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Friday, May 31, 2013


It always comes back full circle, and you know this, my friend.  You have seen it in your own life, haven’t you?

Yup.  Things make sense in hindsight.

But only then.

Wayfaring Stranger   by Jack White  

I backed away from the old, black hearse with the anarchy circle hand painted on its driver’s side door.

I had been here before, I had seen this vehicle, and I knew that this was evidence of a much larger circle of events than I would ever have permission to see again.

It scared the fuck out of me.

If the world was a flat disc, then I would be slipping towards the edge, digging and scratching at that old vinyl, about to spin off into the deep, dark recesses of eternity, never to be seen again.

I clambered out of the rear of the hearse stable/ barn and the sunlight blared in my eyes like the screech from an electric guitar.

I squinted my eyes and saw that old fucker stalking away.  He was slapping his hands off on his long desert duster, and he had his cowboy hat pushed forward.

He was wiping his hands of me.

He was done.

He had listened to me cast Tellesco off my burdens with a dismissive word.

I had called that huge sobbing bastard a weight on my shoulders.

I understood what I had done.

I understood that I was about to be left behind.


I struggled to run faster in the desert sand, but every step filled my boots with silt.

I could not catch up.

I twisted and turned, and found myself buried up to my waist.

I was stuck, and sinking in my struggle.

The desert is unforgiving.

The desert will dry you out, it will desiccate you until you are a red ghost, chust wandering along the foot hills looking for your own soul.

The dark figure in the blinding light became a tiny glimpse, and then he was gone.

Everything was gone.

There was no horse stable,

there was no barn,

there had never been a black hearse,

there was no cabin in the desert nor on the moon,


there was no anything.

Angry Young Girl   by Parlor Mob 

I woke up in my bed, and my littlest sister came into my bedroom, dripping splotches of sweet, creamy coffee on the floor with her little halting steps.

She was holding a large cup, doing her best.

She said, “Weeeeee-ill!  Momma say you need to stop screaming and wake up.  You scaring us.  Please stop!”


It had all been a dream.

The End.

Thank you for reading this story all this time baby.

God Help You.

God Help Us  All.

Just kidding.  Ya know...

Joey slapped my face hard.

He was shouting.

He said, “Weeeee-ill!  Wake up!  Weeee-ill!  Stop screaming!”

I rubbed my hand on my cheek as I cleared my head.  I punched his hand away.

What the fuck was going on?

I said, “I was… I don’t know…  Where the hell is that Glinty dude?”

Joey said, “He getting the boys all ready.  Talking about some shit we gotta do.  You OK?”

I struggled up out of the comfy, easy chair in front of the ice cold hearth and wiped my eyes.  What the hell?  It had all been a dream?

I stalked to the kitchen table and poured myself a tall glass of orange juice.

It didn’t taste like anything.

I ate the biscuits and gravy and the eggs and bacon and it all tasted like desert dust.

But I got my belly full.

It made no sense at all.

And then, The Glinty sat down beside me on the long bench before the side of the huge table.

I jumped.  Nothing like a greeting from a ghost cowboy during your morning meal.

He said, “We need to have us a talk.”

I shook my head.  I said, “You fucking drugged me out with that smoke of yours.”

He looked down at the hat in his hands and picked off pieces of sage brush and tumbleweed seeds.  He said, “Nope.  Just tobacco.  But you seen something, I can sense it.  Let’s go outside.  We need some fresh air.”

Well, damn.  I understood. I followed him up and out.

Dance Me a Number   by The Steep Water Band  

In the bright sunshine, I squinted.

I said, “I had some good dreams last night.  But I had some nightmares, too.  I don’t know what the hell is going on.”

He put his hat back on his head and said, “No, son, you done had them visions.  You seen things that are true.  You ain’t dreamt a thing.”

I shook my head.  I said, “I was lost in the desert.  I was buried up to my waist.  I was left behind.”

Glinty said, “That’s all up for grabs.  Only thing I know is this:  Them dream things are fears.  Consternations. Worriment.  That’s what the lady folk do to pass the time.  Now, Visions are another sort of thing.  You have to find the difference between the two, boy.  Ya see, we men, we fighters, well, we got to face them fears head on.”

That there, my friend, showed to me the chink in the armor of The Glinty.

I thought about two ladies.

One had died in the ocean, and one had died in the desert.

Both had come back.

One showed me the way.

And one had such anger that she could freeze a room when she walked in.

I thought that this old cowboy preacher should meet them.  It was obvious that he hadn't.

Maybe he would.

Why had they come back; just to help me?

Or was something much larger going on?

I held back from telling him these thoughts I had.  Some things can't be told.  They chust have to be seen.

I looked from him back to them other young men using the out house, and I shrugged.

I turned back to him and said, “What about those guys?  We can’t be dragging them along to the Ugly, or whatever you mean by that.”

Glinty looked at me all silent.  He pulled his hat low and bent forth.

He said, “They know they in for a ride.”

I said, “Hah?”

He said, “You ain’t the only one who been screaming in they sleep like a frightened babe.”

I said, “I don’t want anything bad to happen to my friends.  Fuck this.  Let’s just all drive off.  Let’s chust head east.”

He looked over at them boys taking turns in the out house and said, “You done asked about that clown boy.”

I stepped back.  I didn’t know that he had a clue.  But he did.

He stalked closer to me, nodded and said, “No don’t go spreading this out there.  But you got a clue, I can see it.  I don’t let on any more than I have to, but it’s time.  Can I get an Amen, you young Red fella?”

I nodded up at the long-dead cowboy preacher who stood close and towered over me, and I could see the reflection of my frightened face in the lens of his old spectacles; the one unbroken lens.

He nodded and took a handkerchief out of his back pocket and cleaned his glasses.  The hollow socket of his shot-out eye creeped me the fuck out. 

He said, “We tied, that ugly clown boy and me.  But he got loose from us.” 

He set his broken spectacles back on his dried-out face and then he smiled.  He had no teeth, and that was gross.

He said, “We need to bring him back to us.  He be a mean, ugly freak, but you need to listen here, boy.  You got your ears on?”

I gulped and nodded back up at him. 

I said, “That Fat Jerry, is he dead like you?”

Well mister, that old cowboy took his own step back.  Guess he didn’t figure that I could do some math.

He surmised the shitiation.  He considered things.  Then he said, “You Red folks sure be wily.  And that’s a good thing.  Guess you done learned how from us whites.”

I shook my head.  I said, “Nope.  We got it all along.  Just been waiting for you.”

That was when he began that creepy laugh that he had, and he tossed his head back, and his hat fell in the dirt again.

The others looked over to us in the sunshine, and then turned back.  I guess they were about done with this weird fucker, like I was. 

But he was sharper than he smelled.

He settled back down, blew out a couple of snot rockets (swear to Gawd, I thought there was bone fragments) and then he continued.

The Glinty said, “Well, I guess you really do got that loyalty thing after all.”

He saw my puzzled face and smiled.


The dream thing?

He said, “It might be a good thing if we can summon that bastard back to us.  You see, we gotta fight Ugly with Ugly.”

Now I really didn’t have a clue.

Broke-ass Injun in the desert far away from…

…my Island

…my River.

I chust wanted to get back home.


Sometimes, you might have to go through Hell chust to get back home. 

Sometimes, you gotta dig your way out of a grave in the desert silt to rise up into the sunlight and fresh air.

My friend, I knew what he was saying.

Fat Jerry was gonna be showing up real soon, and that would be ugly indeed.

But you knew that the ugly clown would come back.

Didn’t you.

God Help You.

God Help Us All.

---willies out.

Ocean Breathes Salty   by Modest Mouse 

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