Blog Archive | Quotes Frantic | C'est What? | The Sodchucker Climbing | Hong Kong | Sydney | Canada Animations | Videos | Photoshops    Subscribe to Mitch's Website RSS

[ Back to archive ]

3:21 AM
Jardine woke suddenly. His bad dream, a complicated, non-sensical mash-up of an old landlord, disturbingly naked aunts, and a wheelbarrow that was constantly breaking down as the beetles closed in, was already fading to forgotten. Rain hammered his bedroom window. He glanced over at the clock on his nightstand, blinking 12:00 --- 12:00 --- 12:00 ... "Shit." It was still night out, time unknown, but he rolled out of bed, got dressed in his best work clothes: Italian brown leather shoes, a shirt with green, purple and brown stripes. He briefly glanced at his jacket lying on the sofa as he walked out into the rain.

3:21 AM
Ross lifted his head from his pillow. A long, shiny strand of drool, clear and perfect, made an effort to restrain his chin. He easily broke free of the slime, whiped his face and sat up. "Fuck." he mumbled, glancing at his watch, noticing the hands lying motionless. He leaned over, vomited yellow in the wastebasket. "Fuck."

3:58 AM
The bumper of an old mustang, no longer attached to the car, but still shiny and mostly perfect, spun wildly through the intersection, slamming into the curb on the opposite side. The amber lights above flashed with a faint "tick, tick, tick" as the mustang it had been knocked from careened off several parked cars, tires wailing, leaving a few other parts of perfectly restored chrome in its wake. Ross pushed the car faster still as he again checked his dead watch. "Fuck," he said, and shut his eyes.

4:21 AM
Jardine sat cross-legged in a lotus position, perfectly still, eyes open but unfocused, naked. His clothes and expensive Italian shoes lay nearby, soaked but neatly folded and stacked. Though it was freezing cold and still pouring rain, he felt nothing. No water touched his skin. In a small radius around him, the ground was perfectly dry. The falling rain, respectful of his presence, was careful to move out of his way as it fell.

4:21 AM
Ross' eyes were closed. His right hand cupped his left hand, both sitting peacefully in his lap. In the foot-well of the mustang, the soles of his bare feet were pressed together, like hands praying. But still the car drove through the night, engine redlining as it sought to perform this task its driver had set out before it. It drove perfectly, or as perfectly as it could, and only when a lone seated figure could be seen in the distance did it falter. A slightly imperfect downshift caused the rear wheels to lose traction for a split second. In that instant Ross' eyes flew open, and suddenly, he was gone, vanished from the driver's seat. The car, now without a driver, coasted into a telephone pole with a loud crash.

4:21 AM
The two faced each other, unmoving. Ross stood soaked, eyes closed, dressed only in faded boxer shorts. Jardine continued to sit motionless, eyes open but unseeing, still perfectly dry. Slowly, at the same time, both men rose into the air, carried by some unseen force. They came to a stop several feet off the ground. The rain fell harder, each drop heavy and fat. Suddenly Ross' eyes opened, Jardine's eyes focused, and the two men looked at each other for the first time that night.

4:49 AM
Jardine finally spoke:
"Nice car."
"Thanks," Ross replied, "nice cock."
"Shutup."

5:00 AM
They faced each other for some time, motionless in the air, until finally, Ross said:
"Well, asshole, I guess we'd better get going."
"Yeah, I guess so."
"Yeah."
Ross looked away, glanced over at the crumpled mustang, a sad look on his face. "I really liked that car."
"I know you did, buddy."

5:02 AM
The air around the two figures suddenly became hazy, and thick, and began to warp and bend in the heat. The rain around them began to hiss as it fell. Soon the rain was evaporating before it could hit the ground. The roadway started to bubble and warp as the tar melted. The temperature around the men continued to rise, but they felt nothing. The paint on the mustang began peeling away, the tires started to burn. Now the buildings nearby started to burn too, and the windows burst. The frame of the car started melting, sagging as it began to glow orange. Ross and Jardine still hovered there, unmoving, as the temperature climbed further still. Ross smiled.
"I can't wait to see Max!" he said, laughing.
"And Mitch." said Jardine, "This is going to be awesome."
"Fuck yes!" said Ross.

And then suddenly, they were gone.

No Sleep Contest 2008 - Mitch, 2007-10-23, 17:15:38 Some additional research into sleep deprivation for you: No sleep makes you crazy?

mmmKay - Tim, 2007-10-29, 17:24:07 http://www.esse.ou.edu/~cwaller/204_mkaymackey.JPG

mitch... - prs, 2007-11-18, 17:15:40 you lazy fuck, update your site!

m, 2007-10-22, 03:21:25 does this literary existentialism mean ross and jardine are gay?

R, 2007-10-22, 06:38:32 gay or not. good story. ill massage your ego about this later, but not over such a public medium.

mdp, 2007-10-22, 08:36:16 Hey Mitch, leave me out of your gay fantasies!