Untitled Short Story - saturday 2002-10-26 2039 last modified 2003-07-20 0212
Categories: Writing
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I guess journaling comes and goes in waves. Here for your absolute puzzlement is something I wrote in my head in that period between waking and sleeping. At least the first half. The last half has no such excuse.

Pointless Short Story of the Week

As he lay on his side, propping his head up with his arm, he slowly traced the contour of her skin with his finger, marking out a meandering, aimless path. Quietly reposed on a large, low, firm bed in a proportionally large room, he quietly whispered, "Llama." Presently, a herd of llamas wandered through the room, shuffling past in herd mentality in one direction, kicking up llama dander and other generic llama detritus as they passed through the bedroom. As he continued tracing patterns out on her skin, he observed the passage of llamas through the room from his lowered perspective on the bed and noted that their heads were very high -- almost as high as he was.

Waking from those moments hours later and realizing he had passively allowed his herd of llamas to move far beyond his line of sight always induced panic in him. At least his horse had stayed nearby. Good old horse. Maybe horsey wants some of this -- no, no time for that; besides, who knew what psychedelic drugs might do to such a creature. Shaking the haze from his mind, he hurriedly mounted the horse and built into a gallop along the eminently clear path of a llama herd. Horse and rider broke into a sweat; the horse from exertion, the rider from the disturbingly flat horizon in front of him. As they neared the approaching cliff side with the setting sun casting a bloody red look to their surroundings, his foreboding grew. The tracks kept right on going, unswervingly, straight to the edge. With knots, butterflies, and every other metaphorical object ripping through his stomach, he rode up to the edge and dared to look over.

The sight was unbearable. "I've had enough of your tragic llama dreams. You need help," she said as she walked out the door. Confusion abounded as he reached towards the nightstand for something to kill his puzzled headache. His brain shorted out as he realized he was grabbing llama wool.

[end]

I don't know, why do you keep reading this stuff?

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