"I think you should pick those files up now,” said Emett. “And put them into alphabetical order."
The smug bastard.
"Shove it," I said.
I stick my middle finger up and kick over the recycling bin on my way out.
HATE
Mucilage Grout looked at the mirror.
“I refuse to develop, grow, change or adapt,” said Mucilage Grout. “Now and forever I will reflect only upon myself.”
Mucilage Grout focused on the part of himself that absorbed the most light, staring into his void-deep, oil slick skin.
The stillness moved and the permanence changed and the void-deep became less void-deep and more all-shallow.
“I hate you,” said Mucilage Grout, to everything in particular.
PHOTOCOPIED MAN
The photocopied man, Tony Simulacra, sat on the photocopied bench, next to the photocopied pond, in the photocopied park, on the photocopied world, in the photocopied universe.
“Actually,” said Tony Simulacra. “It is more like a low resolution scan than a photocopy. Every time I die the electric spark of my consciousness creates an inferior copy of the life I've lived before. Everything is reduced over and over into more and more undefined forms. All that I perceive of life is a blurred remembrance of my original consciousness in a better defined and more living universe. Each time I die I will relive my life in a more pixilated way, a more low resolution way. When you turn on the radio and you hear static; that is the sound of the future, the sound of our universe turning into abstraction. Every death leads me closer to a universe of empty static. The lowest resolution of all.”
The photocopied ducks kept away from Tony Simulacra, if only his smell was low resolution.
SOCIETAL DEFENCE MECHANISM
Mr Robinson had been kept awake until four in the morning by loud music and shouting from the house across the alleyway.
In the polite hours of morning, Mr Robinson knocked on the door of the house. The door was opened by a middle-aged man with large, blonde sideburns.
"Good morning," said the sideburns man with a grin. "How can I help you?"
"I was just wondering if you could try to keep the noise level down?" asked Mr Robinson. "I was kept up quite late last night by lots of shouting and music."
"Kept awake?" said the sideburns man. "Me and my acquaintances were keeping the noise level below twenty-four decibels, which is the legal limit."
"It was loud enough to keep me awake. I'm sorry but if you want to play music and drink with your friends in your garden, you should do it at a less antisocial time."
The sideburns man folded his arms over his round belly.
"Well, forgive me if I have caused you any disturbance, but I cannot be considered a nuisance unless the noise level is over twenty-four decibels. Perhaps a wind was carrying the noise closer to you, unfortunately it is beyond my power to control the weather."
"Well, please have some consideration. Otherwise, I may have to contact the police. People need their sleep."
"You are welcome to join us for a drink later if you like? I will be up until at least four every morning and I am afraid that the police will not do anything about it."
"I have work tomorrow and need my sleep, can you not have your parties indoors at least?"
"If you keep threatening me Mr...?"
"Robinson."
"Mr Robinson. If you keep threatening me then I'm afraid I will contact the police myself. This is harassment, Mr Robinson. No one else is complaining. I would say that you are the one who is the problem."
* * *
Later that evening, Mr Robinson could hear them again: the sideburns man and all his friends in the back garden. Mr Robinson could hear them talking about him. They were calling Mr Robinson a “stupid prick”.
Mr Robinson called the Police.
"Unfortunately sir, we are unable to do anything about the noise. Noise pollution is now under the jurisdiction of the Environmental Department of the Council."
"What is the number of the Environmental Department?"
"I am not obliged to give you that information, please stop wasting Police time."
Mr Robinson found the information he needed on his laptop. The department would not be open until nine o'clock. Mr Robinson left his laptop downstairs and tried to go to sleep again.
* * *
At five in the morning, Mr Robinson was woken by the sideburns man walking into Mr Robinson's bedroom. He was wearing surgical gloves and was carrying Mr Robinson's laptop. He sat on the end of Mr Robinsons' bed.
“I’m very sorry to wake you,” said the sideburns man.
"What are you doing? Get out of my house!"
"No need to shout Mr Robinson."
The sideburns man was typing quickly on the laptop.
"After some discussion with my friends I've decided that I do not like you one bit, Mr Robinson, I don't take to threats kindly."
"You’re breaking and entering," said Mr Robinson.
"We can all hide behind laws Mr Robinson. Laws were invented because otherwise we would be tearing open each other's throats in order to assert supremacy. In this new world we must subvert our artificial control mechanisms. This is a modern jungle, but a jungle all the same.”
Mr Robinson saw illegal pornographic images on the computer screen.
"What are you doing?!"
“The police will be very interested when I tell them I saw you masturbating to this child pornography when I passed your window.”
The sideburns man smiled.
"It appears that your societal defence systems are turned against you, Mr Robinson."
DELEWAR DOST
Faith had sustained her throughout her journey and soon her faith would be rewarded. Gleaming before her was the beautiful and golden temple city of Delawar Dost.
She rolled up to the gates on her wheelchair and bowed her head respectfully to the silken-robed attendant who looked down at her through his blissful, golden mask of joy.
She explained to him that she had travelled her entire life to get here, following her faith and her love of
