this has occurred to him twice in
recent weeks
he sets his alarm in the
morningbacking up his girlfriend he doesnt work till evening
their deal if she hasnt text him before his alarm sounds
he calls her they crossed their fingers his call would awaken her she slept like the dead though shed been on
a roll he hadnt called her in
months
hed reply to her text : Good
morning, love
he wouldnt get a response nor expect one she was in the midst of her toiletry preparing
for work
unfortunately their brief
exercise exercised his cats indie and october into thinking the ball was
rolling time to be UP time to EAT
Yah NO
perhaps this is where his notion of
catnapping came into existence catnapped
dreaming similar to smartphone
snapchats which he virtually had no
interest in
repositioning himself finding a good spot he fell back into a twilight of sleep hypnagogic
this mornings early episodes
included text 6932420 repeating over and over he witnessed a womans hand write it on a scrap of wrinkled paper her disembodied
voice intoned 6-9-3-2-4-2-Oh which
irked him a zero is a zero not an Oh pettyperhaps she could have said twentyfourtwenty why people choose to languishrecite two-four-two-Oh was beyond him
that reoccurring text happened at
fourtwentyfive in the morning
well preceding his girlfriends
text
he found he couldnt fall back to
sleepthe number churned in his closed
eyes as indie and october vied ran
across him he was naked covered by a sheet Time to get upTime to get upTime to get
up
he feigned sleepignored them
was it a telephone number no area code maybe she assumed they shared the same area codehow could she assume
that landlines were becoming passé
was the number something else
eventually they subsidedfaded to
black behind his dreaming eyes
at fivefourteen a text roused him
from his menial struggle
his girlfriend
she woke up and in some place in her brief shivering
consciousness she realised she had fallen asleep the night before as they were texting
about challenges she was having with personnel challenges she hadnt expected from middleaged
coworkersthe stress they inveighed
she valued his input
her wakening however was
exacerbated by a bad dreamshe had a lot of bad dreams in this one he left her because of her
health
he texted her : Good
morning, my love Always beautiful to
talk to you when I can
when she didnt reply he assumed
she fell back to sleep
he had to ignore his cats againfind
a new position he laid on his backhis
hands at his hips he drifted off
a man walking towards him burst
like a seed podspattering him harmlessly like paint
from his collapsing shroud it
falling flaccid to the ground his
electricwhite contents caught a passing breeze and rose into the sky turning into crimson plume in the dawning
light disseminating
he woke stunned
fivefortythee
that was surreal
dreams are
he repositioned himself again this time on his left sidetucking a pillow
between his legs his left arm extended like Adams arm to God Michelangelos The Creation of Adam painted on
the Sistine Chapels ceiling
he copped that position a
couplethree times every night
he rarely slept an entire
night through
he walked along a curb in the
amber of a streetlamp
wherever this was there were no
sidewalks
a car approaching from behind
threw his shadow on its face in its white headlights and abruptly cut him off
it was drab green 60s sedan
looking down he saw it nearly pinched
his left foot between its tire and the curb
he stepped up completely up onto
the curbonto the scrubbeddirt shoulder
the sedans occupants unseenveiled by the lacquered sheen of light covering the windshield accosted him
through the slightcracked windowsthrough curling skeins and jets of blue
cigarette smoke
he swung his canvas knapsack off
his shoulder
it was weighted by books and a
Ka-Bar knife
in his eyes he saw an ugly deadly
tangle with two occupants who sprung from the backseat exiting opposite
doors
then he recognised what he saw
was really just a preamblea dance he would do if they attacked
voices snarled and spat thensuddenly and as abruptly the sedan
lurched backwards squealing its tires peeled as it weaved back into the
street
perhaps they were daunted they hadnt incited him to flee or make a chase
of it or perhaps the dangling knapsack
its dangling unknown in his hand was like a defiant exclamation point not to be trifled with
numbers seem to embolden people
his girlfriend texted and woke him : up up up. i love you. Thank you for allaying
my fears and affording me more sleep.
:
Ha Good morning again
You’re
welcome, my love
the cats began at him again but
he quickly pivoted onto his right side pillow between his knees pinning
his right hand between the pillow and his right knee
as the cats subsided he drifted off
again
the buildings looked like stacked
white cardboard boxes the nearer he
approached he saw they were big
they didnt have windows
he
was inexorably drawn to them
they
were his destination
he entered the square that
contained them
looking up he saw queer black
sticksquivering black sticks poking out of their tops and sides the sticks werent organic to the buildings
there was a smell
it was astringent
formic acid
looking up he watched the black
sticks tick they were articulated
OhChrist legs antennae huge antssimultaneously they lunged out of
their tall hiding places and toppledlosing their footholds freefalling
into the square
they clattered around him like
cannonshotsassiduous exoskeletons then agilely
gatheringregaining their feet they turned on him snapping wicked jaws
the whitesheet walls hinted at
accesses slight small honeycombed impressions
he threw himself at one upclose it seemed a fibrous shoji screen he drove the sharp toe of his boot into
it he punctured it he spun and jammed his heel into it several
more times the hole enlarged
begrudgingly he spun againbacked up several
strides then hurled himself headlong at it ahead of an ant he breached it and from within he could make
out stark silhouette of his antagonist the dull shadows of other ants as they massed
on the translucent walls
inside staircases went up none descended into the earthen floor ironwork stairs to ironwork landing and
floors everything he could see was lit opaquely
lit by sunlight
mounting the steps he found upper
floors were cutup into unfinished spaces
ascending to the top was a singular suite it was enveloped inkind by the exterior skin
there was a single framed sliding
door etched with Ron Rot & RCT
inside he could hear motion muffled voices
rapping at the fibrous
door it sounded dull everything went quiet
which irked him
he put the toe and heel of his
boot to work again
he crouched to enter
the room through the hole he made
of course three men stood
opposite him he halfexpected theyd wear
coveralls with Ron & Rot
& RCT on their breasts
their faces were pinched
closecropped skulls
You guys look like exterminators then he motioned with his thumb to
the walls at their backs and sides marred by the movement of huge herkyjerky
shadows
So whats with the ants
the house phone rang and roused
him fuckin
telemarketers
going to his voicemail the call ended and whined
he was sorely tempted to whine with it
catnaps
snapchats
now indie and october won out
page said Wed
evening, 20 6. 18 (but I think before)
1134, Thursday,
2 8. 18
