Alien Massage (Comedy Short Story. Please comment your opinions.)
I suddenly felt very cold. The small room felt like it had an AC unit on the fritz. Massages always made me slightly uncomfortable. Just something about being mostly naked with a stranger touching me gave me the heebies. But admittedly, I could barely walk, feeling like an old man with too much back pain. Just waiting there face down with nothing but a towel covering my butt felt awkward as hell.
I heard the door slide open followed by a bunch of noises emanating from that direction. Noises, I can only parse as kissing smooches followed by a cartoon rendition of a bubble popping.
That's not what I wanted to hear nearly naked on an alien massage table. The sound came closer and became more frequent. It was freaking me out. I hazarded a glance up from the face hole to see a creature the size of a gorilla filling up the room with tentacles like a damn Cthulhu monster. Each tentacle was brimming with saucer-like suckers, way too many to count. It's face was like someone enlarged a catfish, painted it saturated purple, stretched it's lips a foot out from it's eyes, then gave it way too much lip enlargement plastic surgery. It was the perfect cross between a duck face selfie and that look you get when you have way too much sour candy.
It's comically long mouth smacked making the kissing sounds which I could only imagine it was trying to speak to me about how I was about to be it's lunch.
It came closer, it's lower tentacles squashing and popping as it snaked forward.
I shrieked and tried to launch myself off the bed, jostling the small wheels across the tile like floor with a squeak. But immediately, to my horror, two tentacles shot out from its mass and stuck to my upper back. It expertly slammed me back down into place. I just barely had time to tuck my chin to avoid jamming my nose in on the edge of the bed's face gap.
"Holy shit... I'm going to get eaten by this horror fest."
A few of it's tentacles pressed on my back so hard I thought it was going to crack a rib. It felt like enormous slimy spaghetti noodles and mini toilet plungers squirming around my back and upper arms. My body shuddered in disgust.
It smelled like fish that had been rotting in the garbage bin for a week. A light ooze dribbled down my sides.
The kissing sounds stopped.
I cocked my head up as much as I could to try to reason with it.
"Look I can't understand you, I don't know what you..."
One big kissing sound rang around the room.
More tentacles dropped down on different parts of my back, suckers sticking to me like super glue, and they began undulating. The up and down motion caused more pressure with each motion. It felt like it was trying to exercise my soul out through my spine. I wheezed. The air was forced from my lungs over and over like I was a damn human bagpipe.
My hands scrambled for anything I could use as a weapon. I had to get this thing off me and escape. My vision blurred washed with waves of darkness.
Crack! Crack! Crack!
"Oh..."
My back and shoulders popped as loud as fireworks during the finale of the fourth of July.
The alien thing took the pressure off me. I looked up too stunned to move still. It pushed in a panel on the wall and rolled out a large towel from a hidden compartment. Then laid it on the foot of the bed. It looked at me for a moment through it's beady fish eyes and paused.
"Uh, thank you I guess."
I sat up slowly and turned to facing it, making sure to keep my butt towel covering me. The ooze snailed down to my lower back.
I quickly grabbed the big towel, and started drying myself off. It was heated and immediately warmed me up from the chilled room.
The creature blinked, and made two more kissing sounds. It then slithered backwards until the sliding door opened with a hiss behind it, and it disappeared down a bustling hallway. I reared my arms to my hips and flexed my back with no pain.
"Oh, hell ya. Despite the near-death fright of my life, I'd totally give this place a solid four stars."
squeamish
You are like a dismissive religious,
You are correct and you know it to be true,
Wrathful when injecting your venom,
Spread the good word!
You have opened your third eye and I have not,
Anyone who doesn't see the world as you doesn't see clearly,
It must be corrected so that we too can be worthy,
No grey,
White and black must be the best channel since you never change it,
Sticky
Wade the sludge poisonous to momentum
One day at a time inching toward the unreachable
And even when there is movement much is adjacent to where I need to go
Some have never had gunk between toes and shit under nose
But I can't let that slow me down when I need every shred of confidence just to pick up the pencil
And not worry every moment about the piper calling and me bouncing up and down like a red trampoline
Did every sacrifice mean nothing will I always be pulled down by this quicksand
I know full well that every day needs to count and that it adds up
But there is more on my checklist so off I go sinking again until the day is out
And I seep my remaining energy into trying to not think about the lack
I can't let a daily escape be my only safe haven I need to work with my hands even though my tools are right out of reach
Are others like me in the same myre missing days until they grow old and fat and their creativity is drained from their brains to their toes
Until you retire and wonder where it all went why can't I tap into it like I used to
The sludge has overtaken my spirit but my will to craft is still flickering
However ones must wonder how much longer until I can step foot on the starting line and out of this fly trap
Robotic
Clinking every step feeling heavier than yesterday
Absurd other than refueling there is no growth in this chassis
Wind up the rear and surge circuits that may
Every stride shoots echos to ring about the trusses
Happy like fresh oil sad like broken charging bay
Buzz goes the fizz of the battery percusses
Shrink down into self parts lined with telescopic splay
Never wonder only move from how the creator executes us
Stained
Elevating downward to rusty nail and shaky cage
Scarred notched wood and metal dinged
Bolts line beams like buckshot
Final floor of the depths piercing bell chimes
Screaming door prys open to reveal green wisping lights that play on the tattered cloth of half dead
They beg for cannot be given
Frail grasps for ankles and wrists
Each breath is fresh dust and yesterday's pipe to coat the lungs
Sticky path with splotches of ageless gooey dark
Endless creaky jungle feeding from the scraps that leak from the cobbles above