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The Hogs of Entropy 0507
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ooooo ooooo .oooooo. oooooooooooo HOE E'ZINE RELEASE #507
`888' `888' d8P' `Y8b `888' `8
888 888 888 888 888 "Oli"
888ooooo888 888 888 888oooo8
888 888 888 888 888 " by Isaac
888 888 `88b d88' 888 o 3/8/99
o888o o888o `Y8bood8P' o888ooooood8
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The King is a young, pale man. He has thin, light, white hair and
can never seem to hold his head up straight. It is always resting on his
shoulder while he simply gazes into nothing with an always odd smirk or a
frown fighting off a laugh. His face is shadowed by the soft blue light
from a small slit in a castle wall behind him, illumniating the back of
his head and the centre of the castle floor. The air is old, dry, dusty
and can be seen swirling in the light. The King sighs, taking the air in
his nose and letting it out in a tired moan.
His thrown is a very old black wooden chair with a brown weaved
back and supported by carved paws. Truely, he loves his chair and thinks
fondly of it while he sits on it motionless. When ever he moves it
creaks. He dislikes its creaking, especially when there are people in the
chamber with him and the creaking imbarrasses him, as if his chair is of
low quality. He wears a poor dusty red robe draped over his body with one
golden line circling the bottom near his shoeless feet poking out under
the robe. When he talks it is as if he is calling out for something in
his sleep. His voice is very soft and fleeting.
"Oli," the King calls out, summoning his servent.
"I am here," Oli says annoyed, as he steps out of the shadows.
"Oh, ah, yes, you are are," the King says and lets out a little
laugh or cough.
The King stares at Oli for awhile with an small smile like he is a
baby on traquilizers.
Oli is bald and has stoic hairless face. His skin is greyish white
and soft and his body is covered with an over sized pale brown robe. He
is a tall man, with large shoeless feet and long hands. His nose is wider
and flatter then the King's.
"Oli, food would be nice," the King says, "bread? water?... have
you any?"
Oli explains, "Please, stop being a fool. I am not your servent.
And we are not in a castle." He gives up, though, and sighs. Oli walks
to the passage way and lifts up the cloth door of there stone hut and
crotches slightly to exit to the sandy barren outside.
The King smiles and his drifting eyes settle on the floor. He is
gripped with a message from his inner being that telling him he needs to
fill his stomach.
"With dirt, perhaps?" he whispers softly to himself, "Leave me
alone, at least now. I have been dead already for so long. Do you
understand this? No. Of course you don't. You are even more dead then
I am. Was I ever alive?"
The King brings his fingers to his lips and slowly licks them.
"I still love you, though," he thinks to himself. He closes his
eyes.
Oli's eyes blink and squint to block the sun and the sand as he
scans the horizon and wonders forward. The only sound is his bare feet
against the fine sand. He remembers for a moment how his mind used to
buzz with things in his youth, now it gently moves along like a little
stream of water. The sun slowly goes down and he feels he has wondered
enough. He spots a tree and rests under it with his legs crossed one of
the other as he always sits to meditate or relax.
Unexpectedly he senses movements on the other side of the tree.
A rather old, unclothed women walks out. Her skin and appearence is the
same as Oli's. Oli says nothing, and takes her hand lightly in his and
smells her chest. She smiles a little and only follows him with her
eyes. Oli takes in a breath of delight and awe. They lay together and
ambrace each other and sleep.
When Oli awakes, the old women is gone, but Oli feels rather nice
about it all. He picks himself up and decides to walk home and tell his
friend, the white haired man, about the women. Oli feels strange,
though, as he thinks.
"I am calling that place my home now? And that white haired
object my friend?"
He begins to remember and take confort in memories of his childhood
and his first home. He also remembers one small girl who would push him
down and run violently giggling and he would also laugh but wonder why he
was not able to defend himself against her. She was his only friend,
once. Just as the King is now his only friend.
When Oli arrived at home, the Sun was high in the sky and he was
happy to finally be escaping it under the roof of the hut. The King was
sleeping in his beloved chair. Oli tried to wake the King by gently
shaking his shoulder. The chair creeked.
"I have new stories of the outside to tell you," Oli recalled how
much the King loved to hear stories, especially new stories. It would be
a good day for him.
Oli noticed the Kings chin and lips had some sand on it.
Oli paused for awhile and stood there motionless, blinking, and
staring at the King. To brake the stillness Oli made one last effort to
wake him by shaking him very violently. The Kings head drifted and his
body slowly slipped awhile from Oli and tilted the chair over. The chair
fell over and the Kings face hit the stone floor with a smacking sound
and the chair hit it with a cracking sound. Oli stayed motionless. All
he could do was stare.
After awhile it occurred to him that he should move the King out
of his home before he started to stink it up and make it more of a mess
then it already was. He dragged him by his feet out of and around the hut
and over sand dune. Oli let go and the king roled and slid for awhile
down the dune and he just watched passively. Oli let out a single laugh
and remembered what a fool the King was. He walked off and went back
into his hut and sat against a wall in a more shaded corner and, after
some time of his quiet flowing stream of thought, fell asleep.
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[ (c) !LA HOE REVOLUCION PRESS! HOE #507 - WRITTEN BY: ISAAC - 3/8/99 ]
