In the hall of mirrors, Detective Cud Wilson didn’t know who looked worse: the corpses hanging from the ceiling or himself. His brown suit jacket worked too well with his zombie make up. This was what he wore most days. At least with the make up he looked less divorced. He avoided mirrors when his daughters were with mom. He was missing more then. A ghost limb instead of a fake one.
“Pull off my boots.” I walked toward her and she lifted her left leg high in the air and I pulled off her boot, setting it down on the floor near her drawing table. Her other boot met me as I rose up and I pulled it off and dropped it down to make a pair.
By the time I dropped my assault pack on the terminal floor and hugged her, it felt like my arms were wrapped around a memory.
Of all my days at war, I never dreaded rolling out the gate more than I did that morning. It was my first time in a humvee in two weeks, and I was once again in the driver’s seat. Last time I touched the steering wheel, my drive ended on top of a pressure plate IED.
I spent years blaming myself for not seeing the signs. What kind of son doesn’t notice that his own mother wants to end her life? I poured over my memories like a football coach studying reels of his defeats.
The subtle deviation of mere seconds of arc in your flight logistics will, over the years, cause you to arrive in a vastly different quadrant of the galaxy than you had originally plotted for.
I was too clever not to notice that I was being constantly tested. I saw them on the first day. They wanted to know if I loved my Solar Cat™.
I do not love my Solar Cat™.
There are moments of great shame in Las Vegas and New Orleans, where you look at the desired object, and you feel guilt because you want nothing more than to just stand and stare. You want to remain, gaping open mouthed, watching it occur in front of you, to not do anything about it—just spectate.
There’s a surrealist parlor game called “Exquisite Corpse”: each person writes a sentence only able to see the line immediately preceding it. In partnership with MN Original and NE Art Attack on November 8, 2014, Revolver’s created “A Moveable Corpse,” a Traveling Exquisite Corpse Detective Story Game.