When Red and EG left, they turned off the electricity so it's been pretty tricky trying to figure out what to do. Fortunately, I keep a flashlight in my tool box. Flicking on my dim bulb, I fumble around the draft pile trying to find an idea. I take in shadows and shades, diamond-patterned and cross-hatched, falling across back-issues of Popular Mechanics and worn out VHS copies of Nova. It's all very abstract and evil but I need something solid to go with.
Walking away from the draft pile, I scan the room and find a crumpled up piece of paper stuck to the corner of the fish tank. I pull it out and flatten it. It's the WILATU list. I suppose I could tackle what's left, I think as I make my way to the kitchen. I snag a Guinness from the fridge and return to the main room to curl up in the poang and think.
What is left? Coffee...I'll leave that one. I'm not a fan myself. CD's...obsolete...next! Movies...maybe. Cartoons...maybe...people who still drive station wagons...that might be interesting. I think I'll need another Guinness before I decide. Which would you prefer I do?
"Why are you asking them?" Pickles the duck asks as he light up a cigarette.
"Oh, goody; you're here," I reply, darkly.
"No really...why can't you just pick something and write about it...are you chicken?"
"Then, pick something, dammit! I'm not getting any younger..."
I close my eyes and drop my finger on the list.
"Number thirty-one: Singularities. Great. Now I'm going to have to learn something."
"It'll give you character. I'm outty...do you need anything from Loews?" he asks.
"One construction pencil and a trouble light and a small generator."
"You got it, toots," he says as he slams the door behind me. Oh sh*t; he has grabbed my keys.