PROMONTORY POINTERS
Winnie Richman
Leader Correspondent
Cleo and Gary Petit drove to Fillmore, Utah, for the 4th of July weekend beginning Friday morning. They stayed with Cleo’s brother and visited with many other relatives, aunts and cousins. “We had a very good visit,” Cleo says. “I wish we could have stayed longer, but it’s very nice to be home in our own bed.” Cleo and Gary watched the fireworks from the front porch of Cleo’s brother’s home. They returned Sunday afternoon.
Orson Poulsen reports an uneventful weekend. Jeannette drove to Salt Lake City to visit her son, but he wasn’t home. Orson has purchased some implements for his tractor – a scraper and a sickle mower.
Kaye Draper watched several fireworks displays from her apartment complex driveway with several of her friends. She has been calling bingo for several hours this week at her apartment game room. She is also working on her Christmas sequined calendars and has one almost ready to go. She and June Butcher ate dinner and played cards at their sisterin-law, Carolyn Colton’s home Sunday.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Hometown Paper
It's been awhile since I took a look at the ol' hometown paper, and to be honest, the most recent edition has me a little worried. Orson didn't shoot his guns this week. Kaye appears to be sliding into wickedness--she's playing cards and calling bingo. And where in the hell is Jeannette's son? I hope they haven't been Obamatized.
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Those stories are just so wonderful they make me want to make sequined advent calendars, too.
ReplyDeleteTheir story gets more dramatic if you read it as the gothic horror that I suspect it really is:
ReplyDeleteCleo and Gary Petit drove to Fillmore, Utah, for the 4th of July weekend beginning Friday morning, their clothes still covered in blood. They stayed with Cleo’s brother and visited with many other relatives, aunts and cousins, all of whom would not live to see the sunrise. “We had a very good visit,” Cleo says. “I wish we could have stayed longer, but it’s very nice to be home in our own bed, which I intend to light on fire.” Cleo and Gary watched the fireworks from the front porch of Cleo’s brother’s home, careful to not arouse suspicion while the brother moaned in the acid-filled bathtub. They returned Sunday afternoon, leaving behind a large host of dark birds that picked at the still hissing remains, the last signs of a life defeated.
Orson Poulsen reports an uneventful weekend, his tongue having been torn from his mouth by the Mad Rooster, and his eyes were bloodied, covered in film, opaque weeping orbs that have seen their last. Jeannette drove to Salt Lake City to visit her son, but he wasn’t home--she knew where he was, and the thought of it made her fondle her gun all the harder. Orson has purchased some implements for his tractor – a scraper and a sickle mower. Orson is nothing if not prepared for whatever comes down the road, whatever stranger wanders over the fields, whatever lost child with tender limbs might arrive, like a present from a hideous god.
Kaye Draper watched several fireworks displays from her apartment complex driveway with several of her friends, each of whom she drugged. She has been calling bingo for several hours this week at her apartment game room, and cannot see a future that is not proscribed by meaningless boxes and drooling zombies. She is also working on her Christmas sequined calendars and has one almost ready to go. She is this close to shooting the next person who so much as looks at her. She and June Butcher ate dinner and played cards at their sister-in-law, Carolyn Colton’s home Sunday. The tender meat, greasy with its faint memory of life, slid down their throats like the serpent of death itself.
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Wow, MJS' version is better than Stephen King's!
ReplyDeleteBut which one of them makes the best pot of beans?
ReplyDeleteGeneral, Sir:
ReplyDeleteClearly, The Leader needs a new re-write man just to punch things up when they need punching and mjs is, it seems to me, a PERFECT fit. I like The Leader very much. Do they offer a home delivery service like the NY Times? I'd be very interested in their version of "The Weekender" but only if it provided full access to their archives. Also, I thoroughly enjoyed the literary paen entitled "Stanworths’ yard a colorful paradise." The reporter wrote the fuck out of that one, I'll tell you what.
Pinkie swear, I spent the summers in a county that had 30,000 residents -- spread out over a whole county -- and we could have put together a more interesting newspaper than this. General, could you be the only human living among bots?
ReplyDeleteSounds just like some of my relatives on Facebook.
ReplyDelete