|
Print
This Story
Translate
Contact
Advertisements
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
At another table, an undercover detective is calling attention to his undercoverness by showcasing his prototypical
gumshoe attire, which includes a banana yellow fedora, giant sunglasses, and a banana yellow trenchcoat with pointy
shoulders. He is not investigating the murder of the cashier's late girlfriend, of course, since nobody officially
knows it has occurred except for the cashier. Rather, he is investigating the murder in the painting on the wall.
As he takes bites from his Italian submarine sandwich, he watches the painting out of the corner of his eyes, vigilantly,
yet not so vigilantly that he is in danger of calling attention to himself with his eyes in addition to his attire.
The moment he entered the deli he became so preoccupied with the painting that he failed to notice the bleeding
heart hanging from the cashier's neck.
Sitting two tables over from the undercover detective are a salesman and his secretary. The secretary is a voluptuous
Latino with tremendous breasts and long flaxen hair who the Caucasoid salesman with big hands and a JFK hairdo
is clearly screwing on a regular basis. As they eat their respective egg salad and turkey club sandwiches, they
are talking under their breaths to one another about how conspicuous the undercover detective is being about being
an undercover detective, both with his not-so-covert vigilance as well as his gaudy Dick Tracy outfit. In addition,
they are speculating about the authenticity of the cashier's peculiar necklace-neither of them believes it is real,
but they're always open to new and improved possibilities-and they are smalltalking about the hogwild sex they
are going to have on the salesman's desk when they return to the office. Little do they know that the salesman's
wife will catch them in
the act, kill them both, cut out their hearts and calmly eat them up with a knife and fork while taking sips from
a glass of expensive cabernet sauvignon, delighting in the symbolic nature of the act.
Nobody else is in the deli at this time except for a stranger in the restroom, who is sitting on a toilet reading
a newspaper with great interest and nibbling on a giant dill pickle with a certain amount of relish, and a human-sized
bleeding heart, who is sitting at a table in the middle of the deli reading a newspaper with lobster-like eyeballs
and nibbling on a bleeding heart sandwich with an octopus-like beak. Nobody
notices these figures, however, disconnected as they are from the goings-on of the real world.
|
|
The End
< < Page Back
2004 Index
Page > >
Books by D. Harlan Wilson:
The Kafka Effekt ... Eraserhead
Press
Stranger on the Loose ... Eraserhead
Press
4 Ellipses ... Bizarre Books
Irrealities ... Pulp Bits
For more, visit the Author's Web Site at: www.DHarlanWilson.com
|
