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- {fon:homFF0000}
- A short story of textured life
- {fon:tri}
-
- Little Meredith Gruber Strolled casually into the sweet-shop. Carrie
- the Cat hopped in after her, her skull brimming over with rice
- pudding. Meredith was served by the six foot dwarf. She brought
- singing chocolate, happy death chewing gum and sweet granite
- hand-grenades, the kind that are purple and taste like the colour of
- music. They crawled out of the store, which was starting to bob and
- swim around them and bounced down the marshmallow street, waving to
- the break-dancing dairy cows that chuckled over the hills. Everything
- was beautiful. They slid to just the right spot. It was a traffic
- island of infinite wine-saturation. The grass was yellow and blue.
- They sat down to eat their candy and watch the clowns killing
- themselves over and over again. It was a lovely day, the lemonade sun
- hanged high in the nitric acid. A small cardigan with a moustache and
- shoulder pads gibbered by. The chocolate began to scream when they
- bit into it, but they ate it anyway, the milk-chocolate blood
- dribbling down their chins. They talked for a while about the tensile
- strength of liver and bon-bons, then set off for their home, an
- aluminium carrot in the magic cactus factory. When they were half way
- home, over the Sultan's underground jam-jar vaults something unusual
- happened: Meredith coughed-up a giant clockwork head-louse, which
- coughed-up Tangiers, which coughed-up ribbon, which coughed-up
- tarmac, which coughed-up a magic missile. They knew it was magic,
- because it turned inside-out and chirped with wild abandon.
-
- They were so surprised that they chewed neutron razor blades and
- bled liquid satin for three whole days. "WOW,WOW,WOO! A magic
- missile!" said Meredith. "Cool! Now we can fly and kill like God, you
- bitch!" said Carrie. So They climbed aboard and kicked it into life
- with their star-spangled winkle-pickers. Everything was still
- beautiful.
-
- They fizzed along at great speed through the nitric sky, cutting
- through the purple clouds of ether-syrup and bowler hats in drag.
- They were up to ludicrous speeds when they passed the brass band that
- exploded in slow motion. The inflatable vinyl scottie dogs nipped
- their bubbling heels. Quotes from "The Importance Of Being Ernest"
- were being beamed into their skulls by John Cleese. They flopped and
- whined over the bone-orchards as the glowing harvesters sang "Nice
- One Cyril", and the pickled glue-sticks galloped after a herd of wild
- mangos. Burning crab apples were shrivelling in the distance when
- they sighted their target:
-
- The Cucumber-Robin's butterscotch storage depot. It was a large
- toffee that pulsed orange and green in the sub-sonic, non-existent
- moonlight. "By flippery, I think we're Cilla Black now! Excelsior!"
- screamed Carrie. They went down and hit it dead-centre at
- mould-rubbing speed. It partially exploded one week to the left in
- sugar-coated balls of flame and bass guitar strings. The other half
- deflated like a burst nun, spewing forth illiterate hamster tails
- and sweet-smelling cupboards of star dust. A month before all this
- occurred they choked to death on their own vanity.
- It's still beautiful out there.
-
- {spr:l07}
- {end}
-