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[12] Coding Humans: Dr. Quasar’s Nightmare; 1970 (12/23/20)
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[12 | 1970 (12/23/20)] Download or Read PDF
An unbroken seal twists and cracks.
“Father, it’s been 12-weeks since my last confession.”
Ice cubes clink as they are dropped into a ceramic coffee cup. Liquid then surrounds them, shifting the miniature bergs into equilibrium.
Twist psssssstttttt
A fresh bottle of seltzer is opened then poured atop the liquor. Tiny bubbles fly every which way as the soda mixes in.
“It has been too long, my love. The mere scent of you gives me goosebumps. Come. Sit with me. Let’s pray together.”
James sits down in his rocking chair and sips his cocktail. He uses his top lip to filter the cold liquid through the ice cubes. While swaying back-and-forth, he gets a glimpse of himself in the mirror on the wall across from his chair. Before taking another sip, he raises the cup to himself to say cheers without words.
A few drinks later
Yet again, J.F. finds himself sitting in his rocking chair next to the only window, wondering what has happened to the past months. Everything seemed normal before sipping the alcohol, but now, as the ethanol is absorbed, thoughts come tumbling in. For most, memory is tied to sobriety; for him, it is wrapped up in states of lucid of inebriation.
(That hallway. What is it about that hallway? Am I cursed? How did I end up back in this place? Wasn’t I free? How long have I been here, anyway?)
Knock-Knock-Knock
(Now who could that be? Could it be for me? ‘Must be, you see. You are the only one here, my dear.’ ‘Must be the neighbors. Couldn’t be for me.’)
tap-tap-tap
“I thought I glued that cursed little door-knocker to the wood.” “You did.” “Goddammit.” “Go. Go and get the door. Maybe it is your lucky night.”
The door seems a mile away, even though it is within a 10-foot walk. The desire to get the door is overwhelming, but he struggles to lift himself from the chair. He feels too relaxed to want to move since the alcohol took over.
“Is that fucking skeleton faced bitch again coming after me?” “I don’t think so, friend. How do you know about her anyhow?” “I saw her slip in the snow last week. The snow remover ground her face to pieces. Quite a gruesome sight.” “Ah, yes. The blood sprinkled snow.” “When was the last time you left this building?” “Just earlier, today, right? To get the drink for the night?” “Is that so? Do you remember where it was that you did go?” “To the- the- store down the street. The one I always go to. Riley’s.” “How do you feel?” “I am feeling better. It has been too long since my last confession.” “Shall we find ourselves searching the halls this evening?” “I suppose so. It is about to snow. Do you remember what happens when it snows?” “I do. We can leave.” “Yes. We can leave.” “Where should we go?” “I don’t know. I don’t think we need to go anywhere. Dr. Tripper should be arriving soon. He will be in the lobby around noon.” You mean midnight?” “I do.” “He has taken the key for the ballroom. He intends on using Watson.” “His ax?” “Indeed.” “The ballroom massacre takes place tonight.” “I thought that happened in the 70s?” “What year do you think it is?” “2020” “Ha! My dear lad, you must have been had for I am old enough to be your dad. Go take a look in the mirror you just had.”
Knock-Knock-Knock
“Don’t you think it’s time to answer the door? Don’t you want it to be her?” “She’d never come here on her own. She has been twisted up into a show. The city has changed her. She used to be such a beauty – an innocent, wholesome country girl. Remember her – the first day? No cares about fashion or physique. Just a natural woman in her prime.” “Why don’t you think it would be her? Or could it be her?” “She moved, you see.” “I know, but do you know what year it is?” “2020” “Son. Look in the mirror and see.”
tap-tap-tap
“Godammit. I thought I glued th
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By Jonathan DavidListen to Audiobook
Listen with Closed Captions
Paperback – Hardcover – Kindle – NOOK – Audible
Read Literature
[12 | 1970 (12/23/20)] Download or Read PDF
An unbroken seal twists and cracks.
“Father, it’s been 12-weeks since my last confession.”
Ice cubes clink as they are dropped into a ceramic coffee cup. Liquid then surrounds them, shifting the miniature bergs into equilibrium.
Twist psssssstttttt
A fresh bottle of seltzer is opened then poured atop the liquor. Tiny bubbles fly every which way as the soda mixes in.
“It has been too long, my love. The mere scent of you gives me goosebumps. Come. Sit with me. Let’s pray together.”
James sits down in his rocking chair and sips his cocktail. He uses his top lip to filter the cold liquid through the ice cubes. While swaying back-and-forth, he gets a glimpse of himself in the mirror on the wall across from his chair. Before taking another sip, he raises the cup to himself to say cheers without words.
A few drinks later
Yet again, J.F. finds himself sitting in his rocking chair next to the only window, wondering what has happened to the past months. Everything seemed normal before sipping the alcohol, but now, as the ethanol is absorbed, thoughts come tumbling in. For most, memory is tied to sobriety; for him, it is wrapped up in states of lucid of inebriation.
(That hallway. What is it about that hallway? Am I cursed? How did I end up back in this place? Wasn’t I free? How long have I been here, anyway?)
Knock-Knock-Knock
(Now who could that be? Could it be for me? ‘Must be, you see. You are the only one here, my dear.’ ‘Must be the neighbors. Couldn’t be for me.’)
tap-tap-tap
“I thought I glued that cursed little door-knocker to the wood.” “You did.” “Goddammit.” “Go. Go and get the door. Maybe it is your lucky night.”
The door seems a mile away, even though it is within a 10-foot walk. The desire to get the door is overwhelming, but he struggles to lift himself from the chair. He feels too relaxed to want to move since the alcohol took over.
“Is that fucking skeleton faced bitch again coming after me?” “I don’t think so, friend. How do you know about her anyhow?” “I saw her slip in the snow last week. The snow remover ground her face to pieces. Quite a gruesome sight.” “Ah, yes. The blood sprinkled snow.” “When was the last time you left this building?” “Just earlier, today, right? To get the drink for the night?” “Is that so? Do you remember where it was that you did go?” “To the- the- store down the street. The one I always go to. Riley’s.” “How do you feel?” “I am feeling better. It has been too long since my last confession.” “Shall we find ourselves searching the halls this evening?” “I suppose so. It is about to snow. Do you remember what happens when it snows?” “I do. We can leave.” “Yes. We can leave.” “Where should we go?” “I don’t know. I don’t think we need to go anywhere. Dr. Tripper should be arriving soon. He will be in the lobby around noon.” You mean midnight?” “I do.” “He has taken the key for the ballroom. He intends on using Watson.” “His ax?” “Indeed.” “The ballroom massacre takes place tonight.” “I thought that happened in the 70s?” “What year do you think it is?” “2020” “Ha! My dear lad, you must have been had for I am old enough to be your dad. Go take a look in the mirror you just had.”
Knock-Knock-Knock
“Don’t you think it’s time to answer the door? Don’t you want it to be her?” “She’d never come here on her own. She has been twisted up into a show. The city has changed her. She used to be such a beauty – an innocent, wholesome country girl. Remember her – the first day? No cares about fashion or physique. Just a natural woman in her prime.” “Why don’t you think it would be her? Or could it be her?” “She moved, you see.” “I know, but do you know what year it is?” “2020” “Son. Look in the mirror and see.”
tap-tap-tap
“Godammit. I thought I glued th