Short Story / The Everyday Chronicles, Ch 3 The Weird and The Glass Eye (Analysis)

The WEIRD!, it flows through the Veins along side the Blood. Reaching every Pinnacle of the known Universe. Cloudy Mysteries replay in room GH of my Brain established federal building, 2nd Floor. GOD Its so awful, Blood on the walls, mutilated bodies on the floor, hours upon hours scientific work.

The WEIRD! It has invaded my Cranium. The Deltas, the Fault Lines, the Cracks allow it to flow freely through the Landscape of my Cerebro.Out of desperation, The Image of the Goddess of Beauty spreading her legs Oh so FUCKEN JUICY! appears before my mind. It’s victorious in giving me a hard-on, but it’s no match for The WEIRD!.

Almost as soon as it seeps into my Cerebellum, the changes begin. At first, Subtle, Very Subtle. A Random drum beat “boom-boom-tsshh ba-boom- tsshh, boom-boom-tsshh ba-boom-tssh-tssh” followed by a killer air guitar solo “WAH-WAADA WA-WAHH-WAHH WAHH-DAHH WADDA-WAH-WAH”.

Watching Home and Garden Television, thinking of ways to redecorate my house. Realizing an hour into it, I DON’T OWN A HOUSE. Suddenly Whoosh!!! A blur, OUT OF NOWHERES HOMES!!!! Interrupts HGTV. The WEIRD! every time I blink, it’s there. The Blur moving every time I shut my Eyes. It’s here, it’s there, it’s here, it’s over there then there and then over here some more. Blinking once more, the Blur stops and stays. Cornered at the edge of my Vision, that little fucker begins to reveal itself. The WEIRD! Reveals the Blur. It’s a sight to behold when you se the Glass Eye.

The Almighty Glass Eye. Stare into it’s pupil and it’s histories are revealed. Different ones with each glance, each stare. On this occasion, the Eye belongs to John T. Wilks, Lt. of the 21st Battalion. In one of the Great Wars’ Later Battles, The Lt. leads his men into a field of Death. Complete with Landmines and a Opposition that completely outnumbered his Crew. At the end of it, he was the only one alive. Captured and Left to Die in the Northern Ethiopia POW Camp nicknamed “Satan’s Gooch”. 5 Years, Rotting Away, living off rats and sweat had driving ol’ Johnny boy beyond InsanitY into InsanitZ. By the time the War ended and the prisoners were let out, the Lt. had cut his own eye out to see what it look like.

The Glass Eye! Somewhat disturbing. The Sound breaks the trance. The WEIRD! It’s grip slips as the Voice hits my Ear Drums, “All Jurors who came in at 8:00, you are now excuse from Jury Duty for today and the year”. In a White Room With no Curtains…..Sounds Familiar…Sorry Cream!. It’s 12:24 and I Have to get the Fuck out of here.

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