Sonntag, 6. März 2011

Lord Byron to Mary Shelley, and Mary Shelley to me then :"We will each write a ghost story"

Yes, Ilias, answered. What a fantastic idea Mary! You are a fox. ( from the German, " Oh, du bist aber ein schlauer Fuchs!) He thought, I see, Mary is eager for writing stories, and one day she will be famous with her "Frankenstein", so he got a seat and started writing in English, without having a clue of the English language and this is the result. I want to thank Dict.cc in advance. I also am very thankful to my brother who is absent right in the moment, so that I can use his PC Computer ( like the guy from Antwoord would say on youtube) in his bed room. Thank you a lot. Not to forget Empire of the Sun, singing only for me right at the moment , I have to fight with my inner wish to get up and dance like a fool. When I want to dance I think of Baba Yaga, the wicked with from Russian fairy stories with her mobile hut on chicken legs, who dances when the witch ( I always want to write bitch) dances. But now to the ghost story. I guess it will be shorter than all the things I wrote right now, alltogether...

Maybe I can write a surrealistic ghost story?

The story of Frankenstein retold? No.

Once upon a time there were foreigners registration offices in all German cities. They were seated in big buldings with a lot of narrow floors and balconies. A little boy was there with his parents. he wished they would vanish, because he could not stand to see them the way they were, sad and lethargic. They came there from a place that was destroyed during many wars and due to many earthquakes. When his parents left him alone on the bench for waiters and went in through the door with the sign " Sachbearbeiter A-C" ( clerk in charge A-C), he knew he will never see them again. Something told him that terrible things happened behind the door. People sitting next to him on other benches seemed to be absent, they looked unhappy and empty. There were perambulators with screaming and crying children in it. The boy, let us call him Angst, got nearer to the " secret room of A-C" and tried to listen to what was going on in the room, but there was no sound to understand. He had to fight with his fears and finally pushed the door and saw a big, monstrously big man sitting at a big table, with the windows wide open. The radio was on. A man voice was singing some pop song about peace and love and the European Union. Angst could not say a word. The monstrous fiend sitting at the table hat a very little head. He looked much more like a bug because of his too little head. Angst could not move. He saw the very big mouth of the monster at the table with big yellow teeth always chewing. Chewing what? Where were his parents? Give me back my parents, you fucking parasite, thought the boy. All the boy could see were his parents hanging on the ceiling next to many other corpses leading into eternity.


It is not a ghost story.

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