zero plus nothing equals - 16. the funeral

by jeremy witherington

part sixteen of 31

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sam jones woke up. he rolled over and went back to sleep he had a dream in which he was walking down a dark road. he could not remember his name. was it dave fenster? or was it siddharta lollipop? that is a funny name, sam thought halfheartedly. but it is not my name. no, it is not, he heard a voice say. the voice came from the front seat of a long black limousine parked by the side of the country road. get it the car, the voice continued, we have work to do. suddenly sam remembered. < he was not sam jones, or dave fenster, or whatever lollipop. he was nick olivetti, and the driver was dave fenster. nick got in the back seat of the long black limousine, and dave fenster started it up. sorry if i was late, nick muttered. you were not late, dave reassured him, as he maneuvered the limousine around a sudden bend in the road. we have all the time in the world, he added. where are we going? nick asked innocently, as the moon suddenly appeared through the trees. to a funeral. not mine i hope, nick replied with a laugh. you know, dave replied, you always had a great sense of humor for a guy who never said anything funny in his life. suddenly bright yellow headlights flared up ahead. who can that be, nick asked, who would be out on a country road like this at this time of night? you are a real bright boy, aren’t you? almost as bright as these lights bearing down relentlessly upon us. you use some real big words for a guy who never said anything intelligent in his life. look out! the car with the bright lights somehow whizzed past the long black limousine. dave fenster laughed. you weren’t nervous, were you? he asked nick over his shoulder. who, me? nick replied nonchalantly. the road got bumpier and darker. the moon disappeared again, behind the tall black trees. next

zero plus nothing equals - 15. the hotel

by jeremy witherington

part fifteen of 31

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algernon looked out the window of the hotel. the desert stretched away for miles. the hotel rose thousands of feet into the air. and algernon could not wait to go downstairs to explore the thousands of shops and restaurants on its lower floors and in the city surrounding the hotel. albert einstein stood im one of the doorways of the suite and looked pityingly at algernon. beware, my boy, he intoned. you may well lose your way if you go downstairs, and not be back in time for the conference. nonsense, algernon responded merrily. i have a perfectly good tracking device attached to my person. no harm can befall me. professor einstein sighed. very well, but do not say i did not warn you. algernon got on the elevator and waved goodbye to the sage. he was the only person on the elevator and it quickly deposited him in the ground floor. he was surprised at how empty the lobby was. there were only a few chairs and sofas and no one sitting on any of them. he saw a desk in the distance and a man with a pencil mustache and sporting a purple bow tie with white polka dots on it standing behind it and staring, with what algernon perceived to be a glum countenance, into space. algernon turned toward the revolving door out to the street but as he did so he noticed a sign over a door to his left saying - shops. that is just what i iwant, algernon thought, i can have jolly fun gazing at the merchandise and not worry about getting lost, because i can always ask the people in the stores how to hget back to the lobby here. and so he walked through the door marked “shops”. he found himself in a short corridor with a floor sloping upward away from the street where he could see a few well dressed people strolling casually along. the corridor turned sharply to the left. to another, shorter corridor, with a staircase at the end of it. the staircase was unmarked, and only went down, not up. algernon went down it. and found himself on another, very different looking street, with crowds of people, many of them not at well well dressed, thronging it. and across the street was what looked like a movie theater, with an old-fashioned marquee reading simply- how curious, algernon thought. he was tempted to turn back into the hotel. next

zero plus nothing equals - 14. the stranger

by jeremy witherington

part fourteen of 31

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avast, thou knave! what a curious phrase. even for a curious dream. number ten woke up. his connection had been repossessed. so he decided to tell himself a story. it was a bland afternoon in the town of nowhere. but the young person was determined to be served. the king was irate. business was bad, and he was under the weather. he knew he must not get too excited. the sun shone on the coral reef on the horizon. the knave was sad, and gazed longingly at the young person. the king blamed the knave for the bad business the town was doing. and the king also did not care for the longing glances the knave was directing at the young person. suddenly a stranger appeared on the horizon. the stranger was riding a strange beast, such as had never been seen before. the stranger arrived on the dusty street and tied his strange beast up in front of the saloon. as the church had been burned down earlier that week. howdy, the king politely addressed the stranger . what is good about it? the stranger replied, apparently mishearing the king’s word. well, the king, polite as ever, replied, the sun is shining, and plans are in effect to rebuild the church which so unfortunately burned earlier this week. where is the queen? the stranger rudely interrupted him. i am afraid she is indisposed. in that case i will be on my way. would you like a drink? the saloon is open, even though the church burned down. without bothering to reply, the stranger turned and untied the strange beast which he had tied up only moments before, and remounted it. and rode out of town, never to be seen again. this is all the knave’s fault, the king mused bitterly. next

zero plus nothing equals - 13. number one

by jeremy witherington

part thirteen of 31

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number one woke up. they were lonely. well, kind of lonely. actually, quite lonely, if you really want to know. number one suddenly thought of number ten. number one called number ten on an impulse. did they not call them on the phone? hello, is this number ten? you woke me up. i am sorry, i was feeling lonely. i was not feeling lonely, i was feeling sleepy. i am sorry. it was thoughtless and unconscionable of me. i bet you do not even know to sell unconscionable. i believe the phrase you want is spell unconscionable. now you are being hostile. goodbye. number one stared at their phone. what an ampersand number ten was, they thought ruefully. number ten closed their eyes. it was the year ___________. depending on how you look at it. it was the beginning or the end do you mean, the beginning of the end? there was nothing good on. number one was still lonely. well, maybe a little less lonely. they went back to sleep. and dreamed they were walking across a desert inside a great walled city. next

zero plus nothing equals - 12. sally

by jeremy witherington

part twelve of 31

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sally johnson woke up. she got up and got dressed. she had a dream in which she was lost in a strange city. will i ever find my way, she wondered. i had better watch my step, or they will find me, whoever they are they will think i have returned from the dead. forgive me, i did not mean to ignore the program. it will not happen again. flowers bloom in the spring. unfortunately sally was not a flower person. except in her dreams. where the flowers were behind the windows of the endless stores she passed trying to find her way back to the hotel. where she was supposed to be attending a seminar at that very minute. a seminar on ” loss - its true meaning”. how ironic, she thought. a seminar on loss and i really am lost ha ha. on an impulse she decided to enter one of the endless stores with flowers in their windows. as luck would have it, at that moment she woke up from the dream. outside the sky was gray. it was too late to go anywhere, even if she had somewhere to go. maybe it was cold outside anyway. maybe it was cold in paris or rome. or all the other places she would never see before she died. get a grip, sally told herself, and get up and make yourself a sandwich. a nice peanut butter and jelly sandwich. eating it would beat walking through the endess streets in her dream of the strange city. which was not paris or london or hong kong or singapore or even new york. but where was it? and where was she? and who was she? next

zero plus nothing equals - 11. jose

by jeremy witherington

part eleven of 31

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jose chen woke up. he got up. he made himself a ham and cheese sandwich. its juicy deliciousness invigorated him and cleared his mind. he had to do something today - what was it? suddenly he understood everything. but he had a hard time remembering anything. but there were always exceptions. up up and away. sometimes it was exasperating. jose’s best friend was named rick. rick was a great guy with a great sense of humor. jose had not herd from rick in a while. maybe he was not such a great guy as jose remembered. be that as it may, jose remembered him fondly. things might have turned out differently. you never know, jose had another friend named pedro. in another universe he might have kept in touch with pedro. but sadly, not in this one. it was had to all very sad. suddenly what jose had to do popped into his head. he had to go to work. of course! and to go to work he had to get dressed. and out the door. next

zero plus nothing equals - 10. the road at night

by jeremy witherington

part ten of 31

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the red dog ran down the dark street, chased by a man wearing a blue hat and waving a butterfly net. a woman in a green dress stood in a lighted window and watched the man in the blue hat chase the dog and wave the butterfly net until they both faded from sight. it is so sad, she thought. they were there, and now they are gone. a ilmpid tear rolled down her heavily rouged cheek and she stifled a sob. a man sat behind her on the left side of a long couch upholstered in dark purple, with his left arm, encased in the sleeve of a maroon smoking jacket, extended over the top of the right side of the couch. nothing. i was just feeling sad. sad about nothing, i suppose. i saw a man wearing a blue hat chasing a dog down the street with a butterfly net. really? what kind of damned fool chases a dog with a butterfly net, especially at this time of night. who knows? he might have been an interesting character, but i will probably never know now. tell me more about this fellow. what color coat twas he wearing? i suppose he was wearing a coat, as it is a bit chilly out. his coat was a curious shade of puce. all shades of puce are curious. there you go again, making light of everything i say. i am sorry. why don’t you go for a walk? it might clear your mind of all the wretched detritus that has been cluttering it up lately. that is a good idea. thank you for your sympathetic understanding of my brain problems, which have been relentlessly ongoing lately. don’t mention it. be sure to wear a jacket, as it is a bit chilly out. * the woman in the green dress put on a pale blue coat witth a pink hood and stepped outide. the night was cold, but, lost in her wandering thoughts, she hardly noticed that it was. the man in the maroon smoking jacket took hsi arm down from the right side of the dark purple couch and heaved a melancholy sigh. next