6 posts tagged “bizarro fiction”

Yesterday I was thinking of the subject of happiness. I wonder if sensitivity and happiness are directly related. I think so.

I am able to create moments of "happiness" where I take pleasure in the most simplest of things and where I make connections between the dissimilar. I can be very creative in my perspectives to where I am able to create my own worlds and wholly exist in them. But I admit that sometimes I can allow those worlds to become nightmares of some sort where sinister faces and scenes appear around every corner and sweet, pure and playful things aren't exactly as wonderful as they seem. This happens if I let it because there are so many ways to perceive when you let in a variety of triggers ("changing agents" or perhaps "malevolent bottles of dyes") and when invisible shape-shifter entities are seen only when they take on a specific form or identity.

Sometimes you find that those shape-shifters are many sly copies of yourself.

I just had a random thought. Looked outside of my window just now and saw a tall cluster of trees that has been there for as long as I can remember. Their branches and leaves are swaying in the windy atmosphere. I thought to myself, "These are someone's veins." I also began to think that sometimes a hyper-manifestation of details is very sickening...

Where is the blood? Is the blood air? Is the blood represented by any place water exists?

I recently got this vision of being in an eerily silent hallway full of doors on each side. The doors are semi-transparent to where I can see the movement of shadows behind them but no clarity. The end of the hallway shows a panel of two doors, also partially transparent, no knobs, with the out pour of muted bright light. I turn away from the end of the hallway as there is no way to open up the panel. Each time I look for a door handle, a shadowed body showing from behind the panel copies my movement.

I look around at the hallway doors and go to open up one door. I see giant legs and feet shuffling back and forth as I peer in. When I look up, the legs continue upwards forever with no connected body in sight. But they continue to fidget and as they do I can hear dancing sounds that mimic the effects of empty plastic bottles continually falling down on a surface.

I close the door and look across the hallway to approach another door. I can see thick and clear liquid oozing out of the seams of the doorway. The smell is slightly noxious but induces a euphoric feeling each time I deeply inhale and the pleasure makes me quickly envision fading scenarios of bundled shapes and patterns. I open the door and a huge eye is revealed. The eyeball bulges out of the doorway further, quivering and unable to blink while releasing more of that slimy thick clear liquid from the edges.

I feel this urge to punch the eye in the middle of the pupil. Once I do this, the eye pops like a balloon that has just received a sharp pin prick, and releases the sound of a woman's coquettish laugh. The door closes and the knob disappears with the ting of a bell.

I decide to open another door but as I stand in front of it, something doesn't feel right. I feel as if this is the wrong door to open...ever. I open the door anyway and a gigantic head of a penis pops through the entryway. The meatus is very large and stretchy and as I stare into its tunnel, I find myself immediately sucked into its passage.  As my body is enveloped by the opening, I feel waves of insane pleasure.

The penis passage appears to be another hallway, a fleshy and spongy hallway. I go further into the passage and with each step I hear the combined sounds of pops and erotic male moans at many pitches. The pitches deepen as I move toward the end of the tunnel. There is a throbbing, bulbous and round wad of veiny flesh at the end. A voice emanates from it and asks me if I know madness. The voice is incredibly low-pitched and threatening in delivery. I answer to it that I know madness and I hear a loud gasp. Before I know it, a long arm fronted with a big tightened fist comes through the flesh knob and punches me in the face to where both of my eyes are damaged. I throw my hands to my face and over my eyes in horror and in pain...and I can feel wetness and pieces of delicate tissue seep through the cracks of my fingers. My legs and feet shift back and forth as I try to bear the pain.

The voice continues to speak to me but I have no idea what it is saying. The language is obscure and like nothing I've ever heard before. The voice gets louder and I can feel the interior walls of the penis tightening around my body. They are closing in. I can't move. My body is frozen in the position of tragic agony. The voice tells me to let go many times and "see". I ignore it knowing that I can't move or that I can no longer see due to the damage and mutilation to my eyes. But it continues to tell me to let go and see. I scream in frustration and horror and struggle to do something. Anything. The voice continues to pressure me into submission to its commands. The walls get so tight around my body that I feel I will explode open into a bloody and bony mess.

To my shock, another voice yells out my name and it sounds like my own voice as I strain to make sense of it at first. My voice is also telling me to let go and see. I scream out for help but I realize that this makes no sense. My voice from afar tells me that if I don't let go and see, that I will die and find myself fragmenting into a million pieces, scattered around many worlds never feeling complete or whole no matter how hard I search and look. Each found piece will immediately unlock a new lost piece somewhere else thus continuing the hellish nightmare.

I fight to open my eyes and let go of the tight sensation that continues to envelop around my body. I find that I can begin to see something although my hands are in the same position. I find that I begin to feel free although the walls of the penile passage still tighten around me.

As this new vision comes into focus, I notice that I am in a blue warehouse room. A naked baby is sitting upright in the middle of the room staring at me with very wide doll-like eyes. The color of its eyes cannot be made out as they appear to constantly change in hue far too fast for perception to take hold of.

The baby hiccups and falls over and reveals a propped mirror behind it. I lean down to see what is in the reflection of the mirror. The reflection is of a large nude infant leaning over to peer unto itself. The eyes are alert, expressive and full of bewildered curiosity...

Yesterday I was thinking of the subject of happiness. I wonder if sensitivity and happiness are directly related. I think so.

I am able to create moments of "happiness" where I take pleasure in the most simplest of things and where I make connections between the dissimilar. I can be very creative in my perspectives to where I am able to create my own worlds and wholly exist in them. But I admit that sometimes I can allow those worlds to become nightmares of some sort where sinister faces and scenes appear around every corner and sweet, pure and playful things aren't exactly as wonderful as they seem. This happens if I let it because there are so many ways to perceive when you let in a variety of triggers ("changing agents" or perhaps "malevolent bottles of dyes") and when invisible shape-shifter entities are seen only when they take on a specific form or identity.

Sometimes you find that those shape-shifters are many sly copies of yourself.

I just had a random thought. Looked outside of my window just now and saw a tall cluster of trees that has been there for as long as I can remember. Their branches and leaves are swaying in the windy atmosphere. I thought to myself, "These are someone's veins." I also began to think that sometimes a hyper-manifestation of details is very sickening...

Where is the blood? Is the blood air? Is the blood represented by any place water exists?

I recently got this vision of being in an eerily silent hallway full of doors on each side. The doors are semi-transparent to where I can see the movement of shadows behind them but no clarity. The end of the hallway shows a panel of two doors, also partially transparent, no knobs, with the out pour of muted bright light. I turn away from the end of the hallway as there is no way to open up the panel. Each time I look for a door handle, a shadowed body showing from behind the panel copies my movement.

I look around at the hallway doors and go to open up one door. I see giant legs and feet shuffling back and forth as I peer in. When I look up, the legs continue upwards forever with no connected body in sight. But they continue to fidget and as they do I can hear dancing sounds that mimic the effects of empty plastic bottles continually falling down on a surface.

I close the door and look across the hallway to approach another door. I can see thick and clear liquid oozing out of the seams of the doorway. The smell is slightly noxious but induces a euphoric feeling each time I deeply inhale and the pleasure makes me quickly envision fading scenarios of bundled shapes and patterns. I open the door and a huge eye is revealed. The eyeball bulges out of the doorway further, quivering and unable to blink while releasing more of that slimy thick clear liquid from the edges.

I feel this urge to punch the eye in the middle of the pupil. Once I do this, the eye pops like a balloon that has just received a sharp pin prick, and releases the sound of a woman's coquettish laugh. The door closes and the knob disappears with the ting of a bell.

I decide to open another door but as I stand in front of it, something doesn't feel right. I feel as if this is the wrong door to open...ever. I open the door anyway and a gigantic head of a penis pops through the entryway. The meatus is very large and stretchy and as I stare into its tunnel, I find myself immediately sucked into its passage.  As my body is enveloped by the opening, I feel waves of insane pleasure.

The penis passage appears to be another hallway, a fleshy and spongy hallway. I go further into the passage and with each step I hear the combined sounds of pops and erotic male moans at many pitches. The pitches deepen as I move toward the end of the tunnel. There is a throbbing, bulbous and round wad of veiny flesh at the end. A voice emanates from it and asks me if I know madness. The voice is incredibly low-pitched and threatening in delivery. I answer to it that I know madness and I hear a loud gasp. Before I know it, a long arm fronted with a big tightened fist comes through the flesh knob and punches me in the face to where both of my eyes are damaged. I throw my hands to my face and over my eyes in horror and in pain...and I can feel wetness and pieces of delicate tissue seep through the cracks of my fingers. My legs and feet shift back and forth as I try to bear the pain.

The voice continues to speak to me but I have no idea what it is saying. The language is obscure and like nothing I've ever heard before. The voice gets louder and I can feel the interior walls of the penis tightening around my body. They are closing in. I can't move. My body is frozen in the position of tragic agony. The voice tells me to let go many times and "see". I ignore it knowing that I can't move or that I can no longer see due to the damage and mutilation to my eyes. But it continues to tell me to let go and see. I scream in frustration and horror and struggle to do something. Anything. The voice continues to pressure me into submission to its commands. The walls get so tight around my body that I feel I will explode open into a bloody and bony mess.

To my shock, another voice yells out my name and it sounds like my own voice as I strain to make sense of it at first. My voice is also telling me to let go and see. I scream out for help but I realize that this makes no sense. My voice from afar tells me that if I don't let go and see, that I will die and find myself fragmenting into a million pieces, scattered around many worlds never feeling complete or whole no matter how hard I search and look. Each found piece will immediately unlock a new lost piece somewhere else thus continuing the hellish nightmare.

I fight to open my eyes and let go of the tight sensation that continues to envelop around my body. I find that I can begin to see something although my hands are in the same position. I find that I begin to feel free although the walls of the penile passage still tighten around me.

As this new vision comes into focus, I notice that I am in a blue warehouse room. A naked baby is sitting upright in the middle of the room staring at me with very wide doll-like eyes. The color of its eyes cannot be made out as they appear to constantly change in hue far too fast for perception to take hold of.

The baby hiccups and falls over and reveals a propped mirror behind it. I lean down to see what is in the reflection of the mirror. The reflection is of a large nude infant leaning over to peer unto itself. The eyes are alert, expressive and full of bewildered curiosity...

As Patrick pulled up to the remote hospital near the outskirts of town, he noticed that the parking lots and the premises overall were empty. There was only one car near the front of the hospital entryway and it appeared to be an abandoned slick black Camaro. The Camaro had odd characters carved into the paint job and the tires were missing.

Patrick wondered if the hospital was closed. He also wondered what kind of hospital this was. It was strange and in a very remote part of town that he'd never been to. Why did his friend recommend this place to him last week? There was no one here. Could he even get in?

Patrick took his cell phone out of his pocket and decided to call Thomas. He wanted to verify that he was at the correct address but Patrick noticed that his cell phone could not pick up a signal. He looked again at the building through his car window and saw that the street address matched what he wrote down on paper.

1771.

He was certainly on the street of Uriah. He was on time for his appointment. He also knew that there was no other hospital around the area, so this had to be it.

Patrick decided to get out of his car and walk up to the entrance. As soon as he neared two feet of the entry doors, he was asked to insert his driver’s license into a nearby slot on the left wall for identification. This bewildered Patrick but he figured since he had an appointment, this might be the way that the hospital allowed certain people in during, what seemed so far to be, off-hours.

Once he inserted his ID, the doors automatically slid open and the whimsical and exciting sound of coins falling rapidly and repeatedly out of slot machines could be heard, although there were no slot machines to be seen near the doors and it made no sense to hear them. The place was certainly not a casino of any kind.

He noticed that all of the lobby seats were empty as well. The black and white tiled flooring created a continuous Escher pattern and the walls were decorated in loud, hypnotic, spiral motifs. The chairs arranged around the wall in the lobby were in greens, blues, reds and pinks. They were very modern-looking and resembled the shape of the letter s with wavy indentations.

No one was at the front desk.

Soon, over the speaker system, Patrick heard an echo of melodious chuckles, a clearing of the throat and then a voice prompt, in a strange high-pitched voice with deep undertones, telling him to take a seat only on a green chair and patiently wait to be assisted.

Patrick looked around. He felt a bit scared and extremely confused. What was this place? Where were the staff and medical professionals? None of this made sense.

He walked over to a dark green chair and hesitantly sat down on it. He waited awhile and looked toward his right which stretched down into a very long and slightly dark hallway. He could see no end to the hallway due to the increasing darkness within its visible depth. However, he began to hear something.

Footsteps.

Light footsteps.

As he strained his eyes and edged over the dark green chair to see clearly into the hallway horizon, he started to see a small figure make its way toward the lobby. The figure looked like it belonged to a small child. As the figure emerged into the lobby, Patrick could see that it was indeed a child. The child was unusual looking. It was a girl and she looked like no girl Patrick had ever seen.

She had very black skin like the color of a traditional bowling ball and platinum blond hair that seemed natural rather than dyed. Her cheeks were rotund, shiny and plump so much that they looked like artificial protrusions that hid surgical implants underneath. The little girl's eyes were a piercing glowing green. But a dark emerald green, like the chair Patrick was told to sit in earlier. Her little legs awkwardly crossed over one another as she walked. It was a very rhythmic and robotic walk and cadence. Patrick saw that she was dressed in tiny pantaloons that were puffy around the thighs. The shirt, which exposed her smooth and chubby dark belly and hosted an image of a circle on the front, had puffy short sleeves to match the pants. The entire outfit was lime green.

The little girl was holding a green tray and as she came close to Patrick, he saw that the tray contained a light green candy bar with an infinity symbol embedded on it. The coating of the bar seemed to be some kind of fondant.

Patrick felt paralyzed. He had no idea what was going on and who this peculiar little girl was. He also thought about her parents. Didn't she have parents around? Who was supervising this weird little girl?

"Hey there...are you here by yourself?"

The little girl continued to stare at Patrick with the tray in front of her. She slowly formed a wide but closed-mouth smile but made no other gesture.

"What is your name? Can you understand me? Where are your mother and father? Are they around? Is anyone else around the hospital? Can you tell me?"

The little girl stopped smiling and raised the tray higher and closer to Patrick.

"Eat," she said in a very babyish voice.

"Eat what? The candy bar?"

The little girl giggled and nodded her head playfully. Patrick didn't want to eat anything from the tray. The bar appeared to be clean and no one had bitten into it, but although this was a child, this was a stranger nonetheless and he didn't know what to expect.

"If you tell me your name and get someone to come to the front desk, I will eat a piece of your candy bar OK? Deal?"

The little girl's lips began to quiver and form into a pout and her crystal dark-green eyes started to tear up. She lowered her head and began to cry.

Patrick looked around alarmed to his left and right, especially toward the hallway to see if anyone heard her crying. No one came and the girl cried louder.

"Shhhhhh! Please...stop crying. I'm sorry. Look...I'll eat a piece of your candy bar OK? Just a small piece. But after this you'll have to call someone in to begin my appointment or else I am going to leave."

The little girl looked up from the tray into Patrick's eyes and began to smile again. Patrick picked up the bar from the tray and held it up to his nose. It smelled strongly of vanilla and lemon. The smell was inviting and he could not detect any foulness or decay in its odor.

He broke open the candy bar and was shocked to notice that not only was the inside of the bar hollow but the interior of each broken piece contained a minuscule room with little humans inside of it. They were in the middle of various scenes within a torn apart living room space. He could see a woman in the kitchen cooking, a tiny man on the couch watching TV, 2 miniature children on the floor playing board games with one another and a couple of older people at a dining room table reading.

They all, except for one little man, were oblivious to Patrick's surreal intrusion. Before Patrick could react, he saw that the little man on the left broken piece of the bar stopped watching television, turned around to stare at Patrick and got off the couch. He walked toward the jagged end of the broken bar and sat down with his small legs dangling off the edge. He lifted his diminutive hand and pointed directly at Patrick.

Patrick got the chills, jumped back, let out a yelp and dropped the bar pieces onto the floor and immediately felt the beginning of tremors below the ground and around the walls in the hospital room. It felt like an earthquake. The little girl was gone without a trace although the tray was now on the floor near the disjointed candy bar. The candy bar pieces now looked like the parts of a smashed green scarab beetle with perfectly round blood clots.

Patrick backed away from the wall in horror and began to call out for help. No one came. He saw that the wall behind the chairs was developing cracks and that with each tremor the cracks were fracturing further.

He ran toward the entrance doors on the let but he could not get out. They were locked and would no longer slide open. He banged on the glass doors repeatedly but they still would not open. Patrick saw a full parking lot outside of the glass doors and a thriving community of people walking around. He screamed frantically for assistance and desperately hoped that someone outside would hear him.

No one paid attention.

No one heard him.

The wall as well as the flooring was now splitting fully into two sections...and each side was moving in different motions as if they were on a balancing scale. Patrick stood with his back flat against the glass entry doors in sheer terror watching as the room continued to split in half. He was on the verge of fainting when he saw what the split began to reveal. A pair of extremely large eyes slowly materialized through the ever-growing split revealing a human face with a wide-eyed curious expression.

Patrick started to feel an eerie sensation in his limbs. The sensation forced one of his arms to propel upward and point to the face between the opening. He could fully see the human now. They were holding up each end of the broken-apart hospital room with their gigantic hands. He jutted out his index finger to point at the face peering further into his side of the hospital lobby and let out an unearthly long shriek between his wildly-tortured, stretched-open mouth.

At that moment both sides of the room were released by the humongous hands and Patrick's body slammed hard against the glass doors as he felt a dramatic drop into an indescribable abyss...

He walked into the Chinese restaurant and waited to be greeted and seated. He was led to a dimly lit seating booth and given a menu to browse.

He maintained a pleasant and modest smile throughout his exploration and eventually decided upon a blended cocktail drink and a sirloin steak dinner.

The waiter came to take his order and politely left the table.

The man surveyed the restaurant and took notice of the various shapes, colors and beings placed around him. It was all very stimulating...and catalytic.

The waiter made his way back with the man's cocktail drink along with a clear glass of cold iced water. The man's eyes became wider and wetter around the edges as the cocktail drink was placed on his table. The alcoholic drink contained a bright red maraschino cherry impaled by a decorative transparent pick.

The waiter asked if the man would like anything else and the man gave a firm motion of his hand to indicate no. The waiter announced that his dinner would arrive soon and left the table.

As the man looked around again to glance about the room, he noticed that shapes, hues and sounds were all one and this was a sign. The feeling and the message were very intense to him, but he had to wait until the right moment. The right moment would be the defining point and purpose.

He slowly rocked back and forth in his seat and licked his lips continuously to keep them wet and sensitive. He intermittently placed his middle finger straight down in the cold glass of water and sucked on it until the skin was irritated and taut.

Soon the waiter arrived with the man's steak dinner. He greeted the man with an obligatory and hospitable grin and placed his plate on the table warning the man that the plate was hot. The man moved his cocktail drink in front of himself and casually plucked off the cherry impaled on the pick. He held the pick between his right thumb and index finger in a precise manner and as the waiter begin to question if the man desired anything more, the man then dramatically shoved the pick into his left eye until only a point was visible.

Contact had been made and the moment was gloriously defined...

A bucket full of bruised baby hearts was found alongside a twisted gray road. A worn traveler made the discovery and felt compelled to bring the keepsakes home. He had heartless bodies waiting in the ground in his backyard and finally, it seemed as if they could serve a purpose and fulfill their destinies.

The bodies were dug up after the traveler finished a hearty meal of clam chowder and cornmeal biscuits. His temples were sore and tight from vigorous chewing.

Bodies were placed side by side on the cynical grass, like sardines resting in a tin can, as the earth was disturbed. Each body had been preserved well in plastic casings filled and submerged with curious and strangely aromatic oils, salts and resins. The traveler looked over all of the bodies as they were uncovered and placed his hand over his heart in sacred sentimentality. He felt a vibration underneath his hand and yearned for something very promising and unspeakable. He suddenly imagined a sky full of luminous stars bleeding brightly with softly jagged and hazy light auras.

He pulled the bucket of injured baby hearts near and began to fondle them in his hands to feel their texture, moistness and power. He knew that these would do very well. They had history but they also had a future. The very nature of their condition established this fact and the traveler was the magician. The traveler now imagined a universe completely packed with infinitude of bodies each possessing a center with radiating life orbs.

He took a pocket knife and slashed open one of the body casings and complicated liquid gushed out all over the grass and onto the traveler's steel-toed boots. He began to whistle peacefully and proceeded to cut open the other body casings. Invisible lives were being murdered and replaced with tangibility.

Once all of the casings were completely opened, he gathered a baby heart in his hand from the bucket and placed one directly into the withered but well preserved and black blood-crusted hole of the chest cavity of one of the bodies. The traveler's whistling got a little louder and sharp and he continued embedding hearts into each body. Thirteen bodies total were invaded.

The traveler began to feel weak and the initial vibrating in his chest became more tremulous. His vision also began to darken and blur and his mouth and throat locked up and became arid. His whistling turned into fierce and desperate expulsions of air; a violent zephyr-kissed melody.

The traveler tried to stand up but instead collapsed theatrically onto ground. The bodies on the grass began to transform and shape-shift. All of the traveler's clothing articles disappeared into the secrets of air. The traveler's body unfolded out on the grass in stark nakedness with steady trembling and shaking.

The mouths of the corpses each formed into the shape of a small circle and staccato puffs of air came out of all of them. The spurts of air eventually took on the familiar sound of the traveler's smooth and elegant whistling that he previously was able to express. The casings fell away and the torsos of the bodies rose slowly until they reached upright and erect sitting positions.

Each face on the body slowly took on the features of the traveler's face as the mouths continued to churn out haunting whistles. The bodies eventually began to stand up and gather great strength and vitality. Each turned out to be complete duplicates of the traveler's physical disposition.

They all drew near the traveler's lifeless corpse and stood over him in a tight gathering while staring down at his body with wide and penetrating bloodshot sets of eyes. The live facsimiles joined hands and walked around the traveler's body in a clockwise path. As they circled around continuously, his body began to dry out, shrink and erode and in his place, a startling pile of clothing garments and many pairs of steel-toed boots materialized. The circling slowed down to a halt and each entity grabbed a piece of clothing to get dressed in.

There was much to be done. They cleared out and cleaned up the yard and the casings were thrown away completely. Each of the entities needed to get some rest and prepare for the next day's mission, which was to gather enough food and clothing, set out onto town roads, hitchhike and make homes in new areas.

Once the entities were settled into their new abodes, their silent killing sprees would begin in local areas and pristine backyards would soon be filled with fresh, dehearted and mercurially preserved vessels.

"So what do you do for a living?"
"I bake snakes."

"What did you think? That two men couldn't have sex together and not mistake a knife for a fork?"

"How's that washer and dryer unit working?"

She began laughing insanely and writhing violently on that filthy mattress.

"I am inclined to think that any man can chew his way through his own fat if he wanted to."

"What's so funny about this? I don't know anyone else? Do you? Because I've got a lot of jitters in my heart and each time I expel, the world moves with me."

"Susan doesn't think with all of her sunsets. Eventually, they'll all expire and that will be the Ends of Days for her."

"I know plenty of Christmas men. They are proud, strong and think with a good hunter and gatherer instinct. That'll make any mother proud, that she'll sparkle like a tree and her love will burn like an eternal flame in the passions and throes of the holy fireplace of life."

"Harmony and precincts go together. When one is absent, there's no place for individuals to gather in championship and peace."

"Why those would make a fine pair of gloves! Just hollow out the flesh and bone and hang them up to dry."

"You sure had me fooled. I thought you were lost. But now I recognize you again and we look the same."

The room was very dark, however upon close inspection; she could make out a vague shadow standing in the corner near the heavily curtained windows. The shadow appeared to be rocking back and forth in short sluggish movements. The head looked to be misshapen and the body was somewhat amorphous; long exaggerated extremities and bodily edges that looked to be viscous in texture.
There was a peculiar smell of smoke about the room. She held in her breath and lowered herself further below the bed's mattress level. The shadow began to slowly but steadily drift toward the bed in intermittent but brief displays of disappearances. It looked like a constant play of flickers and with each flicker, the shadow became less amorphous and more revealing...

"Charlie! Charlie!! Please listen to me! Listen to me!!"

"Would you stop yelling?! What's the matter with you? Why were you screaming like that? "

"I can't help it! There's something down there and we have to get out of here!! I know what I saw and...Oh Charlie I am so scared!"

"You stay right here. I am going to go --"

"No!!! Please don't go!! You'll be in danger! Please!! Listen to me!"

"Alright, alright! Calm down and tell me what you saw."

"I...I....I heard this humming sound while I was reading on the couch and it was coming from the refrigerator. So I decided to check it out and...Oh Charlie..."

"Go on...go on."

"I decided to check it out and I opened the refrigerator. I saw this other world Charlie! This other world!"

"What the fuck do you mean this other world? Are you out of your goddamned fucking mind! You must have been dreaming."

"No no no!!! I wasn't dreaming!! I saw it Charlie, I saw acres and acres of moving fields, tall zigzagged blades of grass and big mountains staggering in a darkening horizon! It looked like I could fall right through. I thought I was seeing things but I wasn't Charlie! I continued to look and before I knew it, the heads of these gel-like creatures appeared around the corners of the refrigerator from inside the view! They had large foreheads and I could see everything inside their heads...there was something, like a central eye in the forehead and that made me see a face when I looked into it. Christ! It was my own fucking face and I could see myself opening my mouth really freakishly wide like I was going to attack myself!! Eat myself whole! My face got closer and I thought I was going to fall into my own mouth and get swallowed so that's when you heard me scream and I couldn't stop screaming Charlie! I closed the door and ran upstairs as fast I could!"

"Evening Sir"
"Evening"
"Say, do you know where Oakley Avenue is?"
"I do. It's one more street over. Just continue down this path and you'll see it. You can't miss it"
"Wondeful. Thank you sir!"
"My pleasure."
The stranger's eyes crinkled tightly around the corners, he smiled and continued watering his grass.
George turned around to survey the path down the neighborhood road. He could see the street, that the stranger referenced, just down the path.
"Say sir, I have one more quest--"
The stranger was gone, along with his house and the entire neighborhood. Right in front of George was a door in the hue of soft dull blue. On the door was a label that said Oakley Avenue in bold Baskerville type. George was stunned and bewildered. He turned around again and saw that the back wall of an empty sterile room, in the same color of the door, had replaced the view of the neighborhood road.
George faced the door again and saw that it was now slightly ajar and a glowing yellow light was coming through.
George gave the room another look in complete confusion and apprehensively decided to push the door further open and explore...

"I don't like mustard. I especially don't like runny mustard. It's sickening, it's vile and very horrifying...and when I hear her talk, I become devastatingly ill."

"I smoke cigarettes because I can. You drink because you can't. Our convictions are different."