The skeleton-hot-rod-man was at once majesty and mystery. His face was fleshless and toothsome but his car was loud. A cacophony of golden tubing, rivets and steel. He drove me back in time to see a drive-in movie once and bought me a giant tub of creamy popcorn. I spilt some on the dash but he didn’t seem to mind. When he dropped me home along the blackened sea I had to regurgitate the kernels to correct the time-continuum we had crossed only hours before.
Extract from Shock Fiction Tales: Odes to Death, Decay, Eternal Conflict and the Exaltation of the Quest for the Dream, American or Otherwise by Charles Lidgard © 2004
No comments:
Post a Comment