Note. This was my attempt at a modern morality tale, complete with my own “everyperson”. For those who are fans of symphonic metal you will notice that Nightwish was the obvious source of inspiration for this short work of fiction. Thank you, Tuomas Holopainen for writing great music with lyrics that stir the imagination.
The train rattles down the track, kicking up dust as it hurdles into the nothing; careening into oblivion as the destination nears. Inside the dining car a solitary figure sits, surrounded by others, on the way to the ferry. The figure sips on a cocktail and is bemused by the thoughts occupying space and time. Another figure, a woman of nondescript age, asks if she could join our everyperson, and they begin to talk.
“Pardon me?” the conversation begins.
“Do you mind if I sit here?” the woman asks.
“Not at all; sit where you like.” Dana takes a chest from the adjacent seat and slides it alongside the stool.
“Thank you.” She sits and extends her hand “Karen” she offers.
“Dana” is the response.
Karen orders a drink and sits quietly for several moments before venture to ask Dana a question. “So, what’s your story?”
“How long you got?” Dana asks half joking.
Last winter I reread some Edgar Allen Poe short stories at the recommendation of my daughter. I was experiencing writer’s block at the time, so i thought I would try my hand at a parody, writing in the style of Poe. What emerged was the story I present below. It is whimsical as well as macabre, but consider the inspiration. I trust you will identify the various themes from Poe erupting in my story. I hope you enjoy this bit of lunacy.
One might think me mad to hear my tale, but that is only because you have not heard it rightly. Thus I have sat down this night to set things right. I am certain when you hear it from me you will not think me so. In fact, you should find me the sanest of all people. No doubt, when confronted with the surety of the facts you will deduce that you would have acted in self same manner.
I was nigh to my twentieth summer when I met my sweet Lulabelle Fee. I had long since turned to loving all living things and had denounced the way of the carnivore in deference to eating vegetable matter only. Continue reading “The Big Pizza: A Macabre Tale of Regret, and Justice, and Anchovies”