Judgement. Has. Been. Passed.

I was in court. Well, a certain type of court. It was just me, and a Judge. I said to the Judge, "I'm here to defend myself." I was not allowed a lawyer, of course, nor was there a prosecuting attorney. Like I say, it was just me, and the Judge.
"You haven't a leg to stand on, because you have made so many mistakes. So, so many. Judgement has already been passed."
"But Judge, I have solutions and apologies!"
"Judgement has been passed, but to prolong your agony, I want you to clearly state these things, so as to extend your humiliation. I do not wish to close court. Judgement has been passed. But tell me these worthless things. You deserve nothing except more pain. You are a failure. Continue."
"Well Judge, I had a solution to the problem that bought me here. It's actually quite clever..."
"Now move on to the apologies."
"Uh, okay, but the solution is qui-"
"Move on to the apologies. Judgement has been passed."
"I'm very sorry. I cannot in any way apologize enough, but I'll be damn sure to give it a try. I'm so incredi-"
"Enough. Judgement has been passed."
"Well, Judge... okay, what now?"
"There is no "what now". Judgement has been passed."
"What is my punishment? How do I atone?"
"There is no punishment. No atonement. Judgement has been passed."
"So... can I go, then?"
"No. Judgement has been passed."
"So I have to stay. I cannot leave. I have no power to do anything at all. Is that fair to say?"
"Judgement has been passed. You cannot leave. You cannot atone. Judgement has been passed. You will stay. Judgement has been passed."
"So I'm stuck here? Is this my punishment?"
"No punishment. Therefore, no atonement. Judgement has been passed."
"Okay. Okay. Okay. I will sit. And I will wait."
"You have nothing to wait for. Nothing is waiting for you. Judgement has been passed."
"Now what?"


"You must endure this: Judgement. Has. Been. Passed.  Judgement. Has. Been. Passed.  Judgement. Has. Been. Passed.  Judgement. Has. Been. Passed.  Judgement. Has. Been. Passed.  Judgement. Has. Been. Passed-

What Will Happen

I went to your house. The first thing I did was trip over. I was on your floor, face to face with your cat. It looked at me disdainfully. ‘Cats look at all people disdainfully’ I hoped more than thought. I looked up at you, standing next to your coffee table. Your disdain was harder to reason away. “I love you” I said. Your cat licked my face. You said nothing. ‘This is my life now’ I realized. I only hoped you didn’t realize it, too.     

Thiefer

At the end of my street, there is an abandoned two-storey house. It hasn’t been that way for too long, maybe six or seven years, so if your mind has conjured up an image of a creaky old house with all the paint missing and gnarled trees in the yard, scrap it. Instead, the best word to think of is ‘dilapidated’.

Anyway, the sole inhabitant of this house is a dog everybody calls ‘Thiefer’. He’s a mutt; if there is a breed of dog that isn’t a part of Thiefer, I’d be very surprised indeed. he has is a patchwork of fur in about every shade of brown, black, orange, and white there is, as well as an area above his right hind leg where there’s no fur at all, just pink skin mottles with black., but the most amazing thing were his eyes; they were an iridescent blue, something I didn’t even know a dog could have.

I moved to this town three years ago, and the first time I saw Thiefer he was wondering toward that house with a G.I. Joe in his jaws. He wasn’t chewing it, and in fact looked to be carrying the action figure with some gentleness, like he was concerned about leaving tooth marks in the plastic. It was dusk, and with this being a quiet little town, the only presence in the entire street was me and this dog. I watched him walk up the stairs of the house, and disappear inside.

I thought nothing of this until about a month later. Again, it was just me and Thiefer in the street. And in his jaws this time was a Barbie. This was when it dawned on me how Thiefer got his name: he seemed to be something of a doggie kleptomaniac. From that day on I always kept an eye out for him, just to see what he’d steal next; it was an action figure here, a girl’s doll there, and it was only ever him on the street with me watching from a window.

 It seemed Thiefer knew when the best times to steal from people’s yards were, as it was always at dusk, and of course that’s when kids playing in the yard are called in by their parents to wash up for dinner. They abandon their toys, and Thiefer finds them. I also noticed that people were very mad at him, and “Damn you, Thiefer!” could be heard at dusk almost every day. People talked about running him out of town, but apparently they were unaware that he lived in the abandoned place, and I wasn’t about to enlighten them. I also learned that the missing fur was because one time a couple of drunken kids had gotten a hold of him and had poured some kind of acid on him.

Days passed, then months, then years. After having a few quiet drinks to celebrate the anniversary of my moving to this place, I decided that, if I really wanted to be a part of this community, I should get some toys and leave them in the yard for this dog I’d become so very fond of. I bought a bad Chinese G.I. Joe knock-off called ‘GI GI GOE!’, as well as the ersatz Barbie ‘BabySo Pretty’. I left them in the yard, went to bed, and of course by morning they were no longer there.

More time passed, those unstoppable days and months and years, and it dawned on me one day that maybe this quiet little town wasn’t really where I should be at this point in my life. It would be a great place to retire to, but it was simply too quiet and boring for anyone under 70. I packed all I owned into a rented pick-up, and as I was about to leave I saw Thiefer. He’d gotten a lot older and slower, but he still had some kind of toy I’d not seen before held between the few teeth he had left. It took him a long time to walk up those stairs, but he made it, and I thought that, seeing as I wasn’t coming back, I might as well invite myself into Thiefer’s home.

I walked up the old, creaky stairs, and in through the doorway. It took my eyes some time to adjust to the gloom, but once they did I was greeted with a sight that took my breath away: It was Thiefer. On the floor, taking up an area roughly five metres long by about two metres deep, was what looked like a statue of Thiefer, lying on his side. He’d piled the brown G.I. Joes to resemble his brown spots, pink Barbies to do the pink skin, with black army men representing the mottles. A myriad other toys had been painstakingly arranged to create himself, or rather, the self he was that first day I saw him.

He sat looking at me, his tail wagging slightly. Then he made his way to his effigy, and very, very carefully placed the thing he had between his teeth into a shallow indentation; it was a beautiful blue marble, the exact shade as his eyes. He stood on his old legs, and slowly walked around the sculpture as if examining it, and to this day I swear he was smiling the whole time. He then lay down next to himself, and his breathing slowed, until stopping entirely.

I left Thiefer’s house, his home, with tears streaming down my face, overwhelmed by the emotion that hit me like a tidal wave of grief. Everyone here hated the poor guy, so he had no choice but to build a companion.

I got in the pick-up and cried like a baby. Then, I started it up and drove away, not even bothering to watch that terrible town disappear in my rear-view mirror.

The Wily Snake Substitute Teacher

                                                          

When I was 11, one day a snake in a three-piece suit came into the Principal's office at my grade school. "Hello, fellow human!" he said, "I am, uh, Mr. Slithers! I am the substitute teacher to replace the teacher that owned this exact same suit."

"Oh" exclaimed the Headmaster, "That's great! Mr. Jensen didn't show up, for some reason. And you are wearing his exact same suit? That's odd... HEY!"

"Oh no, I'm buste-"

"That suit cost a lot of money! How can you afford it on a substitue's salary?"

"Oh! My, uh, parent...s my human parents, that I have, are rich. This is literally the only way I got this suit that's exactly the same as the one worn by my good friend Dr. Jansert!"

"You mean Mr. Jensen?"

"Yeah! My buddy Mr. Johnson! Look, I better get to the class to teach the fat little delicious children. I know where it is. Good day, Mr. Principal!"

With that, he came into our class. He asked us to place hide and seek. I hid in a really good place. He didn't tell us when the game ended, but when I came out of my hiding spot, I noticed the substitute slithering down toward the river, his once ill-fitting suit was now practically bursting at the seams.

Eleven of us hid. Only three of us survived.

Bozo the Dog



When my Mum was a girl, she had a dog named Bozo. She found him walking home from the shoe factory she worked at (She left school at 12 to support her family.) She was walking home, and saw what initially looked like a homeless man playing with a dog. But upon closer inspection, she saw that the man was not only homeless, he was dead. And the dog was eating him. She shooed the dog away, but he followed her home, still holding a mouthful of man. He was a good dog, and she didn't mind taking care of him. The only thing that bothered her was when he'd escape from the yard. It bothered her because whenever he escaped, the front page of the next day's paper would be a report of a man found dead, apparently the victim of dingoes. Many dingoes were hunted down. But the kllings didn't stop.

I Listen To R.E.M



"Welcome comrade! This is communist Russia. Our country is best country. As you see here, this is anvil factory. You see people on right side banging anvils with hammers, they are workers. People on left side, they too bang hammer on anvil, but they really KGB spying on right side people. They listen to finest worksong, they bang anvil and spy, they happy. Now you come with me. We go to steam factory, where women work. We throw them meat, we watch them fight for it to death. We drink vodka and laugh. There is small woman with sick child. She tiny. She kill many women already so child can have meat. She soul of Russia. This is why we are best nation. You understand Russian soul now, da? Da."

Hide and Go Seek

One time, I was playing hide-and-go-seek with a kid named James. We were ten. James went and hid, and I counted to a hundred. But as I got to a hundred, Robotech came on t.v, and I forgot about James. Anyway, about eight months later, I was looking for a broom, because I broke a jar of sand I keep to remind me of the ocean. I tried to open the creaky old closet door under the stairs, but it was stuck. I got Dad's crowbar out of his truck, and with some effort I managed to pry the door open. I finally found James. "Found you!" I said, then I picked up his skull and made him say swear words. I'd bring it to school and chase the teachers with it. But one day, at recess, a big dog came into the school yard and took it from me. He buried it somewhere. They say that at night, you can hear the sounds of the headless ghost of a little boy, scratching in vain at the earth.