Lou’s Diary – Entry 14 (text version)

I couldn’t bring myself to read Floyd’s diary today.  I’m tired of his obsession with the Gore.  And that’s exactly what it is, an obsession.  He writes over and over again of being drawn to the piles of body parts.  He needed them.  They needed him.  He described being away from them as a little pinch in his brain.  The longer he was away the more severe the pain.

He went back to the aquarium a dozen times in two days at one point.  He couldn’t even explain it.  He knew it was stupid.  He came closer and closer to not being able to leave each time.  He really knew he was losing it when he started naming the piles of body parts.

The piles were made up parts from both animals and humans.  Each pile had enough parts that, if assembled, would make a complete two-legged creature.  They were mismatched parts that had no business being together.  One pile would have a horse’s leg, a man’s left foot, a bear’s torso, etc.  The next pile would be different creatures, but the same types of body parts: feet, legs, torso, arms, head.  The only parts each pile had that were the same were the hands.   Every pile had two human hands.

A lot of times it was obvious that the hands didn’t come from the same person.  Floyd identified each pile by the right hand.  Most of the time he could determine if it was a man’s hand or a woman’s.  Based on that, he gave the piles names matching their genders.  Children’s hands made it tough.  If he found one with a child’s right hand, he’d go by the left hand.  If both hands belonged to children, he just called it Junior.  Luckily, he’d only come across that once.

That was the pile he was most drawn to.  He always found himself standing in front of Junior, waiting for it to speak, to tell him what to do.  Junior had a cow’s head, so he wasn’t sure if it was even possible for the pile to speak.

He figured out at some point that Junior did not like the hands it was saddled with.  They were small and fairly useless.  He didn’t know if Junior had told him this or not.  Not using its cow head with its cow tongue to tell him, but by using some kind of mental mind trick.  Junior was saddened by its pathetic hands.  The other piles didn’t respect Junior. They taunted Junior.  They were cruel to Junior.

Floyd felt badly for Junior. He left the aquarium one day and went to the kitchen of a nearby restaurant and searched until he found a very large and very sharp knife.  He set the knife on a table in the dining area of the restaurant and promptly forgot why he had been looking for it.  An image of Junior’s cow head flashed through his mind and he remembered why.

Floyd wanted to give Junior a new set of hands.  His own.

He went outside, ran to the riverbank and tossed the knife into the water.

One thought on “Lou’s Diary – Entry 14 (text version)

  1. Well, when the Oz chronicles are all finished (not saying I’m ready for that) and the leather bound collectors edition hits the shelves, I hope those of us with the sense to get said leather bound edition will also receive a copy of Lou’s diary with it. This has really turned into a superb bit of storytelling’s. Thanks again!

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