DARK SKIES

     Darren watched his wife dress for Tennis and immediately knew that they would not have dinner with the Foreman’s tonight. After twenty years, he was still attracted to Lois. She hadn't aged much, even in her fifties. He stroked her short blond hair and kissed her neck. She turned to him and brushed him off.

“Darren! Knock it off! I'm going to be late, and you know how Mildred feels about tardiness.” She rose from the bed and slipped her short white Tennis skirt over her plump hips.

Darren touched her back with a finger, tracing her backbone. She wiggled away from him. She rushed to find her shoes.

“I'm off dear,” Lois grabbed her racquet and bag. “Will you be okay, lunch and all?”

“Of course,” He layed on the bed, tensed up. “I'm not a child. I can do things for myself.”

“Good. I'll see you in a few hours.” Lois exited the bedroom in three long strides, Darren chased after her.

“Lois, oh, Lois!” He called out in a panic.

She turned to him, nearly braining Darren with her racquet. “What, dear?”

“Let's stay in tonight....eh?” He raised his eyebrows, winked.

She stared at him stone faced, Darren repeated the actions a few more times.

“Is that all you think about"sex?” She went to the door, Darren grabbed her shoulder. “Darren, tonight I have a sneaky suspicion you will be taking a cold shower and I will have a headache. See you later.”

“Wait---” The door was slammed in his face, almost catching his nose. “It's not much to ask for.....really.”

Just then Darren heard something like a loud crackle., a pop. He thought it was one of those noisy jets cutting across the sky which is the norm around that area. He rushed to the window. Something definitely was slashing already darkened skies. Moving faster than anything he'd ever seen, it was leaving a trail of pink, green, and orange fire behind it. And when it fell, it shook his house and Ron Gorman's . Gorman lived side by side, so close, you couldn't squeeze a penny between the two. Darren also couldn't help watch Gorman's wife dress and undress from time to time.

Darren rushed outside. He met Gorman in the backyard. There was a hole in the ground just sitting on both yards, the hole as deep as a swimming pool. It looked like black pepper surrounded the hole, only the specks were glowing a little. The sky cleared up, bright sunshine came through dark clouds and the blue pallet returned.

“Weird,” Gorman rubbed his huge belly with a hand, then ran than hand through a thick helmet-shaped hair well styled with loads of hairspray. “I guess it was a comet of sort.”

Darren sighed. He shook his head. “All those years, going into space and dropping off all that damn trash.....Where is everybody? Didn't anybody else see this thing fall?”

“Trash?” Gorman challenged Darren. It was how all their conversations began and Darren hated that about Gorman, and that silly hair of his. “They really dumped trash out in space? The rest of the neighborhood went to that Greek festival, I think.”

“Didn't I just say that?”

“Yeah but I don't believe it.”

“You better believe it. You think your government is nice and pristine.”

Gorman snarled. “Some one has to support the country.” Gorman picked up a shovel that had been laying beside a now defunct rose bush.

The specks of orange surrounding the hole began to sizzle, the dirt turned smoke.

“You mean a country that makes sure fat cats like you get all the benefits and the small guy gets a happy meal and a bus ride to his minimum wage job.” Darren said intensely. Gorman raised the shovel and swung at Darren, barely missing him. “What are you doing? Are you crazy?”

“I can't stand you liberal panty-wearing shitheel! You turn everything good into a decrepit spin cycle to your own liking! I don't want to hear how bad things are because we are terrible people for working hard for what we have---” He swung again and caught Darren across the the bridge of his nose. Blood spurted out, ran down to his mouth, covering his chin. Darren fell hard on his back. He lay there trying to get his senses right, vision slightly blurred.

Gorman swung again, Darren rolled to the right, the shovel drove deep into the ground. “Look, Gorman, I'm sorry I upset you--”

“Screw you! Your a fat cat, too! You pinko! You live in this neighborhood with the rest of us so-called Robber-barons!” He came down again, the shovel sliced away flesh from Darren's left arm. Darren screamed out, a shrill cry that caused the birds in a nearby tree to take flight. Darren curled both legs in the air and kicked Gorman in the stomach.

Gorman dropped the shovel and fell to his knees. He began crying. “I don't know what's gotten into me.....” He sobbed.

Darren picked up the shovel. He stood behind Gorman, raised the shovel and swung like he was hitting a baseball. “I know what's coming off!” The shovel cut right through Gorman's neck, his head fell to the ground and rolled into the hole. Gorman's body was still sitting there teetering one to the other. Darren kicked him and Gorman too fell in the hole.

“Darren?” He heard Lois call out. She came out the backdoor. “You know I've been calling for you---the game has been canceled"no one showed up"what the hell happened here?”

She walked past Darren and approached the hole slowly.

“Just a meteorite of some kind, dear.” Darren said, gripping the handle of the shovel.

“Strange,” She said. “Hey it looks like George Washington.....” She looked further. “There's something else down there--” Her eyes became wild and her mouth formed an O, but Lois choked on her scream.

“You have always been a selfish b***h....” Darren lift the shovel high above him and came down hard on Lois' head. It split open like a over ripe melon.

The specks around the Meteorite hole lit up and glowed like a Brite-lite game. The ground sizzled and the specks turned into an orange ooze that spread quickly to Darren's feet. It enveloped his body and soon Darren had become a walking, glowing light fixture, walking across the lawn to the next house, still holding the blood stained shovel in his hands.

Author's Note

FOR SURREAL-ZINE CONTEST

Reviews

[Pierre Roy]

Talk about being surreal, It's gripping, Besides from a few grammar errors which can be easily fixed, I like your story. It is dark and gruesome. It would be good to know what comes next with this character. Hope you will continue on this one. It would be interesting to see what happens next.

[cartera]

Lots of anger in here. Ain't no pit deep enough. Funny how it looks like George Washington; I'll need another look at him Crossing the Tupperware to check that out.
I think you are quite wise to use writing as the vehicle for your anger.
ATB
Alex.

[Nimbus Thread]

You've captured the psychosis of suburbia with a dash of satire. Well done.

And thank you for submitting to SPACE JUNK the contest!

[KAOlmsted]

...what? Okay, again, despite a few grammatical errors, this is a pretty well written piece. I'm not sure how "surreal" it is, though. A meteorite falls to the earth and causes a man to go on a murderous rampage. Sure, I could see that ;-) But, as a conservative, and a woman with a history of developing "headaches", I am deeply offended that the fat-cat and the wife got the first cuts. (lmao) I hope the magazine acknowledged your work :-)

[Raven Starhawk]

I think I could live forever among dark skies. They will hide much although never let anything else in. I wandered about your story and loved every detail. It was such a reward.

[roarke]

Panspermia gone wild meets girls gone wild.... fat cat suburbanites their debauchery unleashed, plowshares turned into murderous shovels..... who need a claymore?
The sucking black hole of hypocrisy and avarice. Themes any private school drop out could understand...hahahaaha
Yer so twisted you make curly fries look linear....
good luck on the contest, make the other contestants eat orange meteorite....