Talk, Talk, Talk
A man found a
strange metal house in the Bush. The door was hanging open and the
house seemed deserted. He called, but no one answered. Eventually,
curiosity made him step inside. When he did, he almost jumped right
back out again, because the floor mat said “You are trespassing!
Leave at once.” But just then a picture on the wall said “Maybe
he knows what happened to the Master. You stay right here!” The
monster in the picture scowled right at the man standing in the
doorway and he was afraid to run. “The Master! What have you done
with him?” an urn on a table shouted. “I did nothing,” the man
protested, but his voice trailed off. He looked around the inside of
the house and realized it was bigger than the outside. Almost
nothing in it was familiar. He stepped in, drawn by glittering
mystery. He ignored the chorus of questions and imprecations that
came from every side. He leaned his spear against the wall to pick
up a bottle the color of the sea. “Hey! You scratched me,” the
wall brayed. He dropped the bottle. A pungent odor reached his
nostrils, the ceiling screamed like a hare, and the floor mat shouted
“Run! Nano-seed! Run!” This was too much -- the man took to
his heels. “Goodbye to all this,” the door mumbled dissolutely.
Publ. Daily Cabal 2007
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