Archive for the ‘David Kopaska-Merkel’ Category
Childhood still sucks
Wednesday, September 17th, 2008
So one day after school Carlos says he’s moving to the Sun. Ever since he grew the second head he’s been acting strangely, but I was like “whoa!” And Billy goes “can I have your Game Tesseract™?” but Carlos says he’s taking it with him. Now you’re probably thinking, “didn’t I learn in school people can’t live on the Sun,” but they totally solved that problem at Beijing Tech, or someplace in Asia, which I saw in a web comic on NewJournal earlier this week. This guy had a totally realistic simulation. You could have multiple avatars just like in a real game and it was like you were really on the Sun. But that’s not what I wanted to tell you. See, Internet access between here and the Sun really sucks and since Carlos has been my best friend since, like, last summer, I think we should move to the Sun too. I’m sure you can get a really cool job there, probably better than you have here, because everything is new and on the edge there. Or, this is better, I could go live with Uncle Mort on Mercury, and he has those adapted horses and I’ve always wanted to ride one. I’d be way closer to the Sun, so Carlos and I could see each other and stuff. Cos, like, I was going to invite him to my next birthday party and I can’t do that, I mean, I can do that, but he can’t come, if he lives on the Sun and I still live here on Titan.
The end
Dinner out in the Yucatan
Friday, September 5th, 2008
Rowena blew dust from the stone tablet.
“Look here.” She pointed at some blurred characters.
“I can’t read them,” I replied, “these are pre-Mayan. No one can read this script.”
“I know,” she replied, brushing a lock of hair away from her face. “But last night I dreamed about a stone city. I read this inscription on a temple gate. Listen.”
As she recited the alien syllables I felt that I almost understood them, that I knew the dread city of which she spoke.
I clapped my hands over my ears. “Stop!”
“People stood around an altar. A priest cut out your heart with a gold knife. The heart was given to me.” I looked at her, but she turned away. “I ate it. You were dead.”
“We should leave,” I said. “Now.”
I seized her arm, but she slipped out of my grasp, darting through a door that gaped nearby. I ran after her. She eluded me among the shafts of light and darkness. When I came to a courtyard I was surprised to see her standing there beside a stone table the height of her chest.
“This is the place,” she whispered, “this is where I saw you slaughtered.”
“That was a dream.”
Even as I said this I thought I remembered the scene she had described, and I felt something stir within me. Her sorrowful expression changed to one I could not interpret.
I was on my back. I tried to tell her that I needed food, that I felt hungrier than I ever had, but no words came. I sat up. I caught her hands and tried to explain, but she would not listen, trying to pull free, and shouting. I gave up on talk. There was no time for that now. Hunger was all I had, my vision shrank to a blurry point, and I could do nothing but fill my belly.
I came to my senses on the open hillside. My shirt was wet. The sun set in a welter of crimson and ragged shreds of cloud. A couple of Mayan youths in shorts and dirty shirts stood near. I called to them, but when they approached me their faces changed and they fled. I struggled to my feet, felt the awful hunger returning. Maybe the young men would give me food. I stumbled after them in the gathering dusk.
The end