9: Globby

outside the library a boy pretends to pour cooking oil over himself with both hands he holds the five liter bottle inverted over his head luckily for him the lid stays in place but luckily for our shard and freud in our imagination the downward pressure of five liters of oil causes the blue plastic security strip to slowly peel away and eventually the cap pops causing a glistening torrent of shiny amber glue to slick in globby waves over his haircut into his eye sockets filling his nasal cavities his ear canals and his mouth all in ultra slow motion behind him a pigeon takes flight to avoid an oncoming motorcycle a single downstroke of its wings plays out over four minutes that's right this scene is shot at 300 000 frames per second and how do i know this you ask well that boy yes that boy was me and that oil well home in a way there are still traces of vegetable lipids in my cerebral capillaries to this very day um i'm wendy and i say ooch mama smiles mama i giggle words for a smile it seems i say other words nervously ping-ponging between a couple goodbye hello hello then smell poop she frowns sniffs my nappy new poop snuggle chops i sit back and rest my legs on the desk and pick up my bunny zippo to relight the dry end of my dampening cigar buying time really then with a cloud of smoke hurtling from my mouth in quick succession i fire off gurnip shadow house wicker audio minifluous recalcitrant her eyes are a glow mouth stretching upwards of the corners clapping like a seal feet stomping with joy ecstatic laughter she's enraptured in a way i've never managed before this is a peak which i must be able to look down on in the near future so i slow down hold back to keep that goal possible double ganga bewitched betwixt show she's quieting awkward in her movements as she regains composure checking her watch and phone to anchor herself distracted by the hum of technology she gets up moving towards the corner of the room eyes glazed forehead pressed against the wall walking on the spot i finish from diary then gesture flicking my finger and thumb so she knows that one was a request oversized crayola in hand i start to write moments later shaking my head i'm staring at the page fuming looking at a senseless two-inch redline scroll that's not what i was thinking damn why do they make these things so absurd yes my snuggles is getting grouchy i roll my eyes but she's right