December 23, 2010 by Mathew Ferguson
I sneezed and my halo jolted off and rolled down a drain. Maybe lost forever. I called the sewage people and they said it’ll probably come out in a week or so. I was welcome to come down and search through the huge collection of halos they’d pulled out. We give them a good clean the man assured me. No thank you I said as I hung up. I’d rather go without.
*
This is very old writing. Could be from high-school, I’m not sure. I can see I had already started my religious mockery.
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August 8, 2010 by Mathew Ferguson
Ian’s mind had begun to run astray at a cocktail party four months ago. A girl from his wife’s work had been talking when he started to wonder how many flat double A batteries there were in the entire world. He followed this line of thought until it detoured into the number of spoons ever made, and then to how many pairs of chopsticks there would be in France, a country notorious for holding on to its own culture.
In the following weeks after the party his mind began to offer up more random thoughts, as though it was plucking them from some deep vault. Some thoughts he ignored, like wondering if people who wrote bad movies knew they were writing bad movies at the time, and some he followed, like the fantasy about owning a lawn-mowing business and solving local crimes.
Eventually Ian would think of nothing else but stray thoughts. Then another stray thought came: if all you think are stray thoughts then they are not stray. It’s just what you think.
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January 3, 2010 by Mathew Ferguson
The cats moved in on Tuesday and had a massive party that very night. There were streamers and lanterns and a bonfire and girls in tank tops squealing as they ran around barefoot. Their stereo system pulsed out boom boom boom, shaking the glasses in the cupboard and unnerving dogs for miles around.
We all pretty much wrote it off as hey they’re just new, a party to move in, they’ll settle down, all blah blah lies because we could see there was something illegal going on there. We didn’t have lank-haired foreigners skulking around our neighbourhood before the cats moved in. We didn’t have fleshy teenagers with low-cut tops and high-cut shorts smirking on our street corners. We sure as hell didn’t have that weird miaow music twitching on at any random time of day and night.
After their eleventh party, Mrs Anderson came over with a community letter for us to sign. Yes, we were aware of the hoof prints in her front lawn. Yes, we did know an emu fell over drunk in her garden. Yes, we did know about nude girls streaking down the street, jamming badly photocopied joke newsletters under front doors.
James misplaced his digital camera and went straight to blaming the cats. Even when he found it the next day he still said they were:
1) Suspicious
2) Definitely up to something
Emily wanted to make friends so she made cupcakes and we went over to meet them. We banged on the door for about five minutes but there was no one home, although we could hear purrsian radio playing. Just as we were leaving, one of the cats pulled up in the driveway with two brunettes who were sprinkled in body glitter.
We got cupcakes! said one of the brunettes. She took the plate and smooched Emily in one smooth move.
The cat twined through our legs, opened the door and went inside.
Come on! said the other brunette.
Emily mumbled something about homework but followed us inside anyway. She had a thin sparkle line of glitter along her left collarbone where the brunette had briefly wrapped her arm around.
The inside of the house was a duplicate of ours, just with different furniture. Instead of sofas and chairs there were cushions and beanbags. Dangling from the ceiling were feathers and glittery objects hanging on white elastic.
Do you partake? asked the first brunette.
James glanced at me and then nodded.
Ah, catnip.
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January 3, 2010 by Mathew Ferguson
What if the person of your dreams is out there waiting for you?
Simon had it tatttoed on his arm during a big night out and it was slowly driving him into depression. Every relationship wasn’t enough because what if the person of your dreams is out there waiting for you? How about this date? Yeah, but what if the person of your dreams is out there waiting for you?
Andrew suggested tattoo removal but Simon said he’d still think about it even if it wasn’t tattoed on his arm.
Then Emily rang and Simon sighed and they made plans to go out.
His heart wasn’t in it though because what if the person of your dreams is out there waiting for you?
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December 4, 2009 by Mathew Ferguson
Big hat silhouetted. A nimbus glow. He has coloured streaks through his hair, something no true Amish would ever consider but he’s wearing authentic braces and swears a vest is en-route from America.
This time, the rush doesn’t need time and comfort and a perfect mental state: it turns out to be simple equation of angle and pressure.
And a big hat.
Wandering the streets later and Miho wishes a stern Amish man would come walking along; his plain clothes and grim look out of place. Perhaps he was aboard a ship sucked into a hurricane and smashed on Japan’s shore. Working in construction, lifting and moving while he saves yen to book passage aboard a ship home. At night he eats as simply as possible and does not look out the window because there are endless electronic screens shimmering.
Neko Cafe is a quarter full of tourists stroking cats and being fat and grinning at the ridiculous idea of free-roaming cats in a cafe Dwight! What a crazy country this is Dwight!
Miho blocks out the English, drinks coffee, draws barns in her school diary and then encircles them with a love heart.
Category Short stories | Tags: amish,girl,japan,japanese girl,short story | No Comments
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