watching old videotapes

when i was younger i was a wolfboy. it’s hard being a wolfboy when other children are made of meat.

my parents (who, incidentally, were not wolf people) would warn me, “sebastian, you must never eat other children”.

i tried to reach a compromise with them. “just a nibble?” i asked.

“no,” they insisted “the townspeople would kill you, or worse”.

so for the first fourteen years of my life i went without a meal or snack. i got very thin in this time and was forced to make more and more notches on my belt. but, like any other child, by the time i reached adolescence i wanted to experiment. that’s when the trouble began.

on one september afternoon tom bradley, the class snitch, walked up to our teacher, mrs applebaum and whined, “teacher, sebastian, bit my arm off and ate it”.

mrs applebaum, who was sitting at her desk, looked up from the papers she was marking and surveyed the boy’s limbless right side, “oh yes…i can see that. well, this won’t do at all. sebastian, come up here.”

i left my desk and walked to the front of the classroom, head down, watching the little trail of blood drops i was leaving behind.

“did you bite off tom’s arm and eat it?” asked mrs applebaum.

“yes teacher,” i admitted, barely looking up and entirely avoiding her eyes.

“sebastian, you know you mustn’t do this…..and you know what the law says i have to do with you.” spoke mrs applebaum, earnestly.

“yes, i know teacher. you’re supposed to boil me alive in a pot of honey.”

“that’s right,” said the teacher with a heavy sigh. “i’m afraid i’m going to have to start heating the honey now unless you can give me a good explanation for why you did this.”

i had figured out the truth long ago but i’d kept it to myself. i was a shy sort of child and i wasn’t the kind to engage in lively debates or collaborations. but i knew this speech off by heart and, more to the point, i knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that i was right. so i plucked up my courage and began.

“teacher, were you ever a wolfgirl?” i asked, already knowing the answer.

“well, no” said mrs applebaum, somewhat surprised, “of course not. i was a normal girl. i played with dolls and dreamt of warm chocolate sundaes. i knew nothing of eating other children.”

“then you can’t possibly know what it’s been like for me” i said clearly and calmly, “all my life people have told me i’m a viscous animal. ever since i left the womb i’ve been told that my teeth were made for cutting flesh and my paws were made for breaking bones. don’t you see? i never stood a chance. if only people had shown me kindness and love, i wouldn’t be like this. if only people had told me ‘sebastian, you can be whoever you want to be’ then i wouldn’t have bitten off tom’s arm this afternoon and eaten it. people like you have turned me into this.”

she didn’t understand. and the townspeople who came after me with knives and pistols didn’t understand. so i left and won’t ever go back.

don’t do that

this (above) is claudette. claudette resembles a seagull and sits atop a rock on something that looks not unlike the ocean. but it is important to remember that claudette is not a seagull. and the rock that she sits atop does not protrude out of the ocean. claudette is just a simple souvenir, bought from a busy shop in a tourist resort. and the blue that surrounds her is merely a blue fabric. now that you know claudette only resembles a living creature and her surroundings only resemble water, let me tell you something about her.

claudette understands that life is principally a series of moments in which anything could happen but something rarely does. as a result she worries about neither love nor religion. it’s not that she’s hostile towards love or opposed to a world view that includes a notion of a passive or active deity or deities. she just hasn’t put much thought into either. instead, claudette lives a simple life dedicated to art and polygamy.

it just so happened that one day, whilst leaving the studio of her eighteenth lover, claudette happened upon a curious abandoned house covered in vines, a house that she wished to visit. this posed a problem for claudette because, you see, she had just started using a new conditioner that has been known to drive plants and trees wild. cautiously, claudette began to approach the house but, just as her outstretched wing reached for the doorbell, one thin vine wrapped itself around her ankle.

‘excuse me’ claudette said politely (for claudette had always been told to be kind to others).

‘oh, you can talk?’ answered the vine

‘yes’ replied claudette, somewhat perplexed, ‘of course i can talk’.

‘i apologise’ said the vine, quickly withdrawing from her ankle ‘i mistook you for a tree.’

‘a tree?’ claudette asked, now even more perplexed.

‘yes, you smell just like one’

‘i see’ claudette said (she had no idea that the conditioner was pine-scented on account of her terrible sense of smell) ‘…well no damage has been done. goodbye’. she turned to the door once more.

‘oh please don’t go’ said the vine, sadly, ‘you may not be a tree but perhaps you could help me.’

‘of course, what’s wrong little vine?’

‘well this house is crumbling’ the vine said

indeed, the house was in disrepair. it had been abandoned by people 42 years ago. humans have a tendency to let useful things go to waste while they formulate bird conditioner.

claudette surveyed the building, ‘i can see that’ she observed.

‘soon the house will collapse and i will die’ the vine lamented.

‘oh no. i am sorry to hear that’ uttered claudette, sincerely.

‘this is why i need your help. perhaps you could become my new building, my new bedrock on which i can climb and thrive. of course, you must know that if you agree to do this, you can never again fly away for as long as i live. you see, i need soil to plant my roots in. so i cannot fly in the sky or walk the earth like you. but, claudette, you’re my one hope.’ upon ending his plea, the vine felt that it was hopeless. who would agree to such a thing?

claudette pondered the vine’s request for several moments. she longed always to fly. it was her greatest joy, her greatest source of satisfaction. yet she possessed an unfaltering kindness too, instilled in her by all the misery she had seen on land, sea and shore.

‘okay’ she finally replied, ‘i will do this for you, vine’.

‘you will?!’ the vine said excitedly ‘oh thank you bird!’

without a moments pause, the vine crept its way along the body of the figure that resembled a gull, wrapping itself along claudette’s legs, wings, neck and head.

in the last two and a half years claudette has not moved from that spot, where she still supports the little vine. and through the long days, long months and seasons, claudette nourishes herself by feeding on the people who wander past, mistaking her for a real seagull.