Follow the adventures of Steve Wilson in WWD's new series The Year That Everyone Died
And all of this may be funny. but maybe now its not. Maybe now, you’ll be stricken by the power of ringing truth.
she spoke to me.
It wasn't long after I got back from the MacDonalds on 1st and crawled back onto my cot that I fell deeply asleep as Uncle Donald played Fleetwood Mac’s Rumors on a turntable upstairs.
I had eaten the nuggets of course but it was the extra McRib and small fries that really did me in. For some things napping is the only cure. I would poop when I woke, all would be well.
We were on a beach and I couldn't tell you why. I never liked the beach - all that sand, and sand bugs, and dirt and shit-get all up in your toes and hair- yek - but she walked from a really long way away. It seemed like it took forever and I kept trying to scribble the best idea in the world on a piece of paper but i couldn't read it. And the harder I tried the worse it got.
(by the way if my shrink couldn't figure out that symbolism I’d ask for my nickel back)
Anyway she gets up to me and stands there for a long time. And I want to tell her I’ve been seeing her, that I know she’s been following me around town but i figure I had better not. Let her speak first, be gentlemanly.
And she has something simple to say. “Go to Ashland and find Lester Puloski. Ask him where my body is?” and she turned and walked away. I wanted to follow but my legs were heavy and I was yelling all sorts of things like “Why me?” and other boring questions that she wouldn't answer.
She was still pretty. That was for sure. She stopped and turned and i faintly heard her voice over the rushing wind. I woke but could still hear it. “Christmas is a time for giving up” she said.
Which would be a fancy clue if i hadnt used that phrase a million times. I’m a joke recycler.
Do you know the difference between Jelly and Jam
Not sure what's going on? Click here for pilot episode of The Year That Everyone Died
No comments:
Post a Comment