Synopsis:

            Times, Thoughts… Words is a collection of tales that are from times, both past and future, when the natural sequence of order in the time continuum has experienced a distortion of what we as human beings perceive to be reality.  Perhaps such occurrences are caused when two dimensions overlap, creating tornadic vortexes within those forces that govern and influence the lives of individuals.  These are times when the normal and paranormal become a collage of indistinguishable events, of dark experiences that leave one devoid of explanation.  It is the trademark of such times, of such dark events, to leave those who survive with only their thoughts.
            Thoughts, like the time continuum, precise and unfailing, become the menace of the mind.  The rational memory can only record the twisted realities from some window in time that opened to allow persons, places and things to become rearranged in such a way as to mis-align body and soul.  The being left behind is a mutation, trapped and alone with only its thoughts.  But the beings, no matter how many ways they try to explain such events to themselves, can never rest until the tale is told.  That which is exuded from a former intelligence, is only a babble of words.
                        Words, however, are their only hope.  If they are ever to regain their place within the natural order, surely words will easily explain the circumstances.  The formed and frozen thoughts have become their last defense, that which separate them from the storm and reinstate them within a prior existence.  Surely, words will convince all of their indisputable truths.  Or, will their words convict them… of a state of madness?

A QUESTION OF SPACE

            The house we occupied was our castle, she and I, the wife.  It was a collection of our best loved art works, crystals or furniture.  But like many married couples, we did not share the same appreciation for what constituted that realm of comfort or desire.  While it was not ever a point for fiery argument, their were endless hours spent discussing the philosophy behind one’s purchase in order to establish our particular point, in order to claim the right to ever diminishing space.  While we were both committed to our desires for collection, we disagreed on whose was to be collected…….. The madness went on until there was but a single pathway through the entire house, the manic over enthusiasm of irresistible impulse that eventually exhausted every dime within our financial resources……… The contest had come down to inches, and now, there was only the two of us, looking intently into each others eyes.  There was only my quiet caressing and patting of a heavy wooden cane, a part of the mountainous collection, and its monotonous thumping as I tapped it against my other hand……..

THE  GRASS

            “The grass!!” he screamed one day.  “It’s alive, it’s crying,”…….. “It’s crying, couldn’t you hear it?”…………… Such was the disease of the young man’s mind that he inflicted the father’s life with so intense a concern, that the father fell to infirmity and stroke at a premature age………… It was sometime within his third year of control when Decker noticed a small red rash on his forearm.  It behaved like that of poison ivy or sumac, but no matter what the amount of medication applied, there seemed to be no relief……….. Decker worked feverishly within the several acre compound of plants, while his rash continued to grow and annoy his ever moment.  There was its stinging, piercing itching that burned from where he had scratched himself raw in several places………. At last Decker was at the edge of the field where he could see the acres of slaughter, where he could see an ocean of angry green tentacles reaching up……….

THE TRAP

            He was an unusual sort, living alone within his cabin at the base of the great mountains.  But the Colorado climate and the wilderness areas were such that it was the ideal haven for Ol’ Willie’s sport, trapping, and his economic subsidy, and for the hermit’s other equally enjoyable pastime, that of drinking whiskey………. It was not the details of the story which intrigued me, but the complete satisfaction the man found as he described the cruel events involved within that experience.  He would become lit with some kind of devilish glow of mischief when he described how he deceived one or the other of the many creatures frozen by the taxidermist skills.  Willie told of the wild and vicious encounter when he returned to a trap and found an animal within the cold device of steel, and its rage from the swollen extremity lodged between the metal jaws.  Then he became like some diabolical elf when he described how he killed the animal, “bashing the beady-eyed son-of-a-bitches between the eyes.”………. He had apparently fallen into his own menacing contraption.  But it was much more than the sight that turned our stomachs, it was the duration of his pain.  One could see evidence where he had for days thrashed about.  One could see how he had stoked the fire until every piece of wood had been consumed that was piled near the fireplace, and the metal gaff that lay near him, that he had used to set the trap, but could not utilize to free himself………..

STEALTHEN
 
            Ledgerwood’s position in the intelligence community had evolved to one of monitoring high altitude arenas where the many aircraft within the international community performed covert operations……….. It was during a watch when Ledgerwood noted one of those instantaneous blips that usually indicated the mishap of mid-air collision, that he routinely reported the event as was required…….. After several weeks of torment and what was now, several cases of unsubstantiated reporting, Ledgerwood was asked to take rest within a clerical position for a few months……. The longer he watched without making a report, the higher the rate of incidence.  It was apparent, it was not an object, it was not some ‘thing,’ but perhaps, ‘someone.’  How radical, he thought.  “Someone?  Someone!!  My God!!!”……… It must be a signal he thought.  It may be alien life forms, trying to communicate.  Or, it may be one enormous alien entity encompassing and engulfing the solar system like some silent, deadly virus.

ERNEST

            As children, we had always invented stories as to his wanderings and what demented thoughts lurked within his mind……….Soon, all were assembled within an auditorium at a nearby school, where a child’s story was relayed, alloying simple fear to grow to a new level of intense abnormality.  It was assessed that this was their reward for allowing this sub-human, Ernest, an existence within their quite and God fearing town……. As they all neared a tall tree across the street where it stood in a small park, Ernest began to sense the dark verdict and the sentence of his timid muse.  The rope was flung over a limb, while Ernest cried like the simple child he was, asking for forgiveness of some unknown sin………. All stood silent, feeling sick of the deed, not realizing there would be the spray of blood from his mouth and nostrils, or the morbid bulge of his eyes………. Again the sound, as the flashlight followed it upward, revealing among the branches of the great oak……….

LAMONA

            Alone I stood within the darkened tomb, my memories lying irreverent upon my heart.  Oh, heart!  What a heart that beats for the heart of Lamona………. Again I whispered her name, ‘Lamona,’ and again the sound fainted.  But as it died within the cell, I screamed her name over and over, as if to resurrect a part of what death grasp within its unclenchable fist of caskets and sepulchers……… Again and again, until I could but hoarsely speak in a muttered, muffled sound, a name that scarcely resembled the name Lamona………. But then, as the last echo began to sink into the deeper depths of nothingness, I distinctly heard an answer from out the darkness there…… I fought free of her clenches, and now the only thing between she and I, is an unfilled coffin……..

MEE-CHE

            The cries of madness broke the silent cold air of the upper mountain region.  It seemed that each member of the trapped research party were succumbing to the intense cold, and the hunger that had evicted civil thoughts from their minds……… The screams were those of one of the females who had gone somewhat insane, or suffered from the effect of what was commonly called, ‘cabin fever.’……. Only one man had been there before only one had the experience to survive, a man by the name of Mee-Che, a native Tibetan guide……… Short days and long nights did nothing to help warm the occupants of the tents, nor their spirits as the days became weeks and months of captivity within the blizzard conditions of the mountains……….. By late May, only one member made the trek down the mountain passes………… Mee-Che had only to keep himself supplied with food until the long months of cold were over………. Voraciously, he sucked the fiber and flesh from the bone of some fowl his wife had prepared, and then threw the cleaned extremity into a pile in the center of his circle of friends.  Thinking back, he chuckled to himself as he looked upon the pile of bones, thinking of another pile of bones which he had stacked within some rocky recess on the mountain………

THE MASK

            They all eagerly dug.  Digging with shovels, hands, pick axes, anything that worked to remove the dirt.  The tomb smelled of stale and molded things, dead things that had been interred with its occupant some many vast centuries before.  The Peruvian jungles were hot and insect ridden, with no limit to the amount of cut-throats and thieves, competing for lost and ancient artifacts left by some long and distant relative of the very grave robbers I engaged to bring us to this God forsaken place……… As I gazed down the dark, tunneled hole, there came the sound of stones caving in, and then someone clambering toward the opening.  I placed a lantern at the mouth of the hole so as to allow the light to shine in when there burst from the opening, a sweaty arm.  At that very instant, the hole closed up as the rocks above crushed the half-breed.  But, that did not shake me, nor the grunts and choking of the native, I had seen men die before.  What did however, was what lay within the hand of that outstretched arm, a silver and turquoise mask……….. After landing, and several days of cautious arrangements to acquire a buyer, I had to kill the second oriental as he tried to increase his cut to a hundred percent……

MARY

            It was the simple thing to ask, that is, to be left alone………. Mary was sixteen, but well advanced in years as far as her intellectual abilities went, and very attractive, but only one more reason for her family to concern themselves with constantly watching over her…………. As the days came and went, Mary became weary with the distractions of her male following, and night found her slipping away in her 4X4 to enjoy her love of speleology.  It made no difference whether it was day or night to explore caves, and her over protective family had no inkling that she was even gone…….. But not long after entering the cave, she noticed the glimmer of light some distance behind her…….. Through crawl spaces and crevices for long hours into the night, she evaded the persistent light that would sometimes disappear as she escaped to a point beyond its slow progress……… Mary had now entered into areas of the cave she never explored before, but this game of hide and seek was only fueling her ego at the stamina of this faceless person.  Whoever this was, she could not shake him with her fast and feverish pace through the cold mud……… In the first hours of Mary’s madness, there frenzied, feverish emotions that found her thrashing and climbing about to find some avenue that would take her from the tomb-like harboring of the cave……..

MARGROYLE

            The mountain was a steep precipice that yielded a bitter reality to all who dared challenging its grim face, but we there in the hopes of conquering its unforgiving clefts and chasms that marked its surface, breaking the continuity with the interruption of abysses, gaps and narrow gorges………… “Margroyle, Margroyle,” they repeated.  The head guide, Kamish, stood within a crevice that rose upward, marring the mountain’s face with a deep scar, approximately two feet wide and several feet deep.  But it wasn’t obvious as to why he was so distraught….. “Margroyle,” he continued, while almost breaking into tears and trembling from the terror derived from just stating the name……… As one of the Mongolian guide’s scream faded, we remained inside for some moments, trying to comprehend the profundity of this archaic nightmare, like a dream by children, yet animated in the persistent scream that had faded into the stone recesses………. Crunch!  A sound from behind announced the Margroyle’s return as I turned to behold a terribly fierce monstrosity of flesh and fang, covered with a shaggy coat of dirty white hair.  There was a quick reflexive thrust from one of its long muscular arms, and a fellow climber was in its grasp.  There were frantic seconds of writhing as the creature held him fast with a powerful hand, and then with the other, reached, grasping his head, pulling it from off his body with the ease one would have plucking a grape……..

THE CALLING

            Mary would cry out into the night, a victim of another one of those mysterious callings she spoke about so vehemently, awaking all from their sleep, inviting hysteria into the still of our nights, trembling like some broken reed during a storm……. But inside they all knew from the radical expressions of madness, that Mary had seen or heard from some dark vision, that there was upon her lips the message of death…….. Soon the prediction came to pass.  Charles as was noted, fell victim within a short span after Mary relayed the announcement of his future demise…….. Mary was quite insane, but I alone understood her callings.  That they were to be followed to the letter……….

PARTS

            He was nothing to most, he was just different with his gimpy leg and all…… “O’RILEY’S MEDICAL LABORATORIES” stated a sign atop a concrete block building, painted white with a red cross beneath the lettering.  Underneath the red cross, in small lettering it read, “Biological Distributors of Human Organs for Medical Research.”…………… But Les wasn’t listening to much of what the Irishman had to say, he was too taken by the surreal and medieval contents within.  Upon one wall were several diagrams and instructions as how to properly perform the function of dissecting a cadaver into its many pieces.  On another wall behind the table were rows of metal instruments used for cutting, sawing, scraping, gouging and stripping flesh from off the bone………… The mock Tarzan yell instantly turned into the full furied swell of an insane scream as Les was drawn to the concrete below…….. Some weeks later, one night in December, Amanda went to her window and opened the curtain.  A few moments later, a light flickered off and on in the apartment she knew was O’Riley’s.  Slowly and seductively, Amanda began to undress until all her clothes lay on the floor around her ankles…………. “And what attracted you to me?  To make you watch me through the window and then figure out how to get rid of Les?” Amanda asked.  The Irishman hesitated for a moment while he looked her over from top to bottom with lustful desire………..