Talk, Talk, Talk

by David

A man found a strange metal house in the Bush. The door was hanging open and the house seemed deserted. He called, but no one answered. Eventually, curiosity made him step inside. When he did, he almost jumped right back out again, because the floor mat said “You are trespassing! Leave at once.” But just then a picture on the wall said “Maybe he knows what happened to the Master. You stay right here!” The monster in the picture scowled right at the man standing in the doorway and he was afraid to run. “The Master! What have you done with him?” an urn on a table shouted. “I did nothing,” the man protested, but his voice trailed off. He looked around the inside of the house and realized it was bigger than the outside. Almost nothing in it was familiar. He stepped in, drawn by glittering mystery. He ignored the chorus of questions and imprecations that came from every side. He leaned his spear against the wall to free his hands. “Hey! You scratched me,” the wall brayed. He had just picked up a bottle the color of the sea and he dropped it. A pungent odor reached his nostrils, the ceiling screamed like a hare, and the floor mat shouted “Run! Nano-seed! Run!” This was too much — the man took to his heels. “Goodbye to all this,” the door mumbled dissolutely.