Tuesday

Jeff woke up violently into a bed sputtering and flailing for purchase. It was the bed he had fallen asleep in the night before. Wiping saliva off his mouth, he inspected the bed with great care, paying special attention to the grain of the wooden posts. He was astonished that they were the same, but gradually came to accept their verisimilitude, though if they remained identical to their previous state much longer he would be venturing into known territory. On the other hand, he noted that the toaster had satisfactorily evaporated, though the kitchen remained ominously intact. Opening the refrigerator, he took out a can of orange soda, emptied it onto his face and rubbed it into his skin. He went to the door and opened it to find four conscious decisions waiting for him on the doorstep. The first was only a sapling, but as soon as he ignored it, it grew out-of-control all over the landscape until soon it had sprouted a platoon of angry policemen, so right then and there he went back into the house to gather up any contraband that had generated in the night. He found whistling kettles full of boiling venison corroding the grout in the bathroom and eggplants growing in the marijuana. He put them all in a big box and mailed them to the post office. When he checked outside again the coppers had withered on the vine, falling where they stood into the flower beds to begin rotting slowly in the heat, their nightsticks jutting out to cast shadows you could set your watch by.

The second decision was extremely upset with his wife, so much so that it had been neatly pruned to leave a nice thick trunk with just a couple of branches near the top where eagles might nest. He called up the phone but it was on leave in Afghanistan (peace had just broken out chaotically all across Asia) so he used his eyes to find her instead. He used his eyes in every room of the house but they were taciturn and far from being the “team players” they had made themselves out to be in their application. Sitting down on the bed, which mysteriously remained quite identical to itself against all odds, he despaired. His wife was a real piece of work. He suspected she was a heterosexual. The signs were all there, what they told you to look out for, but he didn't want to believe it. But he was angry at her for other reasons. Yes, for other reasons. These reasons floated about cordially within his head for a while, introducing themselves to each other and making inappropriate jokes to ease the tension. While the reasons were still getting to know each other, Jeff went next door to see who lived there, bringing a tent with him in case he needed some privacy. Skipping over, he found a man standing in front of the door about to ring the bell. Jeff paused to watch. The man wore a sharp looking jacket and had a green reticence clinging to one of his shoulders like a falcon. He rang the bell with his elbow and bared his teeth ferociously in anticipation. No one came to the door so Jeff said, "I admire your jacket."

The man turned around and said, "Would you like a drink?" Jeff said he could go for some coffee.

"Coffee," the man said, "never heard of it."

Jeff felt himself becoming giddy. "In that case I'll have a double espresso."

"Follow me, the machine is out in the garden." The man opened the door to the house and gestured Jeff inside. They walked through the house, which was very nice. The floor seemed to be a single huge sheet of marble and all the furniture had price tags which had large numbers printed on them. When they got to the rear of the house, there was a large window which looked out on the garden. When they reached it the man picked up a sledgehammer and began to draw it back. Jeff begged him not to shatter the glass, but the man said it would be better this way and after he shattered it Jeff had to admit he was right. They went outside and sat down next to each other in a large armchair. The man said his name was Tom and took a glass from a cart and put a hand rolled cigarette in it and gave it to Jeff. He took a sip and while he didn't think it was very good he made a little "ah" noise and thanked Tom profusely. Tom blushed, such was the incredibly heartfelt nature of Jeff's comments, then, almost as an after thought, he made one for himself and set it on the arm of the chair nearest to him.

Jeff took another sip and said, "Do you know how to order a divorce?"

"From me?" asked Tom.

"No, from my wife. She does not exist."

"That's a relief... I mean... not about your wife of course."

"I understand what you meant," he said reassuringly. A slight pause. "She was probably a heterosexual anyway," he added.

"Oh dear," said Tom, who then took his glass, pulled the cigarette out of it and put it between his lips and lit it on fire with a match.

"That's an interesting way you have of drinking," said Jeff.

"I invented it myself," he said with the air of someone who invented such things all the time.

THE END