The Amalgamation of What's Tangible and What's not.

Chapter 1

The thoughts were still fresh in my mind as they poured out like warm green puke onto the hot and cracked asphalt of my reality. I got a called over the radio that someone was missing a hat, a ladies' hat, left somewhere on the premises. And the wail of a young child was piercing the air with violence. Piercing at the walls of my brain.
My name's Dan. Dan the Man. Arbitrary misconceptions applied. But hey, I stick to my guns till the end. I wait and wait until the scantily-dressed ladies in my dreams magically appeared in front of me to supply me with numerous, and amorous, experiences of the earthly kind. I can see them now slowly materializing beyond my bed. Beyond my sad amalgamation of what's tangible and what's not. The call over the radio quickly dissipates my sadly little mirage of lust. Oh god.
The hat has been found. Good. But the baby's wailing continues. Bad. Hard to believe that my son was of crying age not long ago. Seems like yesterday. Or just a few hours ago. And that's when they come. The tears trickle down like cheap economics. A child-like wail is held within so only the wetness of my eyes gives away any sad emotion betrayed by my face. I mean, he's gone now so what can I do. Not gone into the realm of death, but gone beyond it. I'm the one trapped here. His excuses were that I hurt his mommy one time too many. If only he knew that all I ever did was hurt myself. But back then I was unaware of the hurt of others while my tortured soul walked
the edge of the knife. Anyways, there's no one around long enough anymore to notice the scars of yesteryears. I can't hurt others anymore.
Now it's gone. My train of thought is gone beyond towards the horizon or to the inhuman depths of the ocean. False fingers grasping at straws as I unsuccessfully try to recover that fleeting daydream. Futile.
My neighbor had to call a plumber for some disaster that erupted and started gushing water all over the fucking place. I walked the plank of asking them if there was anything I could help them and hoping to god (oh you non-existing god please help me!) that they wouldn't ask me to just let them use my bathroom. " Yeah Dan that'll be great if we could use your bathroom. We can't shower or use the toilets here since there's no water. Shit, we might be out for a week and the Lord knows we can't afford to stay at a hotel. Martha wants us to stay at her mother's but I rather rip my own dick off that spend one night under that bitch's roof. The kids hate her too..." . And on he went until I felt like my brain was melting. I could smell the faint odor of burned plastic mixed in with the decaying stench of dead organs coming from my neighbor's mouth. Yes, I had to walk that plank.
The radio was really chirping today. A parade of trucks crowded the parking lot as the smell of BBQ made my stomach speak with hunger. Two ladies pointed their asses at me as they seem to be digging for some hidden treasure in the back of a pick up truck. The sky lurched forward but swayed backwards. Puffy dandelions ejaculated their empty misery for the wind to spread it out. I saw this blonde beauty stride past me with vigorous haste but smile at me as she turned to look a few paces ahead. She slowed down and I caught up to her.
- "This is where you drop some cheesy remark", she said as the tumbling clothes inside the dryer woke me up.
- "Well, you know you are beautiful ", I said to no one. The air parted and molecules exploded.
- "I like it. I really do", her ghost whispered with yellow ululations. Her blonde hair surfing the wind with unmeasurable quality.

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I should've said no. But too late now. My neighbor's been using my bathroom for the last three days. Him and his wife and his two young kids. Lord! I guess I am a good samaritan now. Straight from the fucking bible.
Martha's a fat cow and her two little children are evil incarnate. John goes to work right after using my bathroom but not without giving me a piece of useless advice regarding interior decorating. "Y'know Dan, the tile on that bathroom is so outdated and so it's the bath tub. I know a guy that can do the whole thing under 5 grand, honest guy too..." he continues unafraid as my brain wanders and his words lose all meaning and I keep seeing Martha coming over to use my bathroom after John left for work and the kids were dropped off at school and she leaves the door ajar as I hear the shower go but I refuse to take a peek, fearing either temptation or deathly mania. She leaves soon after and I finally manage to enjoy the next few hours of my only day off.
I think about walking over to our community pool but it's too hot out. I could go fishing but it's too hot out. I would love to golf today but it's too damn hot out. I guess I'll just take a cold shower and head on out. I take my clothes off and walk to the bathroom. She's in there just getting the shower ready when I walk in. "Ready?", she says as I close the bathroom door, already regretting this.
Sometimes I feel sad when I sit back and thoroughly analyze all the superfluous criteria that makes most of working days worthwhile. I feel comfortable at work. I feel useful. I don't love it but I don't hate it either. It's like sitting at the coffee shop and pretend that I'm on my phone while I stare at people. It's relative. It's all relative.
The day is over before I know it and I find myself smoking a dead cigar and drinking warm beer. I'm outside and is hot. Very hot. My bathroom is a battlefield and the hallway leading to it it's a trench filled with bloody corpses. I should scavenge the unfortunate souls for any hidden treasure but I don't want to get blood on my hands. Their blood turns to jelly which reminds me of blubber which in turn reminds me of Martha. What a way to ruin my night!
I fall asleep with my senses dulled and an elusive melody singing the night away. Bye, world.

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A blonde beauty was haunting my daydreams once again. She left something behind and came back to retrieve it. At least that's what she said. "You're here everyday", she said. I stood there catching glimpses of amber and blue every time she blinked. Her astonishing presence was welcoming and almost motherly. The radio chirped and the static nearly murdered my eardrum. With smooth cadence and grace she left me attending my useless call. Oh how unfair!
I was reading something the other day about how empty and hollow everyday life is, how monotonous and utterly pointless. I felt like burning the very words I was reading and an urge to torture the author whom set them loose. I breath deeply and counted until ten to help release the tension of black depression and explosive anxiety trapped within. Naturally, I bottled it all up and even put a nice red bow on it. Hey, water is wet and the sky's fucking blue.
I haven't seen my neighbor in a few days so I figured the plumber came through or he just murdered his mother-in-law and he's in jail for life. Or maybe he just murdered his entire family and committed suicide and now they're laying in a pool of their own blood no more than 20 feet away from where I'm sitting right now. I should be able to smell their decomposing corpses in a few days. How long does it takes for a human body to start rotting? Who knows.
The sound of my ex-wife's voice woke me up again today. Second time this week. She resurfaces from my nightmares and into my daymares. She strolls the hallways and every room like she owns the fucking place. The fucking balls on her,right?
I noticed the crack on the wall earlier today and the water slowly seeping through it. I told one of the handymen at work since the pool of water on the floor was quite large even though the leak was very faint. "Yeah, yeah we got it", he said. Not much patience there.
The rain came in raging. I was soaked through. But 10 minutes later the sun was out. Every leaf and every man-made object shone with a wetness from within. And I was still soaked . With rain and with sweat. Sweet!

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I was looking at the screen like an automaton when she asked me if I wanted another drink. I said yes and a glass of gin and tonic magically appeared in front of me. A couple of wedges of lime drowned inside the clear elixir, squeezed out of their life-juice. The game went on on the screen as I sipped my drink and she shot her money grin at me. What a curious smile she has, I thought with a lurking wave of anxiety threatening to come bursting out. Great.
The monkey things were tiny and annoying and they swarmed the forest like deadly napalm. We tried to scare them away from a certain tree that was a bit close to the premises and we succeeded but not completely unscathed. They threw shit-bombs at us. The little fuckers.
She served me my third gin and tonic with the same graceful ignorance as the other two. The bar swayed with the same ol' and decrepit drinkers as in every damned week night. I stood up and my knees turned to jell-o. Fun fun.
A tiny white weevil walked along the edge of the ashtray. It camouflaged neatly against the cigar ashes. I was tempted to burn it with the lighter but I just ended up flicking it away. Go away, little bugger, go away.
A pro was called to take care of the monkey things. They called themselves exterminators . I hope they exterminate.
I left the bar sometime between 8 or 9 drinks later. Some pterodactyl tried the old one-two on me but luckily for me she failed miserably. I was stalling. I really was in no rush to get home. I kept thinking about Martha and John and the kids and the odd smell coming in from their house. I ought call the police or someone, I thought. Maybe they forgot to take out the trash. Or maybe not.

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I drive home and my street is an eyeful. Flashing lights. Red and blue . Blue and red. I detect the discord of voices as I drive my car past my neighbors house. I'm tempted to pull in to my driveway. I drive past my house and to the nowheres beyond.
It turns out they were dead after all. The rotting stench of human corpses smells an awful lot like old garbage. Awful is indeed the correct word. I imagine fat maggots burrowing deep into Martha. Feasting. What a fucking feast!