Winner of February’s Zero Flash Competition
The Walrus is snuffling in my ear and I am freaking out. I need to get out of here. I want to lift my prone body off the bed and make like a tree and leave. Except the goddamned cobwebs are twisting spinny-like around my ankles, and my arms appear to have turned into mangos. No, not mangos – I’m not insane – pineapples. The Walrus is trying to speak to me; its words are fluttering in the air around my head. I lift my pineapple arm and grasp one. With a quick snip-snap, I gobble it up and then instantly regret my foolish spontaneity. It was a lie and lies taste like metal and shit. Why would the Walrus lie to me? I vomit up the lie and it slithers under the bed.
The Walrus looks suitably ashamed and pulls a string of shiny truths from its gaping maw. The brightness of these little truth jewels blinds me for a moment. And then I see. The jewels are angels and they fly around, luminous in this liminal world of bedtime talk. But these angels of the Walrus have teeth and they fly into my face and nibble at my eyes and ears. Their teeth are small but they draw blood. I flap them away with my clunky fruits which are useless against the angels’ sprite-like agility. Their gnawing is unbearable and I plead with the Walrus to stop. It relents and the bedroom darkens as it eats up its sheeny-shiny angels one by one.
I turn my back on the Walrus and reach under the bed. I grab the lie and swallow it whole. It doesn’t taste too bad second time around.