I like to make up stories. Some people like them, some people don’t. Please enjoy.
The Witch and the Locket
Deeds was determined to make it over the southern wall of the island before the sun was under the water and darkness claimed the sky. She had been in the tropical belt for weeks, following folk tales of a woman who was said to have a treasure that would raise the dead. Many said she was nothing more than a lonely old hag in a mud hut along the shores of the beach. Others swore on her magic, saying they watched as the waves brought back the ones they lost. She knew that beyond the great wall of rocks on the island is where the so-called “witch” could be found.
Lawson sat in the shadows in the back of the billiard hall, as he did at the very same time, every Thursday night. The snapping crack of pool balls harmonized with the laughter and clinking of glassware echoing throughout the large room. Men and women all around him socialized jovially and talked about their weeks at work, their favorite beer flavors, and whatever bullshit they used to kill the sadness inside of themselves. Lawson used to be like them. Finish out a long week at the factory with a weekend full of debauchery he pretended made him happy. Until finally, one day he realized, happiness was a lie. No one human in the world was allowed but small pieces of it, handed down in mystic fragments. Only meant to be deciphered once a lesson is learned and the moment has passed by, cherished as the memory of a time squandered and lost.
The front of the disc says Bach. I have no idea what the word means, but the sound that’s stored in the shiny plastic is otherworldly. At first I thought maybe it was just the thrill that was making the music so sweet in my ears. But the more I listened the more I understood, the more I knew. And with each passing note I cared less and less whether they found me and, secretly, I think I want them to. What better way to die than by listening to this thing called Bach? After the many hours I’ve been sitting here, listening to this disc over and over, it’s plain to see why the machines banned the music when they took over. Why it’s penalized by only one punishment, which, of course, is death.