It has been many dark and ominous years since those dreadful events that occurred that faithful day at Aunt Ethel’s brothel. The gurgling noises made by Aunt Ethel still ring deeply in my mind, the sight, the horror, it was terrible, she loved those Oreos – it was just too soon for her.
I found myself a blackened, gloomy looking log cabin; the walls coated with thin sheet of infested moss, green the colour of envy. The table I sit at is poorly constructed and termite ridden, it shakes and wobbles as I am brooding, the table is stained is stained with blood Oreos and my tears. I love you so much, why has it come to this. I stand up and move towards the stuffed lynx, it must have been a majestic creature when it lived, danced and frolicked with the other animals and unicorns; its fur is now soaked in blood, what has happened here. I shamble pass the piles of Oreos towards the door, barely able to lift leg after leg. Thighs burning, calves ready to give out, I reach the door and fall through it.
The scene in front of me is indescribable, wall to wall appliances, clothing, food, and other goods and services. What is this place? It’s so wonderful, anything I possibly want is here and the prices, so low? This store is magnificent. I slip into the frozen food aisle, and the sight I see is terrible and frightening, a giant vicious pot belly pig. Its jagged teeth stained with flesh grin at me, the look in its eyes are obvious, he is hungry, maybe this was the cause of the disaster in the log cabin.
In this split second I reflect, what has happened since Aunt Ethel has died, how have I come to this, how did I get here? Was it the man in grey suit that did this to me? I am so confused.
I run, run faster than I ever have before, I can taste my sweat on my tongue, I am so out of breath I can taste blood. I plough through the cashier who screams, and dive through the revolving door, scrapping my knees and look up at the sign. The glowing sign in the night sky, it reads,
Walmart
-Smokey the Bandit
PS: Engsoc is Good.
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