Blamish Blamush

Tue, Feb 6 2018 01:47pm GMT 1
69 Posts

Blamish Blamush

The skinny man is wearing red trousers and a green shirt. He is kicking his long legs into the air for the amusement of his friends. His friends are all wearing black. They have their faces painted yellow.

The skinny man hates his friends. He is walking down the street and hating them from a distance.

The skinny man is eating a bacon sandwich in a cafe by the mortuary. His mind is a glowing ball living on another dimension where dead people live. Eating the bacon sandwich is bringing his mind to a higher plane of existence where there are people who have never lived.

The skinny man is dancing at a nightclub. His black clad friends are dancing around him. The skinny man loves his friends. He has hugged and kissed them all at some point.

The skinny man is dead inside.

The skinny man smokes a pipe while Dennis, his best friend, smokes a spliff. They are listening to their favourite band BLACK MATHS and getting high. The skinny man's mind is a cloud in heaven sending out streaks of lightning that look, and feel, like straggly tree branches. Dennis is dissolving into a puddle of clothes. He is suddenly wearing clogs. Something purple crawls out of the pile of clothes. The skinny man gets up and stamps on it. He hates Dennis and the things he changes into.

The thing that the skinny man has stamped on is not dead yet.

The skinny man picks it up and admires the simplicity of it. One black eye. A wide mouth. Tentacles for legs. It seems to look like Dennis too. And it is speaking. The skinny man hears the words in his mind.

"Find me in the purple graveyard," it says to the skinny man.

"I'm the grey haunter of old," it also says to the skinny man.

The skinny man is in the library with Hyacinth, his present girlfriend. He met her in the library two months ago and they like to go there together. They met by the horror books in a quiet corner. They had both reached for the same book at the same time. It was a book by Rimsy Cempbill. The skinny man had let her have the book. She had asked him if he was a fan. He had told her he was. They went for a drink after that and fell in love. They made love like balls of mercury meeting.

The skinny man hates Hyacinth. He is walking in a wasteland. Ruined buildings litter the rocky landscape. There has been a war here. Gutted tanks sit here and there. The odd tree grows in the desolation. The skinny man runs towards a building. He has been here before. He climbs a chipped concrete staircase towards the top floor. There is someone with him. There is someone climbing the stairs with him. The skinny man sees the man, who is even skinnier than the skinny man. The skinny man knows who the skinnier man is.

The skinny man sits at home. He is listening to PINK GEOGRAPHY on his stereo and sniffing glue from a plastic bag. The pain has lifted and he is high. Higher than the edge of the universe. A naked body is lying at his feet that is suddenly wearing clogs. A knife is protruding from the back of the body. The knife falls out and hits the floor. AND WHAT A NICE CARPET!!!!!!!!!!!

The skinny man is with his friends at their house. In his pocket is a plastic bag with a lump of flesh in it. His friends are drinking cider and listening to BEIGE CHEMISTRY. The skinny man took some pills an hour ago and they are just starting to kick in. He looks at his black clad friends with their painted yellow faces with new eyes. They look like animals. Their cider is his urine. They have machine minds. They would look better naked.

One of his friends offers him a spliff. He takes it and puts it to his lips. Something blue is in the skinny man's mind.

Something blue and ice cold.

"Groovy music, eh?" Susan says.

"There's something blue and ice cold in my mind," the skinny man replies before he sucks the end of the spliff.

"Crazy," says Susan before she dances away back to her cider bottle.

Wed, Feb 7 2018 07:57pm GMT 2
73 Posts
As compelling as your last entry... Is this a relative of the naked man?

I prefer the skinny man. I particularly like the band names and his varying outlooks depending on how high he is, but I would like to find out who the skinnier man is...

Is this an anthology that you're writing?
Mon, Feb 12 2018 02:44pm GMT 3
69 Posts
Thanks for reading. I wrote this story as part of an anthology of surrealist stories(really?) that I was going to try and get published. But I don't think I'm there yet. If I ever will be. Right I'm off to listen to some Yellow Physics.

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