December 13, 2010
Mr. Dapper’s fiction Twitter was resussitated last week with the start of a new project. Driftworld is a novella to be written 140 characters at a time over the course of 2011.
The story so far…
It all began, as these stories so often do, with a young woman who smelled of vanilla and a man who didn’t know his left from his right.
“Is anyone sitting here?” she said, indicating any one of the empty seats at his table in the ghostly quiet cafeteria.
He began to sweat.
He glanced at her out of the furthermost corner of his eye. Her orange hair reminded him of the haystacks in a Monet he’d seen as a student.
He could feel her smiling as she opened her carton fo milk. The tips of his ears flushed at the sound of the plastic straw parting her lips. He wondered why she hadn’t seated herself then realized she patiently awaited his reply.
He said, “These seats are all taken.”
She sat down.
And as she lowered herself onto the hard, red plastic chair, that was when the scent of vanilla wafted over him like a splash of cream. The pupils of his sage grey eyes dilated like nostrils flaring. He made a concerted effort not to notice her bustline or to breathe.
Having failed in his first goal, failure in the second became inevitable and he began to hyperventilate.
She said, “It’s the bomb isn’t it?”
* * *
Follow Mr. Dapper’s Twitter feed for daily* updates or visit the Driftworld page for weekly compliations.
* Mon-Fri, not including the days it doesn’t happen at all.
March 5, 2010
He could feel the germs collecting inside the hollows of his skull. They were multiplying like the gaggle of teenaged girls to his right. An old man now, he was rueful about the lack of a cure for the common cold. And a cure for teenagers too. Fuck science, he thought.
Fuck religion while you’re at it, he added. Jesus nor Mohamed nor Ganesh had prevented his cold. Not that he’d asked them to. Deadbeats.
It was then he felt the heavy pain he knew must be a heart attack. The girls stopped giggling. One of them called 9-1-1 on her cell phone.
As they waited for the paramedics he asked, weakly, “Why?”
She replied with a blunt, tender sincerity, “It’s what God would want me to do.”
Mr. Dapper’s Tweets of Wisdom
February 8, 2010
He drank constantly. Liquids flowed through him like a river snaking through the humid body of a dense tropical rainforest.
He drank milk.
He drank water.
He drank beer and wine and pomegranate juice.
For lunch he drank yogurt and he’d liquefy his evening meals. He even went so far as to buy a small, portable blender which he brought to restaurants and turned cheeseburgers and samosas into smoothies. After years of not eating solid foods, he had his teeth removed by a dentist in Mexico.
While convalescing at a resort, he washed down several crushed codeine pills with tap water and died from the consequential blood infection.
Visit Mr. Dapper’s Twitter for stories told 140 characters per day.