The Facebook Shrugged Part Two

4:10 AM, City of Haruege, Kyiv

An alarming tone has beeped, and I picked up the message in my left eye.

“Predator has been killed,” the wind whispered, as filtered message went through the mechanic system.

And then I woke up to find myself after 48 hours of sleepless. It was roughly 1 AM. I went under the lens. Only I realized that electric system was cut off. I got up, and walked through the net lens by door. I looked to left. But my ears were glued. The lightning appeared.

It used to be that I was able to hear lightning booms. And sonic train, too. But they were of rare moments. Sonar sharks delivered in my eyes.

Incidentally, after nights of no eating, and mystical tars of smoking, I burped in the daylight. That was two hours later. It tasted like a burger.

And so I went out to get a cigarette pack at local gas shop. This time, I did not use my baseball cap. Because I knew that the pin top would attract lightnings. Or so they say. I took on my Red Ring coat. Prior to that, before passing the laundry room, I detected sonar eyes to the right, as if distracted. I took a full swing of look at the laundry washer itself, my brown eyes toned out the starch of arc of green and blue colors. It was my binoculars. I looked to outside, I could see the lightning arc to my corner of left eye through the net door. I knew something was wrong. A eclipse of binoculars of European descendants. A ginger creature, I thought. The damned Leviathan out of Indic through the Mars of Jungles. Is India in trouble? Some wolf creatures that killed Predators of old times?

And then I thought of the predator film. That is not easy.

And so I stopped by gas station. A Japanese assassin fellow was accompanied by American hit-woman. I bought a cigarette pack by routine. When I came home, I detected the firefly inside the jungle of tree… That was in my right eye. And to left, it lightened up, as well. That was off the light orb of glass blub inside lamp that new neighbors have set up in the corner. There was lightning in the middle frame of my eyes, and my left ear ached just a bit. Firefly flew into my ears, I thought. And so there was two houses that has fireplace pipes on the top of two houses from a hill down there.

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3:00 AM?

Throughout the subsequent part of night, I was still in my left cast. I turned on TV, after turning my computer on. I did so, in effect after a little reading of Kurt Vonnegut book in candlelight. I did so because I noted the printer power-on light next to the monitor.

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3:30 AM?

And so I turned on news. Then I turned on Syfy channel, only to find that The Lawnmover Man is on. I had cigarette breaks and watching at the same time. It was misty outside, and it smelt darned good. I only began to find that red robin, at sunrise, when I detected the black pixel that fell out of my right eye at trees, flew to the left of Scoripion eye. That was when I wasn’t paying attention to the movie. There was a glitch. It tried to assassinate or pest my left eye. Failed, I suspected. It flew into and out of the house between the wall of neighbors. I looked at the swing line of path of bird. That was two hours in its entirety.

There was more to it. As sunrise risen, I stood outside still in my wool cast. I looked at both neighbors houses in backyard and made a comparative note. The mosquito to my left that stuck to wall above left to the door, with green stains from rain climbing to the top of wall between neighbor houses. I noted the bug by window. And I also noted a tore net-wall by living room window above my present floor to right.

So I went back inside, and sat. I didn’t do anything but watch The Lawnmower Man. I looked to my left door… I was shocked. Did I lock that door? No way. 

Am I being entrapped in this room? I thought about the digital TV. As things progressively went on, every time a scene was being showed, I felt tingles and pinned itchy in parts of my body. There was one certain scene, in which my left arm was somehow pulled to northeast direction to the TV. It was itchy. I took the cast off in hurried way to remove the wool cast. I unwrapped the band. The rest was bizarre, in which I cannot show at the time. Some cameras behind the TV knew the rest. I tried to get joint back in the right position with my left thumb. It wasn’t easy as I went close and closer to HD-TV. 

5:45 to 6:45 AM?

I went upstairs after the movie was over. I reached and took Stauffenberg book, then The Somme with pictures in it. I went through the history of pictorial World War I sequences. Whether it was cool or not, I do not know. The TV somehow controlled my body under the Baja California and out of Seattle, straight away to North Korea. Three South African herons had made compromise. Jobie made its own decision, I thought.

I was in dining room. I detected from my left, as if gliding out of my corner of eye, a gray mirror that apparently went from front door and into the basement. I followed it, only to find that news on TV was left behind by me. I thought that its lens tried to get my attention. So I walked out to backyard. I looked to left, one odd branch of tree suddenly moved harshly, up and down direction. Can’t be wind, I thought, because its motion was too heavy a lift.

So I went up to my room for communication. Incidentally, later, I went to my basement only to find my wool cast with its own gunpowder of insect stuck on it. I took a good look at the bug. One of its antennae was missing. And its right limb seems to be stomped, which the bug tried to use for walking. The right limb is practically a cane for its ripped right antenna on its head, I thought.

I went to outside and tried to set it free. It wouldn’t go off. And so I smelt some cheese coming out of the laundry ventilation to my right. Soon after, an uber-person by the fence showed up and sat to look for his cooking electric stew pot meal. Orange agent gook, I thought. He purposefully walking undereath, though I can only see his whole head. I looked over the fence by my head. Come on over, I indicated. I wanna show you something. I showed him the bug. I was a little skeptical, pointing at the trees and so forth. He was skeptical, as well. I shooed away the bug.

And so I slept around noon or one PM. I woke up around 9:23 PM.

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Image by The Library of Congress via Flickr

5:23 PM, Hague, Hungary

“Lukin, I have an assignment for you,” a secret agent said.

“What kind?”

“This is highly classified. It concerns the beasts in the jungle of India. He needs to be eliminated.”

“Let me guess. Rahm Emanuel?” I said.

“No.”

“Well, who else under the directive command of KGB?”

“This is much, more complicated,” he assured me. “Someone violated the law. It is a moral reputation for you to uphold. I can’t say anything more, because…”

“Because I’m the only guy who can handle the job?” I said. “Out of all people?”

“Yes, I believe so, I’m afraid,” he said. “You know who I’m talking about?”

I shrugged.

“You’re our only manual guy, Lukin.”

“I can guess, Begin,” I said. “Very well. Well, since you’ve come to me in this urgent manner, I suppose I’d better  go ahead and do it. If you’re gonna do something, I’ll make sure you regret it. Don’t forget what I say. I, out of all people,…”

Image by The U.S. National Archives via Flickr

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9:23 PM, Washington, DC

I woke up, only to find myself fell into the grounds again. Melatonin pills worked well, I thought. Time to polish the time lost by bygones. I thought about the NBA games, and then suddenly I was interrupted by a grim feedback. I sighed.

Marlene called. “John Galt?”

“Yes?” I answered.

“Have you heard about the news?”

“Which one is it, ayer or manana?”

“What?”

I sighed. “Yesteryear or morrow?”

I could sense a click of blink. She remembered her Spanish.

“Yesteryear,” she said. “Wha–”

“So, who died in forty years or ninety-five minutes?” I interrupted. “Or 132,000.3333 years?”

“What do you mean?”

And then I thought about Oklahoma and Luger. “How about a meeting by the mall, the usual spot? My left hand isn’t well. My thumb is still in its porous process of swelling.”

“What happened?” she asked.

“My ballistic bone on my left hand-wrist has been railed and scattered in dots in blood. Long story. I was in an accident. I can’t afford to leak the report. It was one-time thing. Tell me what you know. Noon or one o’clock on Sunday?”

“Jonathan…?” asked in a confused voice.

“Or would you prefer to wait till next Friday as usual?” I said. “Fun, or not. You choose.”

Image by The U.S. Army via Flickr

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