Tasty Tidbit – October 12/10

Zombie Shadow

October 12/10

What’s better, or better yet, what’s worse? A talking cloud; or a talking shadow? Either way, I am seriously in the thick of something that I have no comprehension of.

I don’t know what day it is anymore. I don’t know how long I’ve remained here, between these two. Is it possible that I’ve been here for days, months, years? I fail to see how that would be possible, yet that’s precisely how it feels. I’m positive, that if I ask one, or even both, of them, they’ll just say something glib and sanguine, like “yes” or something equally absurdist.

I have to find a way past these two, and that’s all there is to it.

“So, little one; have you decided who’s won?” That would be Cloud, he’s awfully loud.

“Better yet, my friend, have you discovered the end?” And that would be Shadow’s voice of silence, always with a hint of violence.

“And, just for the record, what the hell is it with these two always rhyming?” Oh, that would be me, yelling, apparently. As I look from one to the other, I glare, obviously expressing a great deal of disdain and disregard.

“Me? Rhyme? Well, most of the time.” If a cloud could smile, he certainly would.

“I know not of what you speak, little mouse, did you squeak?” And if a shadow could look coy and obtuse, then Shadow likewise, certainly would.

“Alright, look. I’ve had enough of this rigmarole. Could either of you, in plain English, explain to me, what exactly is going on here? I mean, in simple words; preferably with just one or two syllables, maybe even in straightforward sentences. Would that be possible?” Expectantly, I wait to hear what they have to say.

“Well, we can give you a little, but certainly not a lot. We can’t stop talking the way that we do, it’s all that we’ve got.”

“Certes, he is correct, as it is not my want to admit; as annoying as he is, he’s not a complete twit.”

“OK, then, why don’t we start there? What can you tell me?” I’m going sit in the sand for a moment, or two. Maybe something they’ll say will make sense.

“Do you know who you are? From whence did you arrive, from how far?”

“Can you remember anything at all, even the simplest trek or fall?”

“Do you know how long you’ve been here wondering alone? Are you looking for blood, water, or bone?”

“Whoa, whoa, wait a second, wait a second. This is too fast. What do you mean, can I remember who I am; of course I can, I’m, I’m …” They were talking so fast, throwing questions at me rapidly, but, now I can see, they’re correct.

“I’m … I’m not sure. I don’t understand. Why can’t I remember my name? Where I’m from, how I got here? And why has it taken me so long to figure that out? And why do I accept you two so easily?” I am really confused now. I’m fairly certain, that if I really knew who I was, I would look at this tableau in a completely different light.

“Correctly you speak, little one from afar. Your confusion is clear, even bottled in this jar. Your life is not your own, this moment, I fear. Trapped as you are, between now and then, oh dear!”

“Never mind this, ponce, child of Man; I have faith in you, you’ll get it, I’m sure that you can. Questions a plenty, you doubt need to ask and have answered, in this place, however, you are likely to become cankered.”

“Sensibility, from this overweening air bag you have just heard, regurgitating the truth wrapped up in bright coloured words. Selling it cheap, this journey you must complete, deftly weaved, a meal fulfilling, replete.”

“So, let me get this straight. I won’t get straight answers out of you two. And somehow I’m on a journey, but I have to go it, without having any information, and without knowing who I am? Correct?” Both Shadow and Cloud, just nodded, or as much of a facsimile as I imagine they were able to muster.

So, there I am again. Standing in front of the crossroad of several paths, and two unlikely guides to either bare witness or gobble up my failure. Lucky me.

“All right; let’s pick this path!”

“Hurrah! Ku kah!”

“Huzzah! Boom bah!”

About ZombieZak

I am the night zombie! I am he who rides the winds of Doom, he who chases after cookies and bubbles!
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