Surrealism

Madness is all around us.

 

   I was stuck in the bar, which only had a booth. Freaks of nature sat in a big, round table. There was this guy, as alive as a moth on fire, sat beside me without moving. Not even blinking his eyes. A girl, sitting far in front of me, embraced and later, made out with her cat. The atmosphere in the bar sent chills down my spine.

 

   A pole dancer, with a crow head, entertained us greatly. Her naked body was flawless. But there was something that caught my attention, even more attentive than the pole dancer. A young woman, sitting beside the cat-kissing freak, was sleeping, resting her head on the table. She had red hair, like flames, and pale skin. She also had a flower on her hair. She looked normal, comparing with the others in the bar.

 

   The front door of the bar opened, ringing the bell. I turned around to observe, I was the only busybody who actually turned around. The others showed no interest. A muscular man came in. He had a pair of horns and also a tail. I stared, flabbergasted. I rubbed my eyes and observed him the second time, the horns and the tail didn’t vanish.

 

   His feet stomped while he walked. He went to the bartender, who could levitate things, and ordered a double cheese burger and beer. He sat down beside an old man without pupils, only irises, which were grey.  I couldn’t tell what the old man was looking at.

 

   I turned back to the red-headed girl. She wore a beige-coloured dress with flowery patterns on it. Her locks covered her face. I wondered what she looked like. Would she look like Isla Fisher or perhaps, Alyson Hannigan?

 

   The music in the bar flooded my head with grotesque thoughts. The banjo player’s hands were his feet and his feet were his hands. He also got a big smile. It was supposed to look friendly, but it looked more like malice to me. As he played, the pole dancer followed the rhythm. This whole thing made me feel sleepy.

 

   I kept myself awake, or maybe asleep. I sipped my beer. It flowed through my windpipe and into my stomach. It burned inside. It felt so good. I, semi-drunk, stood up and walked slowly towards that young girl. When I reached her, I stroked her hair, smooth. She had no response. I patted her. Still, she had no response. I pulled her shoulder, she easily fell back. I saw her face. She had green eyes, her face tore out. Blood flowing down and her throat, slit opened. She wasn’t sleeping, she was dead.

 

   I was frightened. The freaks looked at me, laughing. It scared my sanity away. They got up, walked towards me, still laughing. They tangled their hands around me and pushed me down. The music kept on playing, even though the banjo player wasn’t playing. They continued laughing and laughing and I lost sight. That’s all I could remember. 

Author's Note

Hope you like this piece.

Reviews

[Rc R. Vagilidad]

seriously, this is some goodread. Kudos, gives me chills, and reminds me of Nightmare Before Christmas :)

[mark slade]

really good. i enjoyed this a lot.

[Ciaran O'Keefe]

Good use of imagery and the odd to create a certain atmosphere. One or two of images were hard to get, and im not sure if this was an intentional thing or the use of language.

[Enigma]

Very nice write. It was interesting and kept you thinking

[Thea]

It was interesting...Neatly done...The structure was good...Great job... :)))