Okay, so I might start putting my "The Walker" stories up here. These short stories are all about Mr. Daniel Goodbye, hence the name, who was renowned for having walked so long that he had learnt everything and now walked in a vast, metaphorical desert. The desert in question is full of monsters, each monster being a manifestation of something greater. The writing style is strange, so bear with me :)
Now in order to think clearly about Daniel Goodbye you have to think clearly on a great deal of very slippery subjects. See, Mr. Goodbye was a man who walked so long and so far that eventually he had learned everything to learn and had seen every flickering sunbeam that may dance on a matchstick.
Understandably, Mr. Goodbye became very tired with the things he saw every day once he had walked to every place on the real and firm world, but perhaps less understandably Mr. Goodbye for these reasons chose to leave the real and firm. Away from paved roads and things which had a form in flesh rather than thought did Mr. Goodbye walk, towards a desert which blurred the lines between thought and flesh and caused splintered hairline cracks to cripple-creep over the skin of understanding.
The sand in the desert was made of whispers, and the wind was a sigh of longing. Every plant was a blossom of a revelation and the stones were shaped of dreams. In this place did Mr. Goodbye walk and walk, seeking something he never knew he wanted, hoping to be surprised and never for a second longer than it'd take a beady-eyed grasshopper to tire of silence did he ever stop being amazed by the imagined dunes and the thoughtful daydream-snakes which sidled through the sand.
However, the desert has ever been a dangerous place to man or beast, though Mr. Goodbye barely fit in either such place. It was only to happen, as one thing does to another, that eventually the predator of the singing sands did trail our Daniel sir. Now, Mr. Goodbye delighted in the tones and murmurs of the singing sands and as such was loathe to leave them, and his confidence in his safety was such that were any similar person to him present they should call him arrogant, foolish or both. However, since no such was present we instead see only Mr. Goodbye smiling as he hears the wind swing the sands into cyclones, and each cyclone emit a song of beautiful sincerity.
Doubt! With it's runny egg eyes and it's plasticine hands it pads over the sand on it's splayed feet and jerks it's chicken legs in time to the singing sands. It was this monster which so hounded our Daniel, though it never drew closer than a stone's throw and it never dared more than a glance at it's prey.
The reason for all this and that was the nature of Doubt. Doubt, tall as a tree and wide as a grin, was a terrible creature indeed. It's shivering hide was streaked with dirt and blood, though it knew not where either had come from. It lived only to hunt those who did not hunt themselves, and it's quaking spine was arrayed with great flechettes and scalpels which rattled gently on each other as great Doubt quaked. The beast stalked and shuddered, all the time wringing it's plasticine hands. Now Mr. Goodbye was a lean and smooth skinned fellow, and his tied and knotted body could contain a certain amount of prowess, true... however, Doubt was a monster and no mere trifle, and Daniel could not hope to conventionally contend with the brute unless he wished to be shipped home wrapped in the letter of condolence which Doubt should surely write. Doubtless.
However, if a one thinks of a fight when a conflict is to occur, then a one is undoubtedly going to find such a fight. Mr. Goodbye was well aware that actual ability was of little or no import in a fighting dance when compared to all the thoughts which may snicker-snack flicker in a skull. As such, although Doubt's fifteen claws of porcelin fragments could easily become a prominent piece in Daniel's life (albeit briefly) there were still ways, means and the possibility for a more satisfying end to the tale.
Now, Doubt was a poor housekeeper to it's cluttered mind; it's thoughts were scattered and torn and it did not think clearly when it wished for lucidity. Furthermore was Doubt easily panicked and often fell into it's own nature when events arose. Mr. Goodbye knew the workings of Doubt as well as he knew his niece, as like all the best of us he had often been clutched by the same devil in his life. Though it must be said that to actually see such a feeling given flesh was quite a horror.
Daniel knew that Doubt was a superstitious creature and that it could only take those who already felt it. As such if Daniel showed no fear in the face of the quivering prescence of the being of Doubt then Doubt itself would begin to question it's actions. Mr. Goodbye would smile to himself at night even as he collected the whispers in the wind in his hands and allowed it to pool inbetween his open hands.
Thoughts are fluid, and as such did the whispers become a water in Mr. Goodbye's hands, dripping onto the singing sands as if his fingers wept words. After three days of collecting whispers did Daniel finally grin a Chesshire Cat smile, and pour the wet whispers into the sand. As with any liquid on sand did the whispers soften the sand into a clay or mud, and though it was made of whispers and daydreams it was still brick red and warm to the touch. With his fingers dug into the clay Mr. Goodbye closed his blinking eyes to the sun and made himself a mask (of sorts) by packing the clay into the creases and crooks of his features.
When every line on his face was unreadable through the mud, when every blink was hidden beneath the layers of clay did Mr. Goodbye know he was safe. With a plan in mind and in motion he waited for thirteen days until the full moon and the new moon were almost sharing the same sky. With these portents so easy to imagine it was inevitable that Doubt would imagine them as if truth, and it became increasingly shaken in it's resolve and nerves as the sun fled across the sky and dived into the horizon to make way. As the beady-eyed moon sailed blithely into the dark haze of the night sky did Doubt pad towards Mr. Goodbye only to find him seated calmly on the ground, his face coated in red clay (hiding his smile which was perhaps more smug than the situation demanded).
Doubt rattled it's knives nervously and it swivelled it's gas mask head from side to side as if a snake charming it's prey or an indecisive slowly shaking his head.
why have you stopped?
i should be chasing...
run, run! you're breaking patterns...
Doubt was shuddering out words inbetween it's breaths, and each syllable was a fear come true and an insecurity revealed. Mr. Goodbye sweat out every bead of doubt from his face, but his mask ensured that his weakness did not show to the insectile mass of Doubt before him.
There are no patterns. Why do you think there's a pattern? Please tell me what pattern there should be.
but i chase.
Do you? But what if you're being chased and have merely deluded yourself?
The great creature Doubt was ashiver with it's own curse, unable to see the fears of Mr. Goodbye beneath his fixed mask of clay. Without confirmation of the weakness of it's prey Doubt was powerless... it shuddered and shaked in confusion and indecision and bent double beneath the weight of it's affliction
i...
after all, you are still running.
Doubt's eyes flickered in the heavy gloom, it's resolve eroded second by second as if a pillar of salt being brushed by boiling waves. Beneath his mask Daniel grinned, for although the eyes of Doubt bored into him like a worm it could do nothing for fear of failure. Daniel rose slowly and watched as the towering Doubt flinched, it's runny egg eyes betraying it's fear, displaying how little confidence it really had.
you have no skin!
That's impossible. You must be wrong. And if you're wrong, how can you believe yourself in the future?
Doubt's eyes interlocked with bars of red and bloodshot prison grates. It's plasticine hands fell still in each other and it's serpentine barbed wire tail curled about it's feet as if to ward off the sibilant sands.
Maybe I should show you a piece of magic.
magic? there is no such thing.
Daniel had a type of magic indeed for the creature Doubt, though I regret to inform you that Mr. Goodbye's tricks are nothing impressive to the reader. Slipping his hand into a pocket he ran his fingers along cold metal and gripped.
Oh there most certainly is.
With a slight flourish Mr. Goodbye flicked his hand and with a snap and a grin he threw a flame into life to dance unsteadily inbetween his thumb and finger.
but... how?
Oh it's very simple really.
See, it's terribly hot here in the desert so the fire is all around. I'm just catching it.
I'm just catching the fire in the wind.
this is a lie...
Really? What makes you so sure?
you're holding a lighter...
So I am. What of it?
i can see it!
Mr. Goodbye slowly settled back into a seat on the sands and fixed Doubt with a steel rod glare. For a moment Doubt stood, quivering, and then Daniel softly spoke three words to issue the kiss of death on the creature Doubt.
Are you sure?
A second passed in silence and the shuddering pupils in the eyes of Doubt contracted. Doubt's form shuddered like a child in the cold wind of November and it's skin ran like rain on a window. With a frenzied shriek did the creature wheel and sprint away, running wherever it could hope to find certainty.
Which was nowhere.
And thus did Mr. Goodbye chase Doubt from view, and as with all monsters so faced it never did raise it's head once more.
Except for when talking to policemen and pretty girls.
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"How like an angel in apprehension,
How like a God in action!
Beauty of the world, paragon of animals!"
Well, that was actually quite good fun :D
Maybe I'll do more soon ^^
Don't worry, the rest of the tributes are on their way ;)
Much love!
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