[Archive] Stray days

I was thinking that if I had got out of bed, I would have been eaten by mice. Otherwise, if I had remained asleep, I would have been eaten by dogs. I got up, of course, mice are less dangerous than dogs. Anyway, if I had hung in the balance, I would have been devoured by pigs. At that moment, they were terribly starving. I opened the door, but the storm outside made me close it immediately. I went then to search my cosmonaut suit. It took me an hour to find it and then, another hour to put it on. The storm, the flood and the sludge had been just a change of scene and it was the time to gather apples for the pigs’ lunch. A few moments after I fed the pigs and myself and I noticed some intruders. They were actually policemen. I asked them from the very first jump: “What did I do wrong?”

“Nothing,” said one of them, “but you must help us identify a dead body. We’ve just discovered a murder in your village.”

“But I do not know the people of this village, except a few ones. It would beat all creation if the dead man was a friend of mine.”

“You would not lose anything if you take a look.”

“My inner silence was just annihilated. I think this is a huge price that I pay.”

“We are aware of this. Look, I am sorry, but the dead body got a wretched condition. The village mayor called us this morning,” explained one of the policemen. “He told us that there are rumors in the village about someone who has died in his own house, because there was no living sign since long ago, even if the clues show that someone lives there. There are birds and cats in the yard. A woman entered the yard to feed the cats and then said that she felt some kind of a cadaver odor.”

“And why do you think that there was a crime?” I asked, thinking that the village was kind of peaceful around that period.

“You will see.”

“Fine,” I said.

The dogs did not bark at strangers, a fact which surprised me. They looked very suspicious. I locked the gates and I went on a short expedition through the mud with the police officers. One of the policemen asked me: “Why do you wear this outfit?”

“It is an astronaut suit, ” I replied. “I made it. I have never travelled to the outer space, but it is very useful when I am working in the gutter. Now that you are taking me to a place where the corpse flavor dominates the atmosphere, it is easy to understand that the helmet is very helpful. But even so, I think a gas mask would fit my circumstances.”

The dead man’s house was not far away from mine. I went on foot for about ten minutes. We stepped inside the yard and we were welcomed by hens with blank eyes. I saw just a cat sprawling on the stoop, it seemed annoyed by the sound of the rain. I felt the smell of putrefaction in spite of the fact I was wearing an astronaut helmet. We entered the house and got in the small murder room. That man died holding a newspaper in his hands. He was throttled and the police officers said that the crime occurred about three weeks before that moment. So the dead man’s neck got so long that reached a size of one and a half meter, or even more. He had violet ears. The TV was still on, and his head sunk in the articles from the newspaper, being grossly swung. The dead body was partially naked and its facial features were easy to distinguish, but I did not recognize anyone there.

“Probably someone knocked over his house because this room is very messy, but I do not know this guy. Is there anything else that I can do for you?” I asked the cops.

“No. But if you find out something new or hints regarding this case, please inform the village mayor.”

So these bullocks, I mean these jar heads, I mean the cops got me out of my house and then they just sent me home. I assumed that I was living in a crime village. Once I got home, I knew that my dogs will protect me. But then the great war started, it was me against the huge world of nightmares.


“Stray Days” was written in 2012


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