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flash, Horror, Uncategorized

Flash No: yum

c0eab6a62d533d3141edb76330f77d31--surrealism-art-in-a-jar

The Jar-man by C A Middleton © 2014

 

It had been a long time since I’d crossed the threshold of such a garish joint. My coulrophobia and allergies to children gripped my legs. These establishments, in my experience, had their fair share of both.

I could feel the cold carving-knife of fear sawing through my guts long before I stepped with caution across the front entrance.

The doors opened as if by their own volition. That was new. I remember the heavy swing doors. At least they gave the patrons a modicum of exercise.

I crossed into the noisy room within, expecting the doors to clamp shut, trapping me like a fly.

They didn’t.

I then moved on into the snaking queue, with my heart clattering against my ribs. The faces of the clowns daubed across the walls, and the ankle-biters bombing and screeching around the restaurant like hungry vultures set my teeth on edge. Couple it with the obvious psychology involved in the décor and furniture which screamed, “EAT QUICKLY AND FUCK OFF!” and I felt my knees clack together.

I tried to concentrate on the tinny music blaring from the speakers. But it sounded as if Mickey Rooney had one of his balls in a crocodile’s mouth, the other in the hand of a divorce lawyer and was being made to sing trance for his life. It made the marrow of my bones turn to water. The universe must offer less stressful jobs?

And then I saw her. All my anxieties flushed into the floor.

She didn’t look me in the eye as she lugged the stacked tray to the corner of the seating area, squeezed into two seats, and grazed like a furious wildebeest. Processed food and spittle sprang from her chasm of a mouth, spraying children and tables within ten yards of herself.

The manic world around me receded into yesterday’s nightmare. I left the queue and slid into the seat opposite her. She gave no sign of acknowledging my presence. It suited me.

I looked at my pocket-watch and then my notebook.

The time on the snow-white sheet read, 1324 hrs. The time on my watch told me I had 13 seconds to wait.

Opposite me, the enormous beast of what should be a woman took another burger from a closed box marked “Super-sized Big Mike!” and almost swallowed it whole. A fistful of fries followed without a pause and then two more burgers before the first eight seconds were up.

The second burger did the trick.

As if the plastic excuse for food had taken umbrage for being attacked in such a horrific fashion, it lodged in her rubber-fleshed throat.

She tried to cough. Nothing happened.

Pointless panic crossed her piggy eyes.

I watched the scene unfold, knowing the outcome, but still as fascinated.

Her shaking hands reached for a soda. She ripped off the top and poured the icy beverage straight into her gaping mouth.

It was again pointless.

The drink merely welled up behind the second burger, swished for one hellish moment, and then exited all over her tent of a flowery t-shirt.

She tried to call for help. But, with no voice, the children continued to scream and the parents cried behind their smiles.

After a few moments of clasping at the place where her neck should have sat, a look of resignation spread across her face.

She seemed to shrug, before pitching forward to crunch into the table in front of me, scattering the remainder of her food. I’m sure I could hear an audible sigh from the cleaning staff as her gargantuan arms missed the soda as they flopped down onto the table with a dull “duff!”.

I pulled a jar from the folds of my matt-black long coat and readied the way by undoing the metal lid.

From the bent over burger-whale a beautiful girl stood and stretched.

‘I feel so much better!’ She told me, like we’d known each other since kids.

‘You could’ve looked like that on earth,’ I said her with a cold shrug.

‘If I’d known I’d end up like this anyway, what’s the point?’

‘This is..’ I said and took off the lid.

Within the blinking of an eye the power stored in the jar sucked the lady’s new form inside, squealing at the pressure of the reduction. As they all did.

‘You’ll see the point eventually,’ I told her and then ticked her name off my list.

I stood and with a grateful sigh left the clowns, children and plastic excuses of nourishment, shaking the beautiful lady gnat around in the jar.

She screamed as her head bounced around inside.

Next on the list: a rich, privileged politician with a penchant for prepubescent males.

My favourite.

 

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About Chris42

I am a liar! A maker-uper of stories! If this was the 16 (c) I'd be burned as a witch. Fank goodness it is not, eh?! I have four children: two wonderful girls, a fantastic lad and Leeds United. I have no strict genre. I write children's poetry and stories, to edgy, stronger themes. Up until now I have stored them for my own and my family's viewing. Last year i thought bugger it and starred in several short films. One, Playground, which is on the BBC Film Network, used the monologue that I wrote for the audition. You should've seen the face of the receptionist, of the Manchester hotel, where the audition was being held, as I turned up dressed as the psychopath, Gordon. It got the desired effect! I then moved up to Cumbria and wrote and appeared in several live performances on stage. 2012. A local artist, Kayleigh Richardson, commissioned me to write a poem for her to paint a representation. I sent her, The Rise of the Robot Monkey Army. Kayleigh painted a fantastic piece that blew my mind! From that we are collaborating on the Jacob Bear series of stories. Oh and Two's Company is to published, along with seventeen other Sci Fi short stories as part of a collection. Not a bad start to the, so called, last year of the Earth. Now is the time to show the rest of you. I take my themes wherever i see them, whether in reality or dream-world. I hope you enjoy. If not tell me why. If so tell me why. Many thanks and be safe. So far I have published: Jacob Bear's first Christmas,https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B007GK872A (UK) http://www.amazon.com/dp/B007GK872A (USA) Jacob Bear Goes to School https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B007JD3OKY (UK) http://www.amazon.com/dp/B007JD3OKY (USA Jacob's First Words https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B007VZWPSC (UK) & http://www.amazon.com/dp/B007VZWPSC (USA) Space Here https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B007H96M90 (UK) &http://www.amazon.com/dp/B007H96M90#reader_B007H96M90 The Rise of the Sponge Cake Moon https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B007WWZ16M (UK) & http://www.amazon.com/dp/B007WWZ16M (USA) © Madstoffa, 2012. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited.

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© C.p.Singleton, 2012. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Don't make me have to take the shirt off your whipped back if you break the rules! I will you know! Us writing folk work hard to make rubbish up for you to enjoy, so don't abuse or you lose! Tha's right!

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