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Home » Archives » December 2005 » a phone call in the dark

[Previous entry: "True Love"] [Next entry: "Mulholland Drive (a return)"]

12/11/2005: "a phone call in the dark"

music: The Sorceror's Apprentice by Dukas
mood: mystifying

I was sitting in the dark. My notebook sat open in front of me, but the sun had set hours ago, and I had not bothered to get up and turn on the light. David Lynch's head was humming a vaguely familiar bit of music, but I couldn't recall its name.
"It's "The Sorceror's Apprentice'," the head told me. I shuddered. Had he said that to show off his taste in music, or could he read my mind? The thought of that dead thing prowling through the deepest recesses of my mind horrified me.
"There's no need to be scared, Tommy."
I pulled on my shirt and cringed. Laughter came from undead lips. Before anything else to destroy my sense of self occurred, the phone rang.
Dead David asked, "Should I get that?"
"Very funny," I said. I reached for the nearby phone.
"Is Tom there?" a female voice asked me.
"This is Tom. May I help you?"
"This is Alanidondra," she answered. I gulped.
"But you were a dream."
"Thank you," she said. "That's the nicest thing anyone ever said to me."
"Would you like to come over?"
"I'm busy tonight. I just called because of that cruel thing the Frenchman did to you. He can be such a bastard."
"He's tempermental."
"Quit being diplomatic. He's a bastard. Say it."
"He's not the worst guy ever. I respect him a great deal." I reached my hand in my shirt, and touched
a nipple. I wanted to agree with her, but I felt as if my words were not my own. "In fact, he's a very important part of my life."
She sighed. "He humiliated you. Now stand up."
I stood.
She chuckled. "Now unzip your pants, and hop around in a circle."
"No," I said. "I refuse." Meanwhile, my zipper went down.

Laughter came from dry, dead lips, but my sweet Alanidondra was sympathetic. "You must feel like crying right about now," she said.
"No," I lied. Tears welled up in my eyes, but they did not fall as I hopped in a circle and my pants began to slide down my legs. As my pants hit the floor, the phone cord was wrapped tightly around me.
"Let those tears fall, my insane sweetheart," she demanded softly. "Turn on the lights and let the tears fall."
I hopped over to a nearby wall switch, tears falling as the lights came on. "How did you know I was in the dark?" I asked.
The room was filled with laughter, and I turned to see the Frenchman, the cast and crew from my dream. "You've been in the dark for years," she said. "That's why the Frenchman has you, right where you can never be free."
"No, I can be free, I can," I protested, but more laughter was the response from my audience.
"What a wonderful lie," she said. "Now put your hands on your cock, and whistle."
She hung up as I whistled, my hands wrapped around my growing penis. Everyone clapped, and I managed to smile.
"I'm going to kill you, Frenchy."

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