Sunday, February 12, 2012

the nonchalant euthanasia of Clay Yablonsky (excerpt)

After he had spent an hour in a virtual sex simulator, he showered and went upstairs. His mother was cooking a classic eastern European stew – lots of meat, potatoes and onions. The day had come to a close, and because this was Earth Month (though voted down by the populace the thing was rammed through as Executive Order 6ff after the prior election)– no electricity was to be used by anyone (except, of course military, law enforcement, banks, and wall street) for the duration of the month - and of course the month was July so it was 31 days and usually a tad hot.)... The place was lowly lighted via a dispersed array of candles, and aside from stewing water on the gas grill, the wind-up clock ticked and his mother casually hummed an impromptu tune. On the floor laid the old dog, who moved only his eyeballs as Clay entered the kitchen. He hugged his mom, complimented her on the cooking, and asked where the pills were.
Accent in full effect, she responded “I vill get them ven it is time…. Eat first.”
He sat at the table, and she placed before him a giant bowl of goulash and a thick piece of Polish rye bread. Although he had no appetite, he ate the stew and the bread. He thought how lucky he had been to have been able to eat such food his entire life; throughout the course of his existence friends would come over and enjoy his mom’s authentic eastern euro cooking; he wished he had more of an appetite – that he could savor these flavors… He finished his bowl, and set it on the floor. Alas: the border-collie/Australian shepherd stirred and lapped the remains of the bowl clean.
“Vould you like them vith beer, or juice…”
“Water.”
She went to a cupboard and grabbed a blister-pack that contained two medium-sized pills. She poured a glass of water and handed it to him, along with the pills.
She smiled.
“So long” he said as he downed the pills with a gulp of water.
He hugged his mom and went downstairs.
He was astonished how quickly the pills had taken affect – and how strong they were. By the time he got to the couch downstairs he was in a numb euphoria. A minute later, he was half asleep. Casually, a few memories of his existence passed before his eyes, and then…”You bastards” he whispered, and died.

1 comment: