Home Bitter Home – (The 59th Story in The #HankSaga) By @Deeliopunk @HankSaga

Home Bitter Home – By @Deeliopunk

The air was bitter (not sweet at all) and the white flakes cascaded down relentlessly. She was outside, Nina, trying to uncover her car from the frost that had accumulated. I stood inside Blue Spaghetti’s laughing at her, for I didn’t arrive in a car, but instead on a dragon, so it was all good, yo.

“Hank, who are you talking to?”

“My reflection, Dan. My reflection in the window as I express my inner thoughts through poetic prose.”

“Right…so uhh, some of us are going sledding. You in?”

“No thanks. Rupert and I are getting ice-cream on Sunshine Island a bit later.”

“Oh, well that sounds pretty fun. Can I come?”

“El oh el, Dan. Not a chance.”

“Hmm, all right then. Have fun… Carpenter.”

“You too… Writer.”

He leaves with an anger upon his brow as I stood there staring at him through the reflection in the window. He was walking backwards, doing some weird up and down thing with his eyebrows (kind of freaked me out). A few minutes later my ride arrived. Rupert, a giant, a dragon, red and ravishing, always a delight to lay eyes upon. He tried to help Nina with the snow on her car, but instead burst it into flames with his fire breath. He’d better not ask her to join us for ice-cream.

“Hank.”

“Yeeeess, Dan?”

“Just wanted to get something clear, so you’re talking in past tense about things that are happening in the present?”

“I’m reflecting on things moments after they happen, not as they happen, Dan. Someday you’ll understand, maybe even be a decent writer.”

“Thanks for the confidence booster, Hank.”

“Of course. It’s what I’m here for.”

“That was sarcasm.”

“No it wasn’t.”

“No, what I said was sarcasm.”

“You were being sarcastic when you said it was sarcasm?”

“Goodbye, Hank.”

The strange man leaves again, this time not walking backwards and looking back. I sway my thoughts from present to past, perhaps as a means to find myself within the infinite timelines of events unfolding before me. Nina climbs onto my friends back and wipes her brow – for it is not an easy task to climb upon a dragon. Unless he lets one of his wings down and lets you climb onto that, but it’s cold and the ground is covered in slush, so he was probably not about to do that, yo.

The two travel closer to the building that holds me. Inside there are dozens of patrons, eating Chicken French, pasta concoctions, egg salad. One of them even eating brains (i’m pretty sure he’s a zombie though).

“Rupert,” I say as he peeks his head into the main doorway. “What is she doing on your back?”

“Just giving her a ride home, Hank. Oh and since I don’t have auto-insurance could you do me a solid and report this with your agent?”

“Hmmm, depends how good the ice-cream is.”

“Oh, it’s the best ice-cream you’ve ever had.”

“Pishlemtickens will be the judge of that.”

“You’re inviting that annoying fairy?”

“I am now. Everyone knows he is a connoisseur of ice-cream.”

“Well, let’s just get Nina dropped off first.”

“Okay.”

I step outside and climb onto the dragon’s back. Once upon the red scales I turn back to look at Nina and give her a big glare as to tell her I don’t want her here and she’s a big nerd. I turn back around and we whip through the sky, but it’s cold, so soon we turn to ice and fall off the dragon’s back – my thoughts still thinking as i’m falling, thus able to recite these things to you as they’re happening. Let’s see, there’s a small village below, a couple billboards, and a mime pretending to cut lumber. Now he’s building the house, installing the plumbing, and going to the bathroom – is anyone going to tell him the house isn’t real?

Before we crash to the ground into iced pieces of ourselves Rupert catches us in his mouth and quickly thaws us between his gums. It smells like rancid cow meat in here – the mouth of a dragon – but it’s a better smell than salted pavement.

“I just want to go home. Where are we?” asks Nina.

“We are home… we are home.”

“No we’re not.”

“Oh, we’re not? Rupert where the hell are we?”

“I don’t know.”



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By Dan Leicht (D.e.e.L) Feb, 16, 2015

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Wait…Hank writes POETRY?


The #HankSaga and all characters are creations of @Deeliopunk

 

 

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