Creative Writing 300

Unicorn Meat Prompt

Once we made it to mars they stood no chance. Beneath the moon on a lone cloud stood a herd. Some Missouri man saw the shadow of a horn and alerted the officials.

“You’re fucking crazy,” they said.

“You’re fucking missing out,” he said.

He had a cousin in Santa Cruz who worked for a startup that could fly planes. He called him, said he lost his dog, and within a day they were flying high with binoculars.

“Buckle yourself,” his cousin said.

He didn’t listen, he leapt and dove like a peregrine, pinning the unicorn to the ground, driving his fingers and fists into the rib, ripping out the heart. A native man stood in the cornfield, and said, “Watti tabbi tabbeet watti!”

The other river folk noticed and joined the native man with his knife. He took the heart and offered it up to the sun. It didn’t stop bleeding. It made a river the folk drank from.

The Missouri man ripped the eyeballs from the animal and probed its brain. The native cut the flaps of skin off.

Zip zip.

The folk sank their teeth into the bare flanks of meat. The Missouri man followed and couldn’t help but think that it tasted like the thing on the menu whose name only looked appetizing, he asked for salt. The native man thought it tasted like life, and his heart beat more full. A naked man came out from the cornfield with a baseball cap and glove, tasted it, and said it tasted like children.

When the meat was off the bone, it neighed and its bones ascended in a gallop, around the sun and the men watched the plane land nearby.

“How the fuck did you survive that fall?” his cousin asked.

With blood over his mouth and eyeballs in his hand he said, “I’ve survived worse.”

Dragon Prompt

Momma says I’m smart and that’s what I am, but I’m actually hungry, that’s what I am. Momma says she’ll fetch something for me and put it on the table outside. When it’s ready I go outside and see a snack walking up from the St. Lawrence River all shiny from the glare of the sun and eat all of it up except the scroll it was carrying. I go inside and she says, “How was it?” I say, “Crunchy.” She looks outside and says, “But, it’s still on the table!” I guess we just disagree sometimes.

Down the hill, there’s a town full of floating houses with snacks inside who we help by blowing fire on the logs they gather in an area near the middle. Momma and Poppa usually fly down there, but my wings grew in like horns beneath my skin. They’ve tried straightening out my bones too, but the wood always breaks because my legs are too strong. Momma said it’s what makes me special, Poppa said nothing. Poppa usually says nothing. I just sit there and blow bubbles with my drool.

I’m in the town and I’m looking at the snacks and one comes up to me and says something like, “It’s the dumb one. He’d be smarter dead.” Momma says they call me dumb because they dumb themselves. I burp and a little fire comes out and the snack who said it, whose eyes almost pop out from the fat pushing up against his face, seemed to be smiling white when his frown was burnt off so that he fell into a bunch of white things that became disconnected. Making people smile makes me smile. Hee haw hee haw.

The townsfolk came over with some water and put it next to me so I could drink, because I never know when I’m thirsty, but they know when I’m thirsty, and I drank so the burning in my chest would calm down, but I played a prank on them and made the water boil in my mouth so when I spit at them, they let out these screams of joy. Their skin drooped to their clothes before turning into a puddle on the ground and they brought out the loud thingies they called canyons that played catch with me.

They lit the canyon and the ball flew out almost too fast to see but I’m good at this game, so I caught it and threw it back to them, making one snack pummel through a wall into the house. I guess the snacks family was in the house, and he missed them.

Before I knew it, they put a net around me and started sticking me with these sharp things. Fire came out of the holes they put there and burnt the net. It reminds me of when they cut me open as a baby to try and make sense of my condition. It hurt, but it was cool; I made the town turn red and there were these white smiles everywhere. Ma and Pa came down the hill and scooped me up and took me back and locked me in my room. Ma said, “You know better,” and Pa said, “gggRRRRrrrrrr.” I say, “Sawrry aboot thayt,” but I know they know I love being in my room because I have my action dragons there, wearing doohickeys and capes.

There’s this one without wings like me, who has this big goofy smile and diaper like me. If I press down his legs, his wings flap and I throw him against the wall so he flies. He tells me his Momma says he’s smart too. He tells me all sorts of things like how he has a crush on a snack they have roped up and feed slop to. They say a horse kicked her when she was young, and now she thinks she’s a horse. She neighs and lets people ride her and says “Yee-haw” when they hit her with a whip. I sometimes wish it was a horse who kicked me.

Car Prompt

The mens’ clothes held sweat around them as it cooled and evaporated from the air passing through the half cracked windows and vents.

“Why can’t we get past 70?”

“Cuz 60 is peak efficiency.”

“You’re always telling me things I know.”

“Why’d you ask?”

“Just think going faster won’t hurt.”

They passed a Navajo family selling sweet loaf and jewelry made in China. Where the road faced, the land gave way to more land red and barren. In other directions there was smoke and lightning and rain.

“You think she’ll make it?”

“I’m more worried about our gas.”

“Could funnel gas from the ground. Dinosaurs roamed here.”

“We’re not looking for miracles, just peace.”

“She deserves it.”

Tentacles wrapped around a red solo cup with water splashing each turn. Bill grabbed the cup to steady it in his hand and the octopus wrapped around his pointer finger he poked into. It pulsated a few beats and lost its grip splashing more water out of the cup.

The heat morphed the road through the silent steam that fled the V8 to freedom. Sound-waves from the lightning reverberated the water in the red solo cup and the steam turned grey, the engine rumbled and stumbled and slowed, sputtering to the side of the road. The men stood under the hood thumbing their chins.

“We need coolant.”

“Closest coolant is ten miles off the road.”

“We don’t have any water to pour?”

“Unless we let Ollie loose from it.”

“They can live outside, right?”

“Not for long.”

“What do we do, wait for it to cool?”

“Ollie’s on borrowed time.”

“We could push it.”

“That’s dumb.”

“Alright, genius.”

“We can leave a little water in the cup. The storm’ll catch us eventually.”

When they opened the car door they saw Ollie’s scrotum dome display the colors of the galaxy flatlining to a blank white similar to the cup’s inside.

“I’ve never seen her get so white while sleeping.”

They poured the cup’s water onto the engine so it sizzled then hummed when the key turned. They passed fifteen minutes on the road and the air cooled as the clouds came near. A grumbled voice cracked.

“Big blue?”

“Ten minutes Ollie.”

“Thanks babe. Cig?”

“One sec.”

“Thanks.”

He lit a cigarette and gave it to the octopus who curled its lips as not to wet the filter. Ollie only needed two tentacles to hold it. As they came to the end of the road the red land emptied to blue, and large birds flew against the flanking storm. Waves outspoke the thunder when they exited the truck. The octopus finished its puff and wrangled itself around the passenger’s wrist.

“Anything else you need?”

“Just to be tossed far into the sea.”

“Got it.”

The passenger flung the octopus above the waves as a bird swooped down and speared it and the octopus’s colors oscillated the big bang before going spectral with the bird landing on sand and more birds landing on the sand, each lunging and poking and tearing until blackened gills were left for the tide.

“Fuck.”

Eyeball Ring Prompt

Rubber that sticks, lumps and bumps, a red iris floats lazily-the pupil of a copperhead with lashes painted on as if they were triangular chompers spaced out, white on black. It has a lure that invites inspection, a whispering eye, is its erogenous zone where it hinges or where it’s looking? Upside down, the eye goes blank and makes me feel as if I left the oven on at my childhood home. It never makes direct eye contact, what does it know that I don’t? I can’t question it seriously, as its novelty is that of a ring pop, the plastic framing of the eyeball has an equator where the machine fused it. I can see beneath its lid as I pull the eye from it. It's glued to the rubber, the ring, the feeling I remember around myself.

I think John won it at the park for throwing a hoop around a bottle. That night, us brothers beside our twin and bunk beds lined ourselves up, dropped our drawers, and wrote on the wall with a scarlet crayon whether we stretched it or not, giving the youngest, Gabe, a pat on the back and a “You’ll get there soon enough.” I was the middle child, and it mostly fit flaccid, but when it became engorged with blood it’d stretch, but never too much because it’d stop my circulation.

My oldest brother John had steel wool and a firehose. He slept with his pants off and while in bed, he’d say, “Mike, Gabe, look!” and we’d see he pitched a tent under his comforter. We could only pitch a tent with thin sheets. Had he slept on his stomach he could spin like a top. We wished we could spin like a top. So, before and after slumber, Gabe and I would tug it pink, stretch it out over the course of days and weeks and years so that it grew and became tan.

At the dinner table, sly smiles were shot at each other, and we became a subset of the family, almost separate enough to be our own force. “Private Private!” we’d salute each other, our members dangling. We’d whip out the notebook we’d draw boobs in like googly eyes. “How’s this look?” we’d ask. “Ooohhh, Mrs. Petunya! You dirty devil!” Mrs. Petunya was a Pokémon card of Jynx we glued into the notebook. Gabe had to warm up, I was a light switch, John was a dog with guests over. John once said, “Cardboard turns me on.”

He once had a girl over. Cassie had a runners build, skinny hips and boobs that appeared only when she leaned over. Gabe and I watched from the bathroom pipes where a crack shone his bed. We called it the steam room. Just before this, Gabe became big enough to stretch the ring out. Our baby brother grew in front of our very own eyes. We hugged, inconsequentially sword fighting in the process. John knew we were watching, he always looked out for us, we loved him. She straddled him and we touched ourselves, and when she was grinding and saying, “Oh John, Oh John,” he just laid there. She drove her lady parts into him and burnt like a flame at the end of a wick, but afterwards while our bulls were still raging, he was limp. I’d never seen him limp before. Come to think of it, he was only hard around us.

Geology Museum Prompt

I cannot tell if graveyards are an affirmation or denial of life. I will make no argument as to whether museums preserve or deny. I cannot tell the difference between history and fiction except that it stares at me, a wooly mammoth, its tusks smiling wise as dead. I would smile back, but I forget the feeling that preceded my birth, that I’m headed towards. What do we embalm now for moon people to find later? Freaks, of course, the prettiest, the ugliest, tallest, shortest. What is this mummy’s claim?

The antithesis of my wanderings would be a zoo of natural history where bones give shape to flesh and breath is shared between beings. There’d be trees and space and water, and everything would exist in its own little world with bridges between each. This would evolve, of course, and change with the wind, and expand, and correct until its scope reflects the infinite. That is, something, rather than nothing.

My love, this is where I’ve found you. In this museum of the infinite, we’ve made an exhibit, a platonic ideal. I don’t care they’re looking. In this glass capsule floating through space let it be the testament to all matter and debris that it was worth it. When we mold and our bones mesh and we plummet through atmosphere let us spring new life elsewhere so that it, the struggle, the triumph continues.

Nocturnal Admissions - First Entry

After being raised by conspiracy theorists, Frank Ingle grew to be more clever than his parents. One day after working from home, he passed a trash can that had an outpouring of steam from freshly made lasagna. It reminded him of the November 21st dinner from 7 years ago; But, more importantly, it was another puzzle piece, another sign from the universe. This was extracted from an online forum you’ve probably never heard of—for a reason.

Truth-seekers,

How an idiot would think: Hmm, odd that there’s lasagna in the trash can.

How I think: While I was intelligently reflecting on my prodigious contribution of how Stevie Wonder isn’t actually blind (blind people can’t see) to the vast detective network, I passed a trash can filled with hot lasagna. This isn’t a coincidence. Before, I did not know when to share; But now, the time has been made right.

This is for you, friends, or you, others-if you wish to be led to the light, to smell the flowers and taste the nectar. While we’re all in this alone, we’re all together.

Among the forums and other networks of information that have been webbed together, I mostly see connections made with the two of our senses, hearing and sight; But, lest us not forget, there are more than two senses. If we would like to discover the truth of what’s really going on, it’ll be essential for us to use every sense we have; And, not only use every sense, but relearn to use every sense. We can’t believe things we’ve been told, for being told is no good reason to believe. Something huge will happen; Or rather, it’s happening. How it’s said: What will be done has been done.

It is a fib to think they exist how we perceive them to exist. We’re always inching closer, always knocking at the door they run from. I’ve seen them, I’ve heard them, I have not smelt, tasted or touched them. That is, yet.

After seeing lasagna in the trash can, I knew my story would help something greater than me, but also the cause that relates to us. From my notepad a week ago:

I found myself tied to a chair in a hall of mirrors. I looked up and saw a fluorescent tube light, it’s on/off string dangling to the height of my neck. I grabbed it by my teeth and yanked it down. The light stayed on. Looking up, directly at the light, the rest of the room seemed darker, but looking around the light, my eyes would keep the room brighter. There was a power cord that came from the light and led through the hall of mirrors. I was still stuck and, around this time, heard cobblestone footsteps coming towards me. I realized I was what they wanted, I knew something. Luckily, in that reality, my pockets mimicked those of this universe.

I used my Swiss Army Knife to cut through the ropes and move freely. I kept quiet and followed the light’s power chord to see where it led. What else was I to follow? Sure, they could be leading me here, but why? Don’t let it be said otherwise (otherwhyse), it is the presupposition of a question that asks for the actual answer we seek. Why? An answer to that is an answer to everything. To think differently is to miss it all.

In the mirrors beside me an image of myself follows. This is my other half who looks and moves like me, but as we trail further from the light it disappears, leaving me alone. The footsteps behind me grow quiet and slowly, as I move forward, am encompassed by the darkness. I am now alone; Therefore, I can think without any interference. I seat myself and close my eyes, then open my eyes, or did I close them again? There was no difference. I reached below for the floor and felt nothing. I could stand or lay or sit, but nothing propped me up. It seemed as if I were in a void. I did not panic, I had been here before. I took a deep breath in through my nose and smelt something familiar.

Then there was light, a speck of light twinkling in the distance. As I approached the speck, it grew into a blotch, then a spot; And, as I got closer, I remained wrapped in black. The light was self-contained, but allowed me to peer in as if it were a keyhole. What I saw was not meant for my eyes, but I was witness to it.

Surrounded by a host of men and women with handkerchiefs tucked into the collars of their suits, forks and knives glued to their fists, all grinding their teeth and kicking the floor, was lasagna. Just as I saw this, the lady at the head of the table looked towards me. They knew I arrived. I stared at the lasagna. It mesmerized me. The warm, hot, wet lasagna.

My stomach jerked and I woke up covered in sweat. I kept quiet, looking around my bedroom to see what laid past the shadow. I saw nothing, I heard nothing, I smelled something. It smelled like eggs. I slowly pulled myself up and out from the covers, creeping over to the light switch. I flipped it, this light turned on. The window was closed, my door was as locked as I left it. My laptop was open. Something tried to get into my laptop. Something left their scent. That wasn’t all they left.

Hovering over my desk, I checked where I keep confident information. Everything was where I left it. Only my laptop sat on my desk. There were no footprints on the ground. The window had no prints on it either. I sat down on my chair and logged onto my computer. Nothing was open and my internet history had remained the same; But, I knew something was off, something had to have been off. Why else would I wake up? I looked down; And, right when I looked down, I noticed what they left behind, a clue.

Near the top of my leg, there laid a cloudy white fluid thicker than water. It mostly laid on the inside of my pants, but it soaked through, to the outside of my pants. If there were less on the outside and more on the inside, something must’ve moved it from the outside to the inside. I woke up just in time. Something woke me up just in time. If I were asleep any longer, it would’ve continued to move the substance from outside myself to inside myself. I wouldn’t allow it to happen.

To be careful, I pushed the clothes on my ground to cover the slit of space beneath my door. Next, I pulled the bedsheets over my head, creating a barricade from anything trying to spectate. If this were evidence left behind by them, I had to know everything about it. I took the next step. It smelled close to chlorine or bleach. Hmm, they could’ve produced it in a lab. It tasted salty and metallic. For good measure, I licked it again. It tasted the same: Foreign, yet familiar.

I’ve now realized, this is something I’ve been working my whole life towards. All of my experiences point me this way. It’s pointing towards the answer of all answers, the answer. As it’s been said, what will be done has been done. I am at the finish line, but also catching up. I have more to tell, but I can’t tell it all yet. It will be revealed as it’s allowed. I wait for them to move next.

I’m proud of you all and appreciate your work very much. We people are the people of all people. If anyone has anything to add please do.

TOP COMMENTS:

Anonymous1998: Funny, well not funny as in haha funny, but funny as in aha! funny, like eureka! funny. The type of thing that makes you laugh because it makes sense funny. I had the exact same dream, except I was tied on the table and everyone around me had very long thumbs. I was very aware that someone was watching. I woke up with a smell and substance that matches your description word for word. I wonder if there’s multiple of these chambers with these people? That’s what why we’re viewing things in slightly different iterations. How they follow us from this world into our dream reality is another question. Does that have something to do with what they’re trying to put in us while we sleep? By seeing them did we wake ourselves up in time to catch them in the act? Also, when I awoke, not only did my room smell like eggs, but my thumb did too. Hopefully that adds to what’s really going on. I feel it is too much sometimes, how emotional this all makes me. It cuts through my heart. We are intertwined.

PeteDavidsonBalls: that sounds like cum

Anonymous1998: Just researched it, definitely a possibility. It leads to even more questions, which excites me. Why would they put cum in us and how does that lead to our dreams? Also, doesn’t explain anything else. Cum does loosely rhyme with done: What will be cum has been cum. What will become has been cum. What will become has become.

JerryHatTrick: Interesting work Frank. I notice the smell of lasagna comes up in your dream. It’s what also provoked you to share this beautiful post. It felt as if it wasn’t just you who typed it, I wept while reading. I made a smell chart not long ago that matches smells with other smells. Might come in handy. Also, the thought about the factory, that does make sense. There are plenty of factories nowadays and no one is allowed to see the insides of them. My gut tells me this is something bigger than you think. Stay true, stay strong, don’t take no for an answer-take know for an answer. God Bless you.

Caleb Met His Great Great Great Great Grandfather

Caleb laid on the couch tired with dry sweat, fighting sleep, thinking of his day. The doorbell rang and the father of the house, Joseph, opened it. A short man took two straight legged steps in and Joseph stepped back, his eyes wide. “This is your place Joe?” the man said in his scruffy voice, “Huh. Thought it’d be different. I guess they don’t make homes like they used to, shame.” The mother of the house, Catharine, now in the foyer, was startled. “Hello,” she said to their guest, then quieter to Joe, “Who is that?” She held carrots and a peeler with her left hand fisted, her right hand scratching her forearm.

“It’s my Great Great Great Grandfather.” From a distance, Caleb saw his parents on one side and this thing on the other. The Guest had no knees, only foot long, single-boned legs, two slings holding both of his arms, bright red gym shorts, a young man’s scruffy, patchy, beard and a paint smeared, light blue T-shirt. He was about four feet tall and had all types of tiny bruises and scabs on his legs you could only see from up close. He walked straight past Joseph and Catharine into their kitchen. “Should we ask him to take his shoes off?” Catharine asked Joe. Their direction turned to Caleb, who was still staring into the foyer. Caleb looked into the kitchen to where the guest was. Joseph and Catherine’s attention followed.

“Vegetables?” the Guest said as he sniffed each food item laid on the counter, leaving a loose nose hair or two behind. This time proclaiming “Vegetables. Yes, Vegetables. Beautiful vegetables full of life.” His eyes laid on a deep pot that steam rose from. He got up on his tippy toes, attempting to see what laid in it. All the Guest could see was a reflection of his face, curved across the outside of the simmering pot. He looked frustrated, maybe sad, then tightened up and yelled out “What’re you doing? Useless! Help me up!” Joseph ran over and squeezed him from behind, squatting the extra weight up above the pot.

The Guest had a big, droopy nose, neither underbite nor overbite and light brown hair that could be and was combed back due to how thin the follicles were and how oily his scalp was. “Is this a good height?” Joseph asked. Catharine was cooking something earthy colored, but what the Guest seemed to take pleasure with was the steam that clouded his eyes and opened up the deep pores on his nose. He took a few deep breaths and during his last exhale said “Joseph.”

“Yes?”
”Let’s eat.”
”Catherine, honey. Is dinner ready?”
”Not yet, but it will be soon!” Catharine said.
”Joseph.”
”We’ll have dinner ready soon.”
”I know. I can hear. It will be a fantastic dinner. I wouldn’t expect anything less than that. It’d be a disgrace if it were anything less.”
”Okay.”
”Joseph, I’m going to give you instructions over dinner. Don’t write them down; Also, don’t forget them.”
”What for?”
”Could you just wait until dinner?!”

Caleb, still sitting on the couch, saw his Dad put the Guest down to his feet. He saw the Guest turn to him smirking, then walk towards him as if without the slings, his arms would be outstretched.

“You must be Caleb. My boy,” the Guest shouted. “Nice to meet you Great Great Great Great Grandfather,” Caleb said and the guest tripped over himself, falling face first.

“OUCH,” he yelled before a whimpering low cry of pain followed. Caleb stared at him, now sitting up, Joseph stared at the guest from behind and Catharine’s teeth chattered her fingernails. The Guest whimpered again and Joseph, now near him, put his hand on the Guest’s shoulder to ask “Can I help you up?” but as soon as his hand touched the Guest’s shoulder the whimper turned into anger and shouting “Get off of me! I don’t need your help! Damned vegetables!”

Caleb now stood and Joseph kept his hand on the Guest’s shoulder which fidgeted, the Guest’s legs kicked and nose ran. After a few cycles of kicking and screaming and getting nowhere he tired himself out, became quiet. Joseph stuck his hands into the Guest’s armpits and picked him up again, put him to his feet again.

Catharine returned to the stove and the Guest turned to Joseph and nodded, then waddled back towards Caleb who was two feet taller than him.

“Sorry, Caleb. What was I saying before I fell?”
”We greeted.”
”That’s all we did?”
”I think so.”
”You think so?”
”Yes, I greeted you.”
”Okay, right. Caleb, son, what do you do?”
”I’m working an apprenticeship right now to be a plumber.”
”You like to plumb things?”
”I like hands on work, yes.”
”Okay, but. You like to plumb things?”
”Yes.”
”Good. Alright, a plumber who likes to plumb things! Joseph, how do you feel about that?”
”I feel great. I think Caleb is doing a great job.”
”Right. Plumb’s up!”

The Guest stood with his thumb up, jerking it off, then looked up at Caleb and Joseph’s faces before walking back into the kitchen. “Catharine, would you like any help?” he asked while staring unapologetically at her ass and feet. “I can handle things alright,” she said. “You sure I can’t help in any way?” and she looked at him, who looked up from her ass and feet to the veils of her soul, her deep brown eyes. She was wearing light foundation and red lipstick. She had curly brown hair that stopped near the top of her neck where a pulse beat through for everyone in the room to see. Caleb, Joseph and the Guest all noticed the thum thum that brought red blush to her otherwise pale face. The steam rose from the deep pot on the stove she turned from and her leg curled, her left toe pointed down bearing no weight. “I-I’m fine. Why is everyone looking at me? D-dinner is ready.”

Joseph walked over to Catherine and put his hand on her cheek, leaned in and kissed her, then said “Thank you for dinner honey, let me help you serve it. Caleb, could you make the table for us?” Caleb got up to set the table for four and the Guest stared with admiration at Catherine wanting to give her a salute, but his arms were rubber. “No, I got this Joe. Just save me a seat.” Joe sat at the set table and stared at it while Caleb sat to his right and the Guest sat to Caleb’s right.

It was October 4th of 1981 in the small suburban town of Tewksbury when Catherine walked over to the table twice, each time placing two dishes of Rabbit Cassoulet in front of the three filled chairs and one empty chair that she ended up filling. They blessed themselves, thanked God for their food and ate, at first, quietly; But, what broke the silence and still kept a harmony of sorts was a tableful of throat moaning that came with a meal well made.

Joseph ate around the rabbit meat first, holding his spoon flat to the cassoulet and dipping it, having gravity fill it. Catherine used a fork and scooped with it, watching the liquid fall through and beans fall off. She ate one third the scoops she took, but she smiled at all of them. Her appetite was full from the moans of the people around her. The Guest sat with his arms in sling and the bowl a little too far away. When someone not named Catharine at the table asked if he needed help eating, he thought for a second and asked for his bowl to be pushed closer him. He dropped his face into it, wolfed up his share. Caleb dipped twice into his bowl before biting off of the fork. He’d spear the rabbit meat, hold it up for inspection, then dip again to cover it in the objects of cassoulet that’d stick.

After the Guest’s third face dip, he looked up and said “Catharine. This is great,” which made her smile more than notice the mess that was him. “This is great,” both Joseph and Caleb agreed, “thank you.” When Catharine was not even halfway finished and the rest neared finishing fully, a wind swept through the large window nearby, passed the table and through another window in another room. Wind never traveled to where it would be trapped, it couldn’t exist there.

When the Guest was staring at his feet that couldn’t touch the ground while he sat, Joseph broke the silence. “It’s great having you here, and—”
“Joseph,” the Guest said very lightly, very calmly, cutting him off after smirking with cassoulet smeared around his mouth.
”Yes?” Joseph replied as Catharine gestured with a napkin towards the Guest.
The Guest nodded and Catharine started cleaning his face for him while he continued, “Let’s not ruin it. Would you like to hear your instructions now?”
”Of course. Like you mentioned earlier.”
”Yes. Joseph. First, I want to say thank you, for having me tonight. Not everyone would do that.”
”You’re family.”
Okay, Joseph. Caleb, time is tricky. When you look around, near the end of your life, who do you want to see? Catharine, who would you want to see?”
”Well, I—”
”I’m not interested in your answer. I’m only interested in telling you things, you all. Well, Joseph, as for instructions.”
”Yes?”
”I’d like you to bury me under your lawn. In the back, not far from the house.”
”What?”

In the cassoulet, near the bottom of the bowl laid a rabbit’s tibia amid Canneli beans, red onions, chopped carrots, the broth and a sprig of thyme. The timing was comic, when Catharine took the napkin off the Guest’s face and the Guest’s face lowered back down into the bowl making it dirty again, but it was impossible to even snicker at. Caleb stopped eating, the Guest started coughing. “What’s going on?” Joseph said across the table as Catharine put her hand on the Guest’s back, hitting it—thud. “What’s going on?”

thud, thud, thud, thud

Catharine shrieked, it wasn’t working. Caleb sat still. Joseph’s chair slid back seven feet when he rose. The Guest’s face had come out of the bowl and whenever his body tried coughing out, he swallowed in as much. A small river of tears streamed from his eyes down his face making it seem the Guest was worried; But, when Joseph got behind him again, this time to Heimlich, it further proved the Guest was incapable of receiving help. For no matter how hard Joseph tried to move the Guest’s slung arms out of the way, he couldn’t. They fought for minutes until the Guest’s face turned purple, when his mouth that refused to open, did open. Everyone at the table saw the tibia, lodged in his throat—the throat that Joseph stuck his hand into, the throat the bone was ripped from, the throat that bled afterwards—after he was suffocated, after the tibia was ripped out. No wind would pass through this throat again.

“I won’t bury you in my backyard,” Joseph said weeping, holding the Guest’s head with his palm. They all cried together for some time as the tears on the Guest’s face dried with the cassoulet. A wind swept through a window far away, passed the table and exited through the large window nearby. Eventually, Joseph called 911.

They received the phone call as Catharine cleaned up the cassoulet left on the table and seat where the Guest’s scent lingered. Joseph had no reason to tell Catharine the confirmation the hospital let him know about, so he didn’t. The family was going through a tragedy, their first.

As Catharine laid next to Joseph in bed that night, she poorly played with his hair. She wanted to ask about his Great Great Great Grandfather, but was afraid to bring it up so soon. Rolling over, onto Joseph in a position that aroused him, she squeezed him with a hug and he returned the favor. She kissed his lips and neck and he returned the favor. She continued these acts of kindness and he continued returning favors. Afterwards, they laid naked under their light, but thick, white comforter. It was dark out and fall was upon them. They could hear the wind brush off the rooftop above them and imagined the fall colors that awaited them in a few weeks. That was when Joseph spoke.

“Do you mind if I buy a rake tomorrow?”
”No.”
”Leaves are starting to fall and I would like to get ahead of it.”
”What’s the problem with the one we have?”
”It’s meant for garden work, I’d like a leaf rake.”
”Oh, I knew that. I don’t know why I asked.”
”It’s okay. Did you get to the dishes?”
”I was going to do them tomorrow morning.”
”I’ll do them, don’t worry about it.”
”I don’t mind doing them, Joe.”
”Don’t worry about it.”

As their bodies turned away from each other, signifying goodnight, Caleb was up in his room considering a shower. He laid on his bed licking the salty skin beneath his nose. He traced back the sequence of events aloud, often stopping where the Guest gave Joseph instructions. Growing more upset repeating the account, he thought of his apprenticeship and how he liked to plumb. The day ended.

LB