There’s something about having your car burnt in front of your library that gets you feeling a bit uncomfortable. That’s how I explained not going to the library today. I did not stay last night, either, instead taking Imp with me in the bookmobile deep into the north woods of Banned County and sleeping at our family’s land.
It was like camping.
Carter found us around noon today. He drove up in that blue Volvo and stood staring at the gate to the land for half an hour. I watched from the woods as he got out of the car and just stand there. Staring. Pistol in his hand by his side.
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Sometimes your past just jumps up and bites you on the ass, you know? That thing you thought was done when you ran away from it screaming so many years ago just shows up and burns your damn car down. Like burning madmen do. But I’m getting ahead of myself. I started today off teaching Imp about cataloging.
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This weekend I was sick, both from my seasonal allergies and the horror show that the Man in Red showed me of how he was to ruin the world with the replica thing he had Ben Tobias building in my library. And with myself and my cousin Ilene “Imp” Banned helping in the construction.
Each night I saw the box shrouded in red mist and pulsing with a deep, slow hum. Ben leaned over it and moved his hands over the rough stone-like surface and chanted in a dark language.
Of course I was also out of town, meeting with my parents and my sister and her family for the holidays. We met early this year because we all live so far apart now it just seemed better to have one big meeting rather than a dozen. I told them about what was happening, about the dreams, but my mother shrugged it off. Read More
Another day, another hangover. This is becoming a meme. Can you have memes that only you know about, that only you follow? I condone this behavior. I am my own meme set and will continue to replicate my behavior if only to please myself. Or I shall die in a drunken pool of my own self delusion. Either way, I have my own fun.
My cousin Imp seemed better off than me, and she should being younger. She also hides her pain and lies better than me, so it could also just be a smoke screen. I hope for the former. I hate to be lied to over a hangover.
Either way she bound into the library ready and with coffee, so I am not that upset at her despite the sunshine she let in. Read More
Thanksgiving. I spent most of last night at the Tonk taking in most of my calories and sleep agents from a bottle. Came back to the library to finish off the same.
It’s not because I don’t like the holiday. I have nothing against turkey and stuffing. You can keep the cranberry sauce, though. I don’t eat things that quiver.
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All while I was growing up, my house was never where the other kids played. We were always a little closed off, not apt to entertain. Most of that is probably because my mother dealt with people coming and going all day through the library and the idea of them coming home with her… Just no.
By extension I dislike people coming by my home unannounced. I also enjoy walking around semi-clothed and intoxicated, but that is another story. With my cousin, Ilene “Imp” Banned, coming by with her boss to the library that I was now more or less calling home, I felt put out. Read More
Hey, you! Yeah, you, the sailor on shore leave that came home expecting a hero's welcome but only too late found out your sister's pregnant and your alcoholic brother fell ass backwards into millions of dollars. Feeling shitty this Thanksgiving week? WELL DON'T.
Because starting today through December 1st, the Kindle ebooks from the Banned Library are free! Well, two of them are. The rest are $1 though, so come on. It's like we are giving the place away! So go on right now and get Cold New Year and Can I Help You for free and tell all your friends about the website. Hell, why don't you click on the banners anyway and just give them a rating of five stars and tell us how awesome we are. That would be a Thanksgiving miracle all on its own.
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The library was cold and dark. I forgot how much it cost to heat the old building and fall comes late in South Mississippi. I bundled myself in front of the computer I moved into the office, the blanket and robe draped around me and chewed on a cocktail of antacid and aspirin. The headache would not leave me today.
The banging on the front door started at ten in the morning. A persistent banging that continued for twelve minutes. I ignored it.
Two hours later my headache was gone and I began drinking the last of the whiskey from the night before. I am not proud of days like this, am not proud of much in general any more. But I pass the time. Read More
Sleep has always been my bane. That sounds dramatic, but it is true. I hated to sleep. Until I was four or five I slept in my parents bed and my mom would tell me stories about men looking for their golden arms and such.
Then, when I learned to read, I graduated to reading by night light and flashlight. I guess my mom understood and allowed it. Dad would make me turn out the light if he saw, and I am not sure if he ever got it.
As I went on, my insomnia and deepening need for stories grew to the point where my brain would not shut down without one. Sometimes it would bring them forward as I slept, taunt me. A story of my grandfather’s, the Tailypo, always horrified and hated me in my sleep. The stalking beast appeared at the end of my bed and told how it would skin and eat me. Read More
I spent another day in the police station answering questions about Bob Simmons and Jessie Cartwright. After Jessie left and was arrested and Bob was beat nearly to death, everyone is keeping pretty close tabs on me. I sat and answered their questions with as few words as possible. Four hours later they let me go.
They arrested me soon after, of course. Read More