“The Trash-man. That’s me, a mere trash, worker.

I started this journal out of surprise,

That person, whomever he may be, signed as “DSP”. I have no way to know what it stands for, neither did he leave any clue on his identity.

I found it in the dump, about 120 sheets, hand-written, hurriedly.

At first I considered it a mere joke. Then, some kind of genre which would mix science-fiction and surrealism. Perhaps Dadaism. Magic realism?

Magick… Magick.

Now it is pretty clear that man just freaked the hell out. And he did have reasons.

It talks about… Well… This is plain insane.

Continue reading “Chapter VII” →

Trabu and David were waiting for Leño on Sunday morning at the park
entrance. This consisted of three white stone benches and a lamppost. On one side of
each bench you could see two poly—chromed metal drums due to rust, which the city
council had put there as wastebaskets, as indicated by the motto written in white paint
—TOSS BOOZE—. The floor was littered with the remains of pipes, cigarette butts,

empty Styrofoam cups, and what had been ice packs. Behind the benches there was a
stone wall that ended just past the last bench at the entrance to the park itself, which
did have trees, grass, children’s facilities and other things of its own. At the end of the
park, not included in it although it did create a physical border with its black iron gate,
was the town’s cemetery.

David and Trabu had gotten together recently and had taken the middle bench;
the first asked the second why he had not brought his bicycle as they had agreed to do
the day before and as he himself had done —he had it leaning against the bench—, to
which the second explained that he and Leño they had changed plans at the last
minute, but forgot to tell him.

—What happened last night!? —That’s where they were when that scream cut
them off and drew her attention. It was the Log, who used it by way of greeting as he
walked over to his bench with a grin from ear to ear.

—Like you don’t know —Trabu replied, laughing with him.

David just shook his hand and greeted him as he sat down on the bench
between him and Trabu, with Leño to his right. He wasn’t very amused by what had
happened the night before, he thought that if he hadn’t been drinking he wouldn’t have
participated, although that didn’t excuse him.

—We still went a bit too far, don’t you think? —Finally she dared to say— I think
we went too far with the joke.

Hearing this, Leño got up, went to the nearest drum, full of the remains of the
party from the night before, and searched for something.

—Why? —he paused— For breaking two bottles? —According to what he had
just said, he took an empty liter out of the drum and, without warning, threw it at David.
Trabu had stepped aside, but David, thinking that his friend would only dare to feint,
stayed put. The bottle flew past him and shattered against the wall.

Trabu started laughing heartily while David froze. He knew that those in his
town had always been a bit of junk, but since the last time he had been there three
years ago, things had gotten a little out of hand.

—Are you crazy? —David exclaimed— You almost hit me. And we broke the
bottles in the middle of the road, do you know what can happen to us if we broke a car?