The Curious Dreamlife of Marshmallow Addie - Volume 7
Addie slept and slept (as usual), like pigs in a blanket. The minimalist fakeplastic decor of his surroundings was jarred by the animated suspension of the seething pearl alarm clock (it woke him up pearly in the morning). Soon, the vast expanses of decadence and filth that Addie so craved and loved would be cruelly snatched away from him.
Addie needed a home like a dog a bone. A shelter from flightless oysters. Maroon plumes of car exhaust (whom Addie called Victor) were permanent guests at his dinner table. They had fine wine and said the occasional hello to Uncle Tallwhisker. Ethyl and Methyl Johnny waved a small hand or two. Outside, McMansions were built and destroyed in the blink of an eye. Fat vehicles transported fatter occupants from Point A to Point A.... and made Victor fatter. Addie was content. Simple pleasures for a simple mind.
He consumed some factory manufactured uniform goo and gravitated towards the ladies room, where he spent several blissful days in an hour.
And then he slept.
Freeways zigzagged away like horizontal bottomless pits. The universe absorbed the apathy of vacuous minds and disintegrated routinely into a terrifying continuum. Reality asked itself questions about itself. Or maybe not. Addie blew a useless smoke ring. Reality checks again. A smoky face appeared slowly over the window. It didn't remember. Nothing could. Addie blew another useless smoke ring. Addie blew another useless smoke ring. Addie blew another smoke ring. It was good this time. No, cross that. It was useless as usual. Somewhere, a lung collapsed. A life became timeless. A heart became arrhythmic. A song became arrhythmic. A crescendo collapsed into a lung. Someone failed. Someone cried into a flute. A song sang itself backwards and haunting echoes made an oyster laugh out loud. And again and again.
Meanwhile, dissociated from most of these humourous battles, Addie's unsuspecting mortal soul happily cruised a turnpike.
Addie slept and slept (as usual), like pigs in a blanket. The minimalist fakeplastic decor of his surroundings was jarred by the animated suspension of the seething pearl alarm clock (it woke him up pearly in the morning). Soon, the vast expanses of decadence and filth that Addie so craved and loved would be cruelly snatched away from him.
Addie needed a home like a dog a bone. A shelter from flightless oysters. Maroon plumes of car exhaust (whom Addie called Victor) were permanent guests at his dinner table. They had fine wine and said the occasional hello to Uncle Tallwhisker. Ethyl and Methyl Johnny waved a small hand or two. Outside, McMansions were built and destroyed in the blink of an eye. Fat vehicles transported fatter occupants from Point A to Point A.... and made Victor fatter. Addie was content. Simple pleasures for a simple mind.
He consumed some factory manufactured uniform goo and gravitated towards the ladies room, where he spent several blissful days in an hour.
And then he slept.
Freeways zigzagged away like horizontal bottomless pits. The universe absorbed the apathy of vacuous minds and disintegrated routinely into a terrifying continuum. Reality asked itself questions about itself. Or maybe not. Addie blew a useless smoke ring. Reality checks again. A smoky face appeared slowly over the window. It didn't remember. Nothing could. Addie blew another useless smoke ring. Addie blew another useless smoke ring. Addie blew another smoke ring. It was good this time. No, cross that. It was useless as usual. Somewhere, a lung collapsed. A life became timeless. A heart became arrhythmic. A song became arrhythmic. A crescendo collapsed into a lung. Someone failed. Someone cried into a flute. A song sang itself backwards and haunting echoes made an oyster laugh out loud. And again and again.
Meanwhile, dissociated from most of these humourous battles, Addie's unsuspecting mortal soul happily cruised a turnpike.
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