:::nostress::: ...(please?)

Friday, September 10, 2004

MAJOR TOM

SCALP FICTION IN BLUE PLANET PULP

Since the little girl opened the drawer of a small but heavy metal box ,the drawer hit my head.
Out of time we were surrounded by creatures.Depending on the moment their empty looks changed to disgust or refusal.It seemed we arrived on earth,a place who seemed frequently visited.What about this abhorrence in these confused creatures eyes ?
The little girl and I were aware they were looking for a solution to get rid of us,bloodthirsty and rather undevelopped these creatures want to get rid of something,someone all the time to replace all by the most stupid,often superfluous items.
As we shuffled away from the crowd we saw in a mirror that I was half scalped and at the centre
of my forehead the skin was gone and there was a hole.
The confident little girl didn't take notice of my strange outlook,I was astonished 'bout feeling no pain.
Suddenly one of the creatures hissed to uniformed Political Insurance Germs,P I G 's: grab the little girl ! she scalped ! she must be an alien ! arrest the victim too ! she seems ok ! she must be an alien too !
At the same moment a vehicule stopped and someone beckons the little girl and me to get in.
Here and there the driver picks up and drops off again " recognizable someones"who wear all similar red outfits,"The Dynamo Rovers" written on them.
The roads are empty,it gets dark ,the sky turns red and the only sound the driver makes:"we're nearly back,next street is Shiaparelli Road; no need scalps to bleed,we remember even the planet with the two suns,not time but locations that run,earth time runs out,when we've passed the canals the halfdeveloppedbrain-creatures are in the hall,we can't recall,me and Major Tom.