|
|
|
The Problem With Thinking Matter 3: Back Home In Layerstown |
| Written by cody brinkman | |
| Sunday, 13 January 2008 | |
The Problem With Thinking Matter 3: Back Home In Layerstown Cody Brinkman
"Did you hear Seymour died the other day?" Said Jeremy Scheck "No I didn't, damn, that's a shame, what did he die from, that disease or something? I told him to get him and his mother outta that city when the whole damn thing started, it's only the cities that got it you know, only had seventy-five people die a week here in Layerstown" Replied Samuel Ellis "No no no, he was attacked by a mob of religious fanatics, haven't you heard about the ongoing riots up there?" Said Jeremy. "I did hear about it but I didn't know they was spreadin' as far as where Seymour lived." Replied Samuel lighting a cigarette. Jeremy lit a cigarette and thought about the riots. They were happening all over in the cities. There was just civil unrest in the small towns. Unlike Samuel, Jeremy knew that seventy-five people dead in just three weeks that the disease arrived, was one hell of a lot of people to kick it. It's not triple digits in each week like some cities, but cities have more people to cough on each other and ****. Jeremy knew that. Jeremy took a large pull off his cigarette, as he exhaled, he quickly sucked the smoke back in, inhaling it again, then exhaling through his nose. "All I can say is that I'm glad those nuts aren't marchin' through here, ‘ MIGHT MAKES RIGHT! MIGHT MAKES RIGHT!' I'm gonna miss old Seymour though, I haven't seen him in fifteen years, since ole Phillip Caulk went to space. Only spoke to him on the phone what, three months ago, told him that those cities were gonna go to hell, I said things ain't too great anywhere, but it won't ever be that bad out here." Samuel said. Jeremy didn't say anything. Once again he knew more than his friend Samuel. There were certainly many devote followers of Olwells cult in Layerstown. A lot of them where just the big talkers, all bark and no bite. But it was just two weeks ago while Jeremy was working when he saw the signs of a militant group. Every day for two weeks the house across the street from the bar he worked at had five cars at it. The same visitors in and out, all dressed very nicely. Then one day a man that looked not so well dressed walked in. He was very distinct because he wore large aviator sunglasses and a blue and orange ski jacket. All the other people to walk into the home had worn nice tailored suits, and drove Mercedes and Lexuses, this man walked. Then one day the only "church of the doctrine of Phillip Caulk" was fire bombed. It probably had about fifteen good standing members. Most people belonged to three theological categories nowadays. One group of people thought there was no ‘ ******* way there's a god'. The other group thought that there may or may not be a god, but if there were they would like to ‘give him a ******* black eye'.The third where devote followers of the semi Jesuit cult of Reverend Patrick Olwells, who will ‘fuckin' kill'ya if you say otherwise'. Anyway. Jeremy was walking home from work and he was a block away from the defunct church,then he saw the man with the aviator sunglasses lead a group of thugs down an alleyway. He made a right to go home and this led him in the opposite direction of the church. He was about a three blocks away from home when he heard the explosion. He stopped and saw the smoke curl in the distance, and heard the siren pick up. He quickened his pace. Then a block away from home he saw one of the black Mercedes from the house across the street from the bar speeding downthe street, in the car was the man with aviators, but he had lost his jacket. The Mercedes had a bumper sticker, it was a hologram of Reverend Olwells, looked at one way it smiled and encouraged you, looked at another way, it scolded and damned you to hell. The following day the papers stated the only evidence at the scene of the crime was an orange and blue ski jacket, and that there were no leads as to who was responsible. The town was unenthusiastic about the tragedy. Jeremy could have reported the owner of the ski jacket, but there was someone else in the speeding Mercedes that day, and it was the Chief of Layerstown County Police. Jeremy dragged his cigarette again. Samuel changed the subject. "Man I gotta quit smoking these damn cancer sticks, they'll be the death of me, you smoke more than me, you outta quit too." He said. This man thought cigarettes where gonna be the death of him, thought Jeremy, ignorance must be bliss. Then he said: "I'll commit suicide one satisfying smoke at a time, thank you." Copyright 2008 cody brinkman |
|
| Last Updated ( Monday, 14 January 2008 ) |
| < Prev | Next > |
|---|
via Email