Issue XLV
Concerning MEAT on MEAT, Piotr Szulkin's Apocalypse Tetralogy, & seven more dreams I didn't have...
From the Desk of William Pauley III
Here are the seven dreams I didn’t have this week (in no particular order):
DREAM #1: I’m keeping a record now. Just who the hell do you think you are? What have you done to me? Where I’ve gone is so unclear, but where I am is so understood. And you’re gone. Of course you’re gone. But you’re always in my head, peeking through the blinds. I’ve always wanted to call you mine. Your eyes are never honest, but still… they’re taking me, they’re taking me, just like they always will.
DREAM #2: I almost always fall asleep before her, but nights when I’m awake long after, I listen. She talks to me in her sleep. She tells me things I could never see, could never dream. I run four long fingers through her dark hair, kiss her eyes and smile. Soon after, it’s my turn to go.
DREAM #3: She and I, our minds are at work. Our hands are full of art. We know why we smile. Music fills our hearts. She knows my voice and I know her skin like a doctor knows medicine. I take her in, just as she takes me. And we drink from our glasses until they’re empty.
DREAM #4: My cigar smoke breath whispers no more. Steadily, I twist and bend, perfecting my bullshit design, and yours, since you gave up long ago. We’re just a blur, you and I, a flash of light fading before eyes of billions. Yet somehow we manage to have a good day now and then, but we’re losing.
DREAM #5: And in the night, the air hangs with a certain heaviness and a salty taste that could only ever be reproduced in the heart. The night air is biological, something that can be touched and taken in, though if you do, you will surely dream of death, and a deathdream is no way to live.
DREAM #6: A bird was hanging by a string in my front door this morning. It was still alive, but weak from struggle. It hung there, still—wings outstretched, as if already dead. I cut it loose and it flew away. Hours earlier I was writing about devils and it got me wondering if the two were connected.
DREAM #7: A man with one cold blue eye stopped me while walking down the street today. He never looked at me in our strange moment together. His one blue eye wandered, connecting with the sky. He coughed and said, “fuck you.” He and I are made of the same electric lunar shit. We are all one.
“Miss Steak”
dir. Madcatlady
Last Week / This Week
“Strange Weather” is here! Read it now!
Last week, on Storytime!, in honor of St. Valentine’s Day, we read the closest thing I’ve ever written to a love story. It was about a boy and a bloodsucking VCR he finds at the dump. What? Haven’t had a chance to listen to it yet? No worries! It’ll be available to stream for free for the rest of the weekend. Check it out here.
On this week’s episode, we’ll be reading a cautionary tale concerning injustice, deception, and most importantly… karma. Some things really are too good to be true. Be sure to check out “Cyber Solaris” when it drops on Monday! You won’t want to miss it! Be sure you’re subscribed so you’re notified the moment it goes live:
Check out this excellent reader review of White Fuzz! Thanks, Mary! Pick up a signed copy here.
You know, I’ve been doing this gig for about 20 years now and I’m only just realizing it might be possible to make a living off of these weird little stories. If you enjoy these posts every week, *please* consider a monthly subscription. It’s only $5 and it gives you instant access to the Doom Fiction library. Tons of audiobooks, short stories, exclusive articles, art projects, you name it. All for the price of a cup of coffee! Once I have enough subscribers, I’ll have all the time in the world to create even more weirdness for you. So, save the weird! Become a paid subscriber today!
For an extensive list of exclusive perks for paid subscribers, click the following links:
Oddities Theater
The War of the Worlds: Next Century is a 1981 Polish science fiction film directed by visionary Piotr Szulkin.
Synopsis: The Martians have landed and they're not to be feared! Or at least that's what TV personality Iron Idem has been telling people. Soon after their arrival though, his apartment is ransacked and his wife kidnapped. He's tagged like a wild animal and his nightly scripts are being changed. What Idem's eyes are seeing no longer matches what he tells audiences night after night. Are the Martians as good-natured as he believed, or is he being used in a more sinister plot that endangers the entire planet? (Vinegar Syndrome)
“…a brief moment of total insanity…”
— an interview with William Pauley III —
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to DOOM FICTION to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.