| Previous |
More writing by Bruce Taylor |
![[graphical bar]](../graphics/mmrbar5.gif){kind=small}
Kafka's Uncle: The Unfortunate Sequel
and Other Insults to the Morally Perfect
The Dreamscape 2
-- And so succumbing, Anslenot goes deeper and wonders distantly about the strangeness of sitting on a tarantula, in the middle of a featureless and icy world, going into a spider-induced hypnotic trance. He remembers, distantly, about false memories but knows that these are coming from him, and he's at once assailed by the disappointment that these aren't false memories, yet he has a strange sense of freedom that he knows that what he sees does come from him yet he's frightened that if it does come from him, what does it mean?
As if able to read Anslenot's mind, the tarantula muses, "What does it mean, indeed, Indeed, indeed, what does it all mean? Such a mys-hiss-tory."
"-- I don't want to-- " whispers Anslenot. Something black and vile moves within him. "I-- I don't want to-- "
"You don't have to . . ." comes the voice. "Your choice."
"I can't-- " whispers Anslenot.
"You can," says the tarantula.
"I want to come out-- "
"Then come out."
"I can't-- choose-- "
"Maybe something is choosing for you," comes the silky whisper of the spider.
Anslenot sits on the tarantula, the sky is white, the white snows stretch level and far away and Anslenot sits, chin to chest, there, but everywhere, still, but moving, conscious but so unconscious, courageous but so afraid, wanting to come back out but so needing to go deeper in. He whispers, "What part choosing for me-- "
"Don't know," comes the voice, "what part chooses for you-- "
Suddenly, Anslenot drops onto a chess board. He looks about. Then, kneeling, he places a hand on the black square on which he kneels. It's cool to the touch. Marble, he thinks, black and white marble squares. He stands, looks around. A black king is checkmated in a corner by a gleaming white bishop and knight. The king looks beseechingly at Anslenot. "Can't help you son, I'm stuck. Victim of bad choices, bad moves."
The bishop and king look at Anslenot. "We can't help either. We have to stop this Black Menace-- or is it Yellow Peril? We don't know nor do we know why we are doing this. We just must. Duty and obligation over conscious choice and free will though, on some level, we did choose what we are. Now we're stuck, however conscious or unconscious that may be."
Anslenot is about to ask what it is he needs help from and then he sees Something. The blue sky above abruptly clouds over, the sunlight grows dim and a cold wind blows and a twilight comes on. In the distance, funnel clouds drop, lightning rips the sky and Something steps onto the chessboard. Anslenot feels his hair rise on his neck, his heart races and the feeling of lightheadedness and his mouth becomes dry and he hears, "I am your nemesis. I am your nightmare."
The Something slowly approaches Anslenot. It has penetrating, silver eyes, almost looking like that of a cat, reflecting light. It appears almost as if a black tornadic cloud, a squat, black whirlwind, and it whispers, "I am your worst fear-- "
Anslenot screams, "Oh, my God I don't want to look, take me away from this, lead me-- lead me-- !"
The Something continues to approach. "I am your nemesis." The voice is that of wind over ice, over ancient graves of those who died too soon for no worthy cause, for useless wars and causes beneath contempt. "I am your reckoning and I will tear your flesh from your bones, your brains from your skull, your tongue from your mouth, your soul from your heart, for I have come to destroy you-- "
| Previous |
Return to Top |
