The cat is the best
thing in the film. Paws thump and
you would understand.
The cat is the best
Weather will be bad
He forecasts for the whole world
& gets in trouble
Marlon leant back into the plane seat. He caught the eye of the woman who was about to sit down next to him and attempted to give her what he meant to be a friendly smile. Her lips twitched in the tiniest hint of a smile as their eyes met and the contact was lost in an instant.
Good, Marlon told himself. He had too much on his mind to engage in small talk. The safety announcements and take-off passed him by without notice. He was surprised when he looked out of the window to see the sea far below them where he had expected the nearby tarmac of the runway. He had been thinking over what the polar bears had told him, struggling to think how he would explain it to Samantha. He would pick up some spaghetti on his way to the lab, after they landed.
A while later, a flight attendant took his dinner order. He ordered a chicken katsu curry and resumed watching the film he had been failing to pay attention to. In it a man was hosing down a car, seemingly oblivious to the ketchup that covered his face. Sun caught the spray from the hose. It didn’t occur to Marlon that it might not be ketchup. He would have found out whether it was or not in the next scene, but he was distracted by the arrival of his food. He lifted the lid and was greeted by a lasagne. It wasn’t even on the menu. He was going to mention it to the flight attendant, but they had already moved on down the aisle. He shrugged and tucked in to his meal. Halfway through, he found a bit of the pasta sticking to the top of his mouth. It ceased to feel very pasta like as he attempted to dislodge it with his tongue. He gave up and pulled it out with his fingers. It was a bit of torn paper. He was holding the second half of something. On it was written “- it takes a dinosaur to know one”. He used his knife and fork to search through the rest of the lasagne, but the other half wasn’t to be found. He had probably swallowed it. He leant back, leaving the now cold and mangled remains of the lasagne.
He wondered what it meant, and who had tampered with his dinner. He looked back at the screen in front of him. The man who had been hosing down the car now had ketchup all over him, and appeared to be running away from a tiny dog that was biting at his heels.
Angela lifted the petri dish to her nose and sniffed. That was definitely where the smell was coming from. The aroma was intoxicating. Saliva filled her mouth and she had to put the dish back down on the work surface to avoid impulsively consuming its contents.
She needed Marlon to be there so she could go ahead with the experiment. He could be trusted to clean up if it all went wrong. But he was off with the polar bears, and there was no knowing when he would be back.
She slid the petri dish under the microscope, as she had many times already that morning. She still couldn’t believe her eyes as she adjusted the focus and the miniscule and perfectly realized jelly mountain came into view. Maybe this time she would see them, like she had the first time. The tiny little people, skiing their not-visible-to-the-naked-eye little socks off down the gelatinous slopes.
The polar bears used spaghetti to illustrate the physics of the thing. Marlon scratched his head. He still wasn’t getting it. But he didn’t want to admit the fact, nor did he want to exasperate the bears. No matter how distinguished they were as scientists, they were still wild beasts. They had already snapped almost a dozen pieces of spaghetti without meaning to during the demonstration. His hand moved to his neck. They looked at him expectantly. He perspired a little despite the cold.
“Maybe you could run that past me, just one more time?”
The magpie had gone AWOL. It had given no response to the cowboy’s call to arms. The scarecrow said he didn’t know where it was. They had had a falling out. An argument about marmite. No, the scarecrow said, it did not involve crumpets. The scarecrow wouldn’t elaborate, so the cowboy turned his attention elsewhere.
He visited the magpie’s nest, climbing high into the tree. There was no sign of recent habitation, just a plastic toy machine gun. The cowboy frowned and looked towards the sun. It glowed red, low down in the sky. It would be dark soon.
The cowboy returned from his holidays intact. He hit up the old members of the band and told them to get their shit together. The scarecrow told his boss at the museum to go suck it and threw his name badge to the ground and left. He returned four minutes later to apologise, having realised that he still needed a day job, and that he actually liked working in the museum. His boss told him not to worry. The scarecrow picked up his name badge from the ground, fixed it in place and returned to his duties.
The cowboy walks into his living room. It is sparse and white. Someone has removed all his furniture. Louise Wener is standing in the far corner staring at him. He slowly backs away into the hall. He closes the door. He remains there, unsure of what to do.
Cowboy shakes his head.
The sky is grey & mumbling.
- Tuesday Morning Prose
I wrote this in twenty minutes because there was a storm last night
I once knew a man who couldn’t keep anything he made using...
- Preview of the New Single
You can have a listen to the first Looper single from the new album on Beats Per Minute today: