching their stages of accelerated growth. Once breaching the water chamber's capacity, they were ready for the meat counter. Ralf's eyes darted back and forth trying to decide whether or not to cancel that order after all.