So hopefully mailchimp didn’t crap out on me and you’ve all got your copies of Ladies Close Your Eyes now and you’re looking at this post like ‘Why the fuck do I need this shit, I’ve got my own free copy of this crap, gtfo of her with this jive. To which I say ‘ok son, chill the fuck out’.
If you have your copies and you’re enjoying them, cool, let me know in the comments if not also let me know. I plan to send them all out again anyway just to pick up the stragglers or in case mailchimp fucked me somehow and didn’t send them all for whatever reason.
And if you’re reading this and you haven’t signed up to my mailing list and you have no idea what I’m talking about, or you have pop ups blocked, join my mailing list and you will get a free ebook. Which free ebook, the one of which there is an excerpt of it below.
I did put a tab up just for people with that pesky pop up blocking technologies my dudes. So hopefully that works, if not fuck me right? Fucking technology, the interwebs, I just want to write shit dog, bring back the fucking type writer my dudes, come on.
Ok so enough of that shit, hit me up, tell me how you’re feeling, make me feel alive, choke me daddy… too far? Yeah that was too far.
Peace out, here it is. folks.
“How much is that doggie in the window (arf, arf)-
-I do hope that doggie’s for sale”
The man was crouched next to him and stood with an audible knee crack. He groaned and patted James on the head. “I’m sorry I had to hit you, but it was the only way. You’re very sick James, you’ve done terrible things.”
The man walked around James, cocooned as he was in the chair, in the dark box. He stood in front of him, he wore a clear mask and a white smock which covered all of his clothes. An unnecessary precaution in such a darkened room. He spoke softly “I’m here to help you James. You do want help, don’t you?”
James felt like he’d been buried. It was warm and seemed hard to breathe, he couldn’t talk, he couldn’t think of anything to say.
“You called me, don’t you remember?” The man stood silently for a moment, waiting for a response that wouldn’t come. “You don’t believe me, do you? I can prove it to you.”
“I must take a trip to California-
-And leave my poor sweetheart alone”
“Let me just turn this off.” The man scurried behind James there was a screeching noise as he lifted the needle off the record. Then a squeaky noise around James’ right side as the man struggled with something. It was an old TV and VCR on a wheeled shelf like the ones they use to have in elementary schools until DVD was a thing.
He wheeled it around until it was lined up with James’s chair and he could clearly see the screen. He fumbled in the dark for a second trying to find the extension and when he plugged it in the static was deafening for a moment. “Oh I’m sorry” He said as he reached for the remote on the bottom shelf just above the VCR. He turned it down and said “Now is everybody sitting comfortably?” He pressed play and James eyes widened as an image emerged from the static. It was a woman, but to his relief, it was a blonde anchor-woman reading the news.
“This is KCRA 3 News with Kristi Summers. In local news, a shocking series of seemingly random murders along West Capitol Avenue rocks West Sacramento”.
A young girl’s face was super imposed onto the screen. The girl had mousey brown hair and smiled sweetly. It looked like a prom photo, her hair was all done up and it was over-exposed.
“A waitress named Becki Clarke was strangled in her place of work, a diner along west capitol avenue.” She was found in the bathroom of the diner. Along with two co-workers who had also been brutally murdered in what police are calling an ‘unprovoked spree killing’.
“Another man, Howard Blum the owner and operator of a local motel. Was also found mysteriously murdered in another seemingly unrelated and random act of violence. Mr Blum- “A picture of the old man from the motel was also super-imposed onto the screen. He was a few years younger, standing topless next to a creek holding up a large fish with his dog at his side. “- the seventy-year-old motel owner was found dead in the office of the motel. The motel also located on West Capitol avenue only a stone throw away from the diner homicides.” The picture of the old man faded and the anchor-woman appeared again in her blue blazer and her over starched hair. “Police are yet to comment on whether the murders are at all related. But witnesses spotted an unusual man who may have been in a minor car accident leaving the diner around the time of the murders.” He shut the tape off and let the TV fall back into quiet static.
The man leant forward so James could smell his breath. It was a sickly-sweet smell.
“You see now; you remember them, don’t you? You’re a monster, you must be stopped” The man sighed as he wheeled the TV back behind James’ head. “It’s my fault, the human mind is a delicate thing, it’s not an exact science what I do. But I’m learning.”
He came back around James’ front as if it was a stage and he was putting on a personal in box performance of Hamlet.
“I’m going to tell you a story, two stories in fact. One may be a lie and one may be truth” He paused and scratched his chin theatrically. “Or both may be the truth and both may be lies. It’s often the case with lies to have some semblance of the truth. As it is the case of truth to be smattered with lies and half-truths, lies of omission and outright fabrications.” He got a little closer. “As you should know by now, memory is not as reliable as a VHS tape” He breathed out. “It’s more like a mirror. A mirror that’s broken over and over and each time you try to piece it together it comes together in a different order. Or there are pieces missing. Or there are even pieces added that shouldn’t be there at all.” He got quiet for a moment before adding “You have to admit; mirrors are more fun than television.”
He stepped to the side briefly watching James’s eyes as he glanced behind the man. “Oh of course, you want to see under this tarp, don’t you? I’m sorry, I can’t do that, not yet, we’re not quite ready.” He turned back to the strange misshapen thing hanging on the back wall. “She has dyed her hair red for you and she is patient, you should be too.”