The Apocalypse Reader by Justin Taylor (Editor) Page A
Authors: Justin Taylor (Editor)
Tags: Fiction, Literary, General, Science-Fiction, Short Stories, Anthologies, Anthologies (Multiple Authors), End of the world, Short Stories; American
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it only when we were sure Harriet was not around.
HARRIET WOULD GO out early in the morning, scavenging for food. She never found a scrap, and slowly, she wasted away. For awhile, it seemed as though her huge biceps would not give, but then, they too faltered. She went gaunt. Lionel and I weren't much better, but the jam at least gave us energy.
HARRIET COLLAPSED TO the stage floor. "That's it for me," she said.
She lay there for days, but never once did her eyes close. A couple of times I went to check if she was still breathing. "Get the hell away from me, lecher!" she'd say.
But soon she became like an infant, babbling and singing strange songs. She cried sometimes, then licked at her tears, desperate for salt.
She wouldn't die. It became painful to see her, so I was relieved when one night I woke up to find Lionel spoon-feeding her a late-eighties marmalade.
"I have broken the pact," he said to me. "In the morning you will execute me."
"Of course not," I said.
"We have done something terribly wrong," Lionel said.
I looked down at Harriet and could see that she was gone. A dollop of orange marmalade stuck to her stiff blue tongue.
THE BALLAD OF HARRIET
THE SCENE:
The Unimpeachable Goddess (Harriet) is flying high up in the clouds with giant wings made of fine cashmere. She is draped in jewelry and she shimmers in the morning light. In her arms she cradles the skeleton of a puppy. She carries a banner that reads "For God's Sake Don't Put Me On "That Stupid Fucking Slide."
THE UNIMPEACHABLE GODDESS
(Stares angrily into the audience, but does not say a word)
END.
We are in some endless office building in the sixteenth arrondissement. Lionel has his mallets going and I'm zinging pencils at a metal filing cabinet. Then the glass stops shattering and I hear Lionel say, "You must come here and look at this." It's a memo about a Bastille Day celebration.
We ride our bicycles to a storage facility at the edge of the city. It takes a while to pry the lock open. Inside we find crates labeled "Class B Fireworks." Next to the crates are a giant switchboard and a generator full of diesel fuel. We load everything into the trailer and move it back to the Odeon.
We build a cockpit out of plywood and mount the switchboard inside to serve as our control panel. Lionel unpacks the fireworks. We connect the igniters with xlr cable and distribute the charges to various places in the theater. We put Blue Thunder, 1000's of Silver Coconut, and Brocade Crown in the balcony. Gold Willow and Chrysanthemum with Blue Pistil go in the stage boxes. Along the flies we attach White Tiger Tail roman candles and we stuff the stage manager's desk full of Dragon Eggs with Thunder canister shells. We attach the biggest charges, Fire God and Rising Twinkling Tail to Red Gamboge to Twinkling Chrysanthemum, along with four sticks of dynamite we found in Sven Ronsen's old room, to the space beneath our cockpit's flight chairs. We aim the Crackling Royal Ceiling Lamps and Watercolor Glitter aerial shells at the stage curtains. We rub everything down in diesel fuel.
GRAND FINALE
THE SCENE:
Cape Canaveral, Florida. Morning. Two astronauts prepare for liftoff. Rex (Lionel) is an ace pilot. Sebastian (Me) is a scientist testing the effects of antigravity on a jar of premium vintage fruit spread.
REX
(hands at the switchboard)
Ten seconds to liftoff. You ready for this?
SEBASTIAN
You bet.
Sebastian opens the jam jar and sticks his nose within. He inhales flavors of mint and sweet berries, of bitter spice. He bites into the jelled concoction. He chews it. He savors it. Here on earth it will taste different. It will have an earthly flavor that is important to understand before he compares it to the outer space flavor. Every experiment must have a control.
REX
... two ... one.
END.
WHAT IS IT
WHEN GOD SPEAKS?
Diane Williams
THIS WAS THE house which once inspired a sister of one of the guests to declare, "People kill for this."
That's
HARRIET WOULD GO out early in the morning, scavenging for food. She never found a scrap, and slowly, she wasted away. For awhile, it seemed as though her huge biceps would not give, but then, they too faltered. She went gaunt. Lionel and I weren't much better, but the jam at least gave us energy.
HARRIET COLLAPSED TO the stage floor. "That's it for me," she said.
She lay there for days, but never once did her eyes close. A couple of times I went to check if she was still breathing. "Get the hell away from me, lecher!" she'd say.
But soon she became like an infant, babbling and singing strange songs. She cried sometimes, then licked at her tears, desperate for salt.
She wouldn't die. It became painful to see her, so I was relieved when one night I woke up to find Lionel spoon-feeding her a late-eighties marmalade.
"I have broken the pact," he said to me. "In the morning you will execute me."
"Of course not," I said.
"We have done something terribly wrong," Lionel said.
I looked down at Harriet and could see that she was gone. A dollop of orange marmalade stuck to her stiff blue tongue.
THE BALLAD OF HARRIET
THE SCENE:
The Unimpeachable Goddess (Harriet) is flying high up in the clouds with giant wings made of fine cashmere. She is draped in jewelry and she shimmers in the morning light. In her arms she cradles the skeleton of a puppy. She carries a banner that reads "For God's Sake Don't Put Me On "That Stupid Fucking Slide."
THE UNIMPEACHABLE GODDESS
(Stares angrily into the audience, but does not say a word)
END.
We are in some endless office building in the sixteenth arrondissement. Lionel has his mallets going and I'm zinging pencils at a metal filing cabinet. Then the glass stops shattering and I hear Lionel say, "You must come here and look at this." It's a memo about a Bastille Day celebration.
We ride our bicycles to a storage facility at the edge of the city. It takes a while to pry the lock open. Inside we find crates labeled "Class B Fireworks." Next to the crates are a giant switchboard and a generator full of diesel fuel. We load everything into the trailer and move it back to the Odeon.
We build a cockpit out of plywood and mount the switchboard inside to serve as our control panel. Lionel unpacks the fireworks. We connect the igniters with xlr cable and distribute the charges to various places in the theater. We put Blue Thunder, 1000's of Silver Coconut, and Brocade Crown in the balcony. Gold Willow and Chrysanthemum with Blue Pistil go in the stage boxes. Along the flies we attach White Tiger Tail roman candles and we stuff the stage manager's desk full of Dragon Eggs with Thunder canister shells. We attach the biggest charges, Fire God and Rising Twinkling Tail to Red Gamboge to Twinkling Chrysanthemum, along with four sticks of dynamite we found in Sven Ronsen's old room, to the space beneath our cockpit's flight chairs. We aim the Crackling Royal Ceiling Lamps and Watercolor Glitter aerial shells at the stage curtains. We rub everything down in diesel fuel.
GRAND FINALE
THE SCENE:
Cape Canaveral, Florida. Morning. Two astronauts prepare for liftoff. Rex (Lionel) is an ace pilot. Sebastian (Me) is a scientist testing the effects of antigravity on a jar of premium vintage fruit spread.
REX
(hands at the switchboard)
Ten seconds to liftoff. You ready for this?
SEBASTIAN
You bet.
Sebastian opens the jam jar and sticks his nose within. He inhales flavors of mint and sweet berries, of bitter spice. He bites into the jelled concoction. He chews it. He savors it. Here on earth it will taste different. It will have an earthly flavor that is important to understand before he compares it to the outer space flavor. Every experiment must have a control.
REX
... two ... one.
END.
WHAT IS IT
WHEN GOD SPEAKS?
Diane Williams
THIS WAS THE house which once inspired a sister of one of the guests to declare, "People kill for this."
That's
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