The Other- An E-Chapbook
The Wax Thing Found a Door and Ate It.
But the door was too solid and the wax thing broke a door knob chewing. This was after the frame snapped and stuck in the throat. But the wax thing kept chewing. The door was in front of it and then the door was behind it. As long as wood and splinters existed, the wax thing would continue to find table runners in its gut. Once upon a time, the wax thing tried to eat a window but the glass cut pieces of throat it should not have. Then the other thing emerged from the sill and threw itself at the wax thing's face. Wax thing and other thing bit and
thrashed and landed in the basement, where tiny little children jumped on their backs to dislodge the spinal columns. Neither remembered this dismemberment. They thought only about the door and how beyond that, there was a bell and after that, a welcome mat and walkway. Only one could ring and step through. The wax thing melted over the other. It flashed red and then bright white. Goodbye, Other, the wax thing whispered and digested the other's thorny bulk. Then it devoured the door so nothing else would knock before arriving.
The Other was a Procrastinator.
The more the wax thing wanted to do something, the more the other made a mess. It broke a support beam in half, then swallowed an entire table. This wasn't something the wax thing had expected and so when the table cracked, the wax thing's jaw dropped. It went through the floor tiles and landed in the basement. The wax thing used to be lab partners with the other but the other had gotten tired of measurements and beakers. It had started added the chemicals to plastic bowls and then to tin cans. Then the other combined peroxide and acid and it had all exploded. That was the end of the other's scientific aspirations. And the wax thing just kept stirring diligently, until someone asked if the wax thing might build a wax body that could be experimented on. The wax thing built a beautiful sleeping woman and went to sleep. The other stared at the woman and cut her open. The other started with the torso, peeling the wax flaps back until the painted innards were exposed. Back then, the wax thing was certain it might marry this anatomical figure but the other's betrayal was too much.
The Wax Thing Went Around Being a Hero.
The problem was, the wax thing was always too early. The wax thing rang a doorbell and it was still five minutes before the dinner was interrupted by fork and knife violence. Or, the wax thing ran into the convenience store and stood in front of the robber, not realizing that the gun was behind instead of in front. Or the wax thing suddenly ran after the other who was just sitting on the stairs playing with a piece of wax and hadn't yet decided to smear it across the walls. The wax thing was too worried about being late. It tried taking yoga classes but always ran out suddenly because it knew the other was on the verge of doing something dirty. Every time the wax thing found the other, it was just drifting back and forth from a ceiling swing. Why are you always so red, the other asked and the wax thing drank a gallon of water. Grab a bucket, the wax thing screamed. The other waddled around the house, grabbing cups and hiding buckets. It took its time. The wax thing leaked. The wax thing's beverage poured out, soaking the floor until it flooded and the other could float from fridge to stove.
The Wax Thing Decided to Travel.
There were too many rumbling pots and pans for the wax thing to contend with and when the wax thing asked, the other refused to stop soaking its buttocks in the kitchen sink next to the dirty sponge. The wax thing packed its bags and left. It rolled down the neighborhood streets and dropped into a body of water, where it floated downstream for nearly five months before entering the ocean. The wax thing thought it was going somewhere exotic. It dreamed of eating spiced citrus chicken in Fez while wearing a fez. It thought it might go on a religious pilgrimage through Spain searching for carved wooden virgins. Even if the wax thing ended up circumnavigating the earth and stopping in New Mexico to spend a month living in an adobe house, the wax thing would be happy. None of those places were near the other. The wax thing drifted and was sunburned, dehydrated, and emaciated. It washed up on greenish-brown shores and stared at the familiar people. It must be cultural immersion the wax thing said. It found a house like its own. The other waved from the sink. Welcome home, it said.
The Other Got Lost and Fell Into a Box.
It was a hard fall and the other took several minutes to survey its surroundings. The box had no cracks or folds. It was a sturdy box., an ordinary box, cardboard instead of clear plastic laminated pressed wood sheets. No matter how the other scratched against the walls, it could not get through them. The other looked at its hands, lamenting its lack of nails. It kicked at the walls. It squirmed and rolled around in a circle, struggling to free the flaps. Who puts a box in the middle of the woods, the other asked and stamped its tailed feet against the box bottom. The other pressed its back against the box walls and sat still, listening to chirping. The wax thing poked its head into the box. What are you doing in there, the wax thing asked. The other sat up. It barely reached the opening. I was in the forest and I took a wrong turn. There was a precipice and I fell in, the other said. The wax thing pushed the box open and the other crawled out. That didn't happen, the wax thing said. How do you know, the other said. You weren't there. The wax thing pointed left. You're in the backyard, it said and went into the house.
Wax Thing Tired Quickly of Such Mediocrity.
It wanted to turn into something else but was afraid of the pain associated with applying butter to those hard to reach places. The wax thing went to the other and put melted dairy fat on its spine. The other scratched but did not scream. The wax thing pursed its lips and poured the butter over the other's shoulders. It feels very cold in here today, the other said and tucked its head in between its legs. The wax thing hid in a closet with seventeen gallons of oil and eighteen sticks of butter. It does not seem to hurt, the wax thing whispered and pushed the butter sticks into its head. It drank the oil. The wax thing bloated with fat. Its head bobbed up and down on its rippling neck. The wax thing opened the closet door and stumbled into the hallway. It rolled more than it walked. The other looked up. Dear god, the other said. It's the caterpillar demon! It finally came to eat me. The other ran for its collection of holy water. The wax thing looked into the television and saw the milk-fat spots spread all over its body. Cables sprouted from its head. Holy water splashed the wax thing, washing the butter-oil off.
The Other Was Hungry.
But there was nothing in the cupboard and the wax thing didn't feel like going to buy them food. In all actuality, the wax thing was still recovering from an eating disorder based around eating foods that were primarily white. Thus, the wax thing preferred avoiding going to the grocery whenever possible. The other lifted the carpets and pulled dust bunnies out of the wood. It ate them whole and coughed. I don't like how this tastes, the other said. It spit the dust up and left the clumps for the wax thing to clean. The wax thing wandered around the house. It went into the backyard, searching for mushrooms and truffles. There was a bright orange variety beneath the swings and the other shoved the fungi into its mouth. It didn't bother to chew. The mushrooms filled its belly. The wax thing came off the roof. When did you go up there, the other asked. The wax thing cocked its head. Go up where, it asked and took a handful of the red turnips near the fence. It skinned the vegetables with its front teeth and threw them on the ground. I'd like steak tonight, the other said. The wax thing threw a spoon.
The Wax Thing Felt Abandoned.
It visited an old house that was falling apart from the inside out. The wax thing lived under the caving porch, shivering as termites swarmed over its frostbitten body. Come home, the other shouted from the street. The wax thing climbed through a window and lay on the buckling floor. The ceiling arched downward. The walls melted. I feel this way, the was thing said. It looked at its wrists and plucked at the solid residue, releasing the lines inside. These should be veins but they aren't carrying anything, the wax thing said. The other knocked on the door. I won't leave, the other shouted. Then you'll be out there forever, the wax thing said. The other ate a piece of the floorboard. I'll tear this house down, the other said. That's fine. Then you'll have to disassemble me, the wax thing said. It dug its fingers into its gut and worked the lacquered coils out. The other went inside the house. It stood over the wax thing's body. This is urban exploration, the other said and climbed into the wax thing's chest to explore the metal beams creating three cardiac chambers in a row. I am echoing, the other said, digging around.
The Other Had A Urine Burn Bottom.
It was a painful mess and no matter how the other wiped, the dried caustic powder wouldn't come off. It is incontinence, the wax thing said, throwing baby wipes at the other. No, it is just a urinary leakage, the other said. Are you positive that this is all related to the urinary? What if this has to do with rectal substances, the wax thing asked. The other took the wipes and ate them. Then I will accept that burden and shoulder it, the other said. The wax thing boiled water and brought a pot to the other. The other seated itself inside and let the water cook its flaking skin off with the residual heat. It hurts to get clean, the other said. At least you don't have scouring pads, the wax thing said. The other scrubbed and its skin came off. Are these the same steaks we buy from the butcher shop, the other asked, holding the flesh up. The wax thing narrowed its eyes to see better. I think the other ones have a deeper red color, the wax thing said. A deeper red, the other asked. The flesh is bleeding! It threw the meat onto the ground. The wax thing wrapped the flesh up in a brown paper. A faceless man is coming to dinner, the wax thing said. Wash up.
The Wax Thing And The Other Discovered God.
Technically, it was religion but the wax thing and the other decided they wanted a proper noun to describe their predilection for crosses and strong smelling incense sticks. The other made itself a wooden pew and sat upon it. Nail me, the other shouted. That sounds dirty, the wax thing said, stirring a bowl of herbs and water. No, not like that. With a hammer and nails. Nail me to the pew so I can be an idol, the other said. It nodded at the box of iron nails on the counter. The wax thing picked them up and swallowed the nails whole. I have no desire to take part in the construction business, the wax thing said. It hiccuped and a nail cut through its belly. The wax thing pushed the nail back in and stuffed the hole with wadded paper towels. The other frowned. Then let me confess my sins, the other said. What's the point? I already know all the things you've done and I am less than impressed by them, the wax thing said. Then what's the point of asking forgiveness, the other asked. There's no point. Who said there was, the wax thing said. It placed thorns on its head. Am I pious enough, it asked. The other rewrote the religious text.