The object placed into the box was somewhat important not vital just important. So the object was placed and surrounded in tiny pieces of foam for protection. The box was closed and sealed shut with tape to prevent being opened. An address was written and then a return address also. Then the box was carried to a counter with a register on top of it and a fake smiling human being behind it. The box was carefully taken from the customer with overacted nods and more fake smiles. The box was placed on a scale where it was weighed and then priced.
The customer was asked several questions. Such as how soon would he like it to be there? He said how much does it cost for it to be there tomorrow? 150$!!! Insane, how much would it cost to be there in two days? 100$!!! What’s the cheapest? 2$? That’s perfect. That’s fine. That’s all the customer could afford anyway. The money was exchanged and the customer left. The box had now become a package certified with a sticker and a barcode. It was carried through a door…
Then viscously thrown into a large plastic bin full of other packages.
Here it sat waiting until morning. A man sitting on a toilet just finished wiping his ass with pages from the latest Hustler magazine and then after he was done he busted through a doorway and grabbed hold of the large plastic bin and wheeled it through to another room. All the packages were dumped into another large plastic bin several hundred feet below.
The next morning a guy walked in leaned up against the bin and started picking his nose and wiping his fingers on random packages. Then he started masturbating while trying to keep his thick glasses on that would slide down the bridge of his nose constantly frustrating him. Eventually he coughed and gagged and sighed with relief then zipped up his pants and took the large violated plastic bin to a big brown truck and dumped the packages inside, he kicked the remaining few that didn’t quite make it and slammed the trucks doors.
Another sunrise and a walking beer bellied Budweiser drinking man stumbled, lost balance, regained balance, belched, and then puked before he made it to the truck. He yanked open the door while yawning and slowly and pathetically climbed into the drivers seat. He lit up a cigar, started the engine, and then passed out on the steering wheel. Several hours later he roughly woke up coughed up the cigar he chewed up in his sleep and tried to start the engine. It wouldn’t start since it ran out of gas while he was passed out on the steering wheel so he had it gassed up again by the not so surprised co-workers. Then he drove off and smashed into a telephone pole, sideswiped a parked car, ran a stop sign, and nearly killed a pedestrian.
Late that night and many hit and runs later, the brown truck came to a halt in front of a building. A group of teenagers emerged from a cloud of smoke, tossing their cigarettes and beer cans off in the driveway. They were wearing black make-up, black clothes, had black hair, and enough piercings combined to cover an elephant. They unloaded the packages with great violence and poor creativity. Kicking, juggling, throwing, stomping, playing hockey, playing hot potato, and finally rock, scissors, paper for the final package. The teenagers then disappeared back into the cloud of smoke from which they had come and only brief coughing and snickering could be heard.
The pile of beaten packages lay near the garage door in a dark room, waiting for hours until a light cracks the darkness slowly widening as it reveals a silhouette of legs, then a torso, then the head. A strange steam billowed from the doorway, a shadowy arm reaches out and flicks a switch and the room illuminates. The silhouette becomes an old man with welding goggles on. He’s wearing green, blue, brown, and purple clothing. He removes a stamp from a holster on his hip as if it were a gun. Suddenly he starts laughing hysterically, and then crying while smiling, he swings his arms about like a monkey and jumping around to start a mosh pit with an invisible crowd. The old man dives into the pile of packages and tears his multi colored clothing off his body with a screeching sound as he begins violently stamping each package with a postmark. Once he was done hugging each one against his nude body he got to his feet and began to dance each package into yet another large plastic bin with wheels.
This new morning involved the bin being carted out to an airstrip by a hairy bald man with a skull tattooed on the back of his head. He wore a wife beater, (because extremely hairy men wear wife beaters… to show their hair), He stopped the bin next to the plane. He lit up a cigar (because extremely hairy men who wear wife beaters smoke cigars), and began to toss each package in the cargo hold and only stopped once every five or six minutes to comb his long chest hair (because extremely hairy men with wife beaters who smoke cigars comb thei- wait… no that’s not entirely true), By nightfall the packages were loaded into the plane. The hairy man then removed the cigar from his chapped lips and whistled as loud as possible.
Coming around the corner as if in slow motion a man in all blue denim flicked his cigarette, tipped his cowboy hat, and spit his chewing tobacco on the ground. He picked up his tiny white Pomeranian dog that wouldn’t stop barking and headed for the plane. He gave thumbs up to the hairy bald man and climbed into the plane. The dog immediately found her place on the passenger seat, still barking, and barking, and barking. The man took off his cowboy hat, and tossed it behind him, stuffed another wad of chewing tobacco in his mouth while starting the plane. The engines roared to life sounding much like a blender on high speed with eleven ice cubes inside it. Smoke billowed from either side and the entire thing shook like a giant metal freezing wet cat. Eventually as the plane moved down the runway, the hairy bald man imagined a tortoise carrying a taxi, but somehow it took off.
The pomeranian barking dog didn’t really care that the ocean was right outside the cockpit. She didn’t much mind that the salty water was filling up the plane below her seat. She did however have a problem with the fiery engines, but since she barked way too much in the first place it didn’t really seem like a big deal to the man in the blue denim. He was more angry with the water filling his boots, and that the radio was sparking and buzzing in electrical language shouting “Best not to touch me!” The man wasn’t sure why he was in the ocean right now, but he also wasn’t really sure how to fly a plane either. One minute the clouds were all around him and the next he was… struck by lightning. That had to be it as he recalled while rubbing his split open forehead.
Flying to Hawaii in the flight simulator was much easier although he never could get the landing right. He was quite happy right now, that the instructor hadn’t been shouting at him that he was technically dead, his dog was technically dead, and not so technically he just cost the company more money by having to train him once again. In fact the instructor was so fed up he told him to go fly the next damn plane available and that would save them a whole lot of money when he never came back. So that’s what he did. Eighteen times in the flight simulator and not once was there a lightning storm. Although the ocean was a lot easier to land on than the simulated runway because, he’s technically still alive and so is his dog. As he heard the foghorn from a rescue ship he got the sinking feeling that he may have swallowed the chewing tobacco he stuffed in his mouth during take off.
He picked up his barking pomeranian and climbed to the top of the plane. He sighed with relief when he noticed that the flaming engines were no longer flaming thanks to the rescue boat. He waved at them and they replied with very crude body language such as “the bird” or “flipping off” or a hearty “fuck you!” he frowned but he at least was going to be saved. The packages? That could be a problem since the plane was sinking. He honestly didn’t care but he did finally notice that the dog never stops barking and so did the rescue men.
Another day starts and a different boat floats where the rescue ship once was. Much larger and much more rusty, much more noisy, and probably slowly ruining the environment. It was definitely disrupting the calmness of the ocean as it roared and squealed. A large chain made its loud metallic clicking sounds as it pulled the plane from the salty water. An older man with his fingers in his ears nods constanly at other men who nod back constantly with their fingers in their ears as well. This seems to be some sort of active communication that none of them could really do anything without. If this man had stopped nodding they would all stop nodding and everyone would just be motionless.
The plane had reached a height above the ocean. It drained itself of water slowly. The large crane squealed an eerie sound causing all the men the stop nodding and press their fingers harder into their ears. The crane turned and the plane moved over the large boat and was slowly set down in an unsafe fashion. Sparks flew but it eventually settled itself. Once again the nodding began and several men in brown suits went into the plane and removed its contents into a final plastic bin, which was then carted to a helicopter by another brown suited man. The suited men jumped into the chopper and it flew off leaving the nodding and ear plugging crew on the large hideous ship to do whatever else it is they might do. It probably involved nodding and plugging their ears though.
The helicopter landed somewhere in the middle of Hawaii, the plastic bin was unloaded and carted into a white building, and left in an empty room. The helicopter took off once again into the sky, and arrived again exactly twenty four hours later. The brown suited men jumped out, and helped a woman down. She was dressed in all white. Her hair was white. Her eyes were white. She was white. Coincidently they took her into the white building and lead her to the white room with the plastic bin. They waited there, the brown suited men, staring at the all white woman. Until she spoke.
“Leave me.” She waved a hand at them.
They all glanced at each other with smirks, rolling eyes, shaking heads, and twirling their fingers in the air. But they left finally and the woman took a deep breath. She faced the palms of her hands at the floor as she walked toward the packages. She circled the pile of water damaged cardboard, eyes staring upward, her thoughts in an unknown place and inconceivable by another living human being. These thoughts were now not her own and they told her things, where the packages go, what was in them, the potential of the items enclosed.
All crap.
She sighed when she was told how the packages were handled, she was a bit revolted however it wasn’t nearly as bad as some others she had encountered. They were all entirely worthless shipments. Suddenly a strong feeling came over her… she had missed one. One that had fallen outside her circling path around these pointless objects. This one, though not vital, it was important and she smiled. The thoughts told her some things she adored so she agreed with them and took upon the task to deliver this one herself after telling the brown suited men where the rest of the crap goes.
A woman was awakened by the sound of cheery birds, she slowly got out of her bed, picked up her shoes and walked to the open window in her bedroom. She frowned as she threw her shoes into the tree full of birds and they scattered into the sky taking a few leaves from their branches. She shut the window and slowly and pathetically walked back to her bed, closed her eyes and fell into it. Right when she had lost all reality her brain drifted off into dream mode and hers ears shut out the loud what she called, fwupping noise, from outside her house, the doorbell rang and startled her. She jerked up wide eyed with her hair in her face, annoyed she brushed it back with one hand and jumped out of the bed. She tip toed to her window and looked out but couldn’t see who it was on the porch. That stupid tree.
She rushed downstairs with a bit of excitement since the doorbell rarely rang. Who could it be? What do they want? Maybe, she thought, they are just going to return her shoes. Her excitement went away with that thought and she reached out for the doorknob as the bell rang again. Just before she grabbed it she paused in movement. Maybe it’s a salesman, maybe, but that never happens either. So she grabbed the handle turned it and she pulled the door open. At first she was quite alarmed by the look of the woman, but only like seeing a handicapped person with no arms, or a badly scarred burn victim. It was quite obvious though that this woman in white was blind.
“Yes?” She said, clutching her robe and leaning against the door.
The woman in white grinned as she held out the package. “A delivery for you.”
She raised an eyebrow, “For me? From who?”
The woman in white shrugged. “Some guy you know that I don’t know. Normally, I wouldn’t do this, but I thought that I’d like to be a part of it… for spiritual reasons.”
She smirked, took the package and set it down. “Uhm, thanks.”
“Not a problem, not a problem in all the world.” The white woman smiled with a nod and turned away, waving as she walked towards a helicopter in the middle of the street.
Mystified and curious she shut the door and picked up the mangled packaged. She went to the kitchen table, sat down and opened it. A silver metallic box? She examined it and figured out how it opens. A small button which she pressed and it made a hissing noise while steam poured out of the box, she fanned it away with her hand as a small vial revealed itself with a tiny note. The vial was full of white fluid. She was surprised but suddenly overcome with happiness and sorrow. So she read the note.
“Dear Mavis,” read the note, “Though my life ends soon yours can begin. Much sadness on my part that I could not be alive to witness the beauty of childbirth. I can only blame my habits of smoking. By the time you recieve this I’ll be in a coffin at my funeral, or so says the doctor just with nicer words. I know that you have always wanted a child, so I send you my sperm, and I hope that you’ll raise him/her to be as great as you. Many sad days have gone by, and I hope you can forgive me for leaving after learning of my death date. All the love in my body, Jerry. P.S. Do not let him/her smoke.”
Tears filled her eyes but she smiled too. Although she was a little disgusted with the vial, it made her happy. Much happier than the lonely month she had just endured, and the thought of a child brought a bit of joy with feeling of loss but maybe once she saw the little baby, everything would become much more important than how she felt about things right now. She thanked Jerry in her thoughts and told him she loves and forgives him, with all her heart.
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