Anthology Complex Read Online Free PDF Page B
Author: M.B. Julien
your life in solitude. Bark, bark,
bark. Now I want to kill the dogs. Stop barking. Lynne says goodbye to me, and
she goes inside the building with Claire and her dog. The barking stops. I look
at Lynne's work in progress and then leave.
The entire way to the hospital, on that dirty bus, I can't help but
think if animals have souls. A lot of people say the difference between people
and animals is that a person knows the difference between right and wrong. That
people have a working moral compass. That people have a certain unexplainable
bond with other life forms. But what about the dog that lays there next to its
dead master, laying there with those eyes that want to cry. Laying there sad,
and when it sees the person who killed its master, it begins to bark
uncontrollably.
What about the goat and the horse that reside on the same farm who begin
to go every where with each other, and begin to care for each other, so much
that when one is sick the other stays by its side. What about the humans who
hunt other humans. The sociopaths who kill for fun, for sport. The serial
killers who show no remorse. What about the humans who strive to benefit
financially off of wars that are unnecessary. Do they have any more of a soul
than that dog, or that goat, or that horse?
I get to the hospital, and then to Joe's room and I sit on the chair. I
think to myself, what's the point of this. It's not therapeutic for Joe. It
does nothing for me. But still I sit, hoping that he will wake up so I don't
have to come back here. I guess the only real reason I do it is because no one
else has come to visit him.
How would it look if a man was never visited by anyone throughout the
entire duration of his hospitalization. At least when he wakes up, if he wakes
up, he will owe me.
After a while I begin to remember the dream that I couldn't remember.
Something happened to me and I went to Lynne for advice. She was able to
comfort me, to help me with this problem I had. This internal struggle that
keeps me prisoner. It was this strong woman in a tiny body. This woman who
tells jokes and gives life to plants even thought a part of her has been taken
away, she guides me through this dark hallway with her slight limp and her
bright yellow dress.
Chapter 10:
A GENETIC PEACE
Last evening, I had a dream. There's so much sand, and the Sun is so
hot. So yellow. I'm walking through this desert, leaving behind a life I once
led. Leaving behind people, leaving behind lifestyles and leaving behind
addictions, maybe trying to find some form of peace somewhere overseas. I keep
walking and walking until I see this big white house in the distance. A house
that has no business being way out here in the desert.
I walk closer and I see a child digging behind the house. I go up to him
and I look into the hole in the ground, it's a grave. He tells me he's burying
his brother. His brother that looks as if he died of starvation.
Sometimes I wonder if people who die of starvation have that really
horrible of a death. In order to feel hungry your brain has to tell you, it has
to send messages back and forth and such, telling you it needs more food to be
able to function properly. I would think that in order to send those messages,
it takes energy, and to get energy you will need to eat or drink.
So if you are sitting there starving with no food to eat and no water to
drink, will your brain eventually stop sending those messages because it has no
energy to do so? If that's the case, you will stop feeling hungry, and then you
will just die.
I'm watching this child bury his brother, and from around the corner I
see an old man walking towards me. When he gets to me, he asks for water. Water
for him and his family. I take off my backpack and I look inside, bottles of
water. Bottles of water and and loaves of bread. I look at the dead child in
the sand grave, and I hand the man the contents of my backpack.
After, I take another
bark. Now I want to kill the dogs. Stop barking. Lynne says goodbye to me, and
she goes inside the building with Claire and her dog. The barking stops. I look
at Lynne's work in progress and then leave.
The entire way to the hospital, on that dirty bus, I can't help but
think if animals have souls. A lot of people say the difference between people
and animals is that a person knows the difference between right and wrong. That
people have a working moral compass. That people have a certain unexplainable
bond with other life forms. But what about the dog that lays there next to its
dead master, laying there with those eyes that want to cry. Laying there sad,
and when it sees the person who killed its master, it begins to bark
uncontrollably.
What about the goat and the horse that reside on the same farm who begin
to go every where with each other, and begin to care for each other, so much
that when one is sick the other stays by its side. What about the humans who
hunt other humans. The sociopaths who kill for fun, for sport. The serial
killers who show no remorse. What about the humans who strive to benefit
financially off of wars that are unnecessary. Do they have any more of a soul
than that dog, or that goat, or that horse?
I get to the hospital, and then to Joe's room and I sit on the chair. I
think to myself, what's the point of this. It's not therapeutic for Joe. It
does nothing for me. But still I sit, hoping that he will wake up so I don't
have to come back here. I guess the only real reason I do it is because no one
else has come to visit him.
How would it look if a man was never visited by anyone throughout the
entire duration of his hospitalization. At least when he wakes up, if he wakes
up, he will owe me.
After a while I begin to remember the dream that I couldn't remember.
Something happened to me and I went to Lynne for advice. She was able to
comfort me, to help me with this problem I had. This internal struggle that
keeps me prisoner. It was this strong woman in a tiny body. This woman who
tells jokes and gives life to plants even thought a part of her has been taken
away, she guides me through this dark hallway with her slight limp and her
bright yellow dress.
Chapter 10:
A GENETIC PEACE
Last evening, I had a dream. There's so much sand, and the Sun is so
hot. So yellow. I'm walking through this desert, leaving behind a life I once
led. Leaving behind people, leaving behind lifestyles and leaving behind
addictions, maybe trying to find some form of peace somewhere overseas. I keep
walking and walking until I see this big white house in the distance. A house
that has no business being way out here in the desert.
I walk closer and I see a child digging behind the house. I go up to him
and I look into the hole in the ground, it's a grave. He tells me he's burying
his brother. His brother that looks as if he died of starvation.
Sometimes I wonder if people who die of starvation have that really
horrible of a death. In order to feel hungry your brain has to tell you, it has
to send messages back and forth and such, telling you it needs more food to be
able to function properly. I would think that in order to send those messages,
it takes energy, and to get energy you will need to eat or drink.
So if you are sitting there starving with no food to eat and no water to
drink, will your brain eventually stop sending those messages because it has no
energy to do so? If that's the case, you will stop feeling hungry, and then you
will just die.
I'm watching this child bury his brother, and from around the corner I
see an old man walking towards me. When he gets to me, he asks for water. Water
for him and his family. I take off my backpack and I look inside, bottles of
water. Bottles of water and and loaves of bread. I look at the dead child in
the sand grave, and I hand the man the contents of my backpack.
After, I take another