VIOLINESQUE

SUN!

Big, fat, yellow Sun. Spotted, sweaty, sweltering Sun with all its heat currently concentrated on the first seat on the left of the bus, where I am currently sitting.

The shining Sun plays with its shadows and reflections and the general mood of mankind while I gaze at the long, narrow and jam-packed road ahead of me through the dirty windscreen of the bus.

Scumbag Sun.

I see cars in front of me and to my left. I can hear the rest of the human race chattering away behind me. To my right, The Driver plays the bus’ horn. The sound coming from it is violinesque.

HRRRRRH!

The sound of the accelerator being pressed, inertia, and my vertebrae pressing firmly against the backrest. We have begun moving forward.

Aaaaahh…the wind blowing across my face, the violinesque sound of The Driver playing his horn, a black insect flying in front of my face. AN INSECT!

Wasp? Bee?

No.

Does it have a sting?

No.

It may still be harm-HONNNNNK-ful!

The black insect is now on the windscreen, a black figure against the bright blue sky, flapping its blurred wings.

Big, black, chubby insect with two antennae and six legs and two pairs of wings going flap flap flap while The Driver plays his horn like a violin. Big, black, chubby insect, growing larger with each passing second.

Big black chubby insect speaking to me.

What are you staring at, human?

what?

Big, sweaty, chubby human, staring at me.

What?

I shall decapitate you.

WHat?

I shall dismember you.

WHAt?

I shall sit on your forehead and sting you.

WHAT?

and the big HONNNK and black and chubby HONNNK insects fly HONNNNNK toward me

HONNNNNNNNNNNNNNK HONNNK-HONNNK HONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNK!

Brakes being pressed. Inertia. Being jerked forward.

My eyes are open, now.

‘Ei!’ A single syllable: The Driver shouts at a biker who, apparently got in the way. A shouting match commences.

Aaaahh…It IS refreshing to hear someone’s grandmother being insulted.

The shouting match ends.

And we move forward.

Tree, tree, tree, road sign, tree, tree, tree, man urinating on a wall, tree, tree, tree. A skull within a Skull within a SKull within a SKUll within a SKULl within a SKULL.

LAALAA. LALALALA LAALAA. LAALAA. LALALAA   LAALAA…Violinesque music. Actual Violin Music. Figaro!

who is that boy sitting on the front seat of a bus he is big fat and chubby he has a big black and chubby insect on his forehead i think the insect is stinging him and the bus is coming to me and the insect is flying away and the boy has a biggish reddish lump on the forehead

A finger on my shoulder.

Excuse me?

My eyes are open. Yes?

Another human speaks to me.

There’s something wrong with your head.

Excuse me?

Your forehead…

A finger points itself at my forehead.

I look at a reflection of myself in the side-view mirror. A big, red, lump sticks out of my forehead-Tom and Jerry-.

I look out of the window.

A paper bag goes flip flip flip on the road and splash! into a ditch, the violinesque sound of The Driver playing his horn in the background.

FLIP FLIP

FLIP FLIP

I’ll have a narrative, thank you.

Advertisements