ELECTRIC EYES by Marcus Speh

missed the bus today. hung out at the stop for a bit, then drifted into thoughts of alien spaceships fighting over the last women on the planet. i wondered if all things were what they seemed to be. buses for example. they might be highly intelligent metal creatures but we look at them as things, created for a purpose. or let’s look at something not made by man, like snow. it just seems to fall to earth for no reason in particular, every flake like every other flake. which is only true as long as you don’t look at them more closely. then you realise that each snow flake is like an entire world unlike any other. and if you look even more carefully, with microscopes that haven’t been invented yet, you see that these snow flake worlds are populated by millions of tiny men, all frozen. one breath of warm air from you and they’d come alive for a moment as short as they’re small before they melt, disappear and enter a place where you can’t go, at least not on a bus, which finally came. i sat down on the green bench of this bus. i growled at an elderly lady who wanted to sit next to me. i looked out the window at the winter wonder world, and i spat this whole mental monolog out on the ground like a piece of gum i was done with. out on the slushy, thawing ground covered with silently screaming snow people. i closed my electric eyes and relaxed into the ride.

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15 Comments

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15 responses to “ELECTRIC EYES by Marcus Speh

  1. Al McDermid

    Very cool. Is that where you mind really goes when you miss the bus?

  2. It is snowing outside, and I am looking at the snowflakes in a new way! This was great! Thanks!

  3. i enjoy how the bus ride is such an enclosed tomb and otherworldly space in this piece.

  4. Just awesome, Marcus! Love the snow people, particularly since I’m currently reading Twain’s “Mysterious Stranger” and am in the part where the boys first meet and the stranger creates a small world. Nicely done!

  5. Len

    this has a great tone, hovering, then floating. i loved the imagery and the narrative imagination. felt like i was reading ken kesey’s diary. well done.

  6. The way this was written, how the thoughts jumble together and the punctuation and lack of capital letters all run together, makes me think of the train of thought of one of those scruffy men you see hanging out at busstops sometimes. The part where he growled at the old lady really brought that image home. Nicely told!

  7. Kim Hutchinson

    Love this mental monologue. You’re a master at the form!

  8. So perfectly MS in all its brilliance…form, prose-poetic mastery, inner-outer monologue, dazzling word choices. Can I spend a day or two in your brain?

  9. the first time i saw this point, i thought ‘what a title’, but then marcus pulls it off!

  10. loved this on your blog and fn and love it here, love the stream of consciousness and great take on the theme. whew. peace…

  11. I am having flashbacks from my days working in mental health … which I always found strangely enjoyable. Thank you, Marcus.

  12. Pingback: Week #31 – Missed the bus | 52|250 A Year of Flash

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