music cues, a panicked, whiplash-inducing glance for the exit. sinking feeling of impending doom. hands stiffen, drop the can of corn nibblets and smack over ears with vice-grip of death. a futile gesture of resistance “Aaaaaaughhhhh!!! Make it stop! Must…get…away…from…Wham…”
Last Christmas I gave you my heart…
complete sense of pure unfiltered dread momentarily drowns out all sensory input and cognitive processes, auto-pilot violently, abruptly overrides manual control. interfacing, specifically and most importantly control of motor functions, is shanghaid, limited to only sensory input. bashing head against the steel extrusion of the shopping isle, chikkabwaayayayang-ing, a diving board, and canned Green Giant creamed-corn jumps down, a bludgeoning rain. this is strictly a base level reaction of the nervous system to a powerful stimulus
…And the very next day, you gave it away…
optic sensors spot the massive, carefully crafted ziggarut of bread down the lane, legs start building up speed toward the objective
…This year to save me from tears…
continuing to build up momentum… targeting system locks onto dead center of pyramid, dives in with hands tucked at side for optimal aerodynamics, flying vertical with face leading first. slightly distorted greyscale stock footage of a tomohawk missle, from its POV, converging on an iraqi bunker jacks into the optical feed and
…I’ll give it to some one special…
tactile senses slice their way to the front of the line. face feels the soft give of opaque plastic bag and 5 fat slices of japanese white bread for 1/100th of a second, followed by the unexpected solid, unyeilding corner of the green ABS plastic milk bins, the hidden foundation, braced by the L intersection of the white-washed concrete wall and freshly waxed linoleum floor. the sizzling electric fuzzy hazed crunch of nose being coerced into the nasal cavity completely drowns out the bouncy thud of the body hitting the black and white checkered linoleum
…Special!
all signals lost for an infinite, unending moment, drowning in an infinite crimson tempest of noise. slowly, easing back into control of the totaled hulk of wreckage… a wave breaks, an uncontrollable urge to go sing Wham at karaoke crashes over, and recedes just as quickly. adrenaline buzz burns away, but endorphins start to kick in… ah, Christmas in Japan has come again, the slightly muted, warm, salty, excruciating pain helps bring into focus the original objective of a visit to the supermarket: now where are those blasted chocolate-strawberry Hello Kitty Christmas cakes?
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