Rooster Land — Dig Site

Recent Replies

12:10 PM 10 Oct 19
Bear replied to The Autumn of Phil
Probably.

12:02 PM 10 Oct 19
Falcon replied to The Autumn of Phil
So far I've only read the first line. It's the stupidest thing ever to appear in ...

10:28 AM 10 Oct 19
Elk replied to The Autumn of Phil
Oh, you mean you want to learn something — weird. I’m sure you can surmise what ...

10:24 AM 10 Oct 19
Bear replied to The Autumn of Phil
Because this is an interaction at least in part between the author and reader, some discussion ...

10:24 AM 10 Oct 19
Elk replied to High Places
Just be thankful we made it out with our lower middle class crassness intact.

10:23 AM 10 Oct 19
Elk replied to High Places
Either that or it was written true to a life I've lived — which I know ...

10:20 AM 10 Oct 19
Rooster replied to The Autumn of Phil
Credit the reader's experience above the author's.

10:19 AM 10 Oct 19
Bear replied to The Autumn of Phil
If we start with cutting lines before discussing any ideas in each piece, we’re at best ...

10:10 AM 10 Oct 19
Bear replied to High Places
Narcissism (noun): I didn’t see the narrator as a she because I’m a he and this ...

Recently Revised

Garden, Glass and Gun » 5:31 PM 02 Nov 19 » Horse ⟳ Horse

Ghost Chef » 8:16 PM 26 Oct 19 » Elk ⟳ Elk

The Autumn of Phil » 10:11 AM 10 Oct 19 » Rooster ⟳ Bear

High Places » 9:58 AM 10 Oct 19 » Rooster ⟳ Horse

General Store: Frozen Food » 4:27 PM 22 Aug 19 » Horse ⟳ Horse

General Store: Al Dente » 3:03 PM 22 Aug 19 » Horse ⟳ Horse

Tödderdämmerung » 10:05 PM 19 Aug 19 » Rabbit ⟳ Rabbit

Todds of Future Past » 9:24 AM 04 Aug 19 » Bear ⟳ Bear

General Store: In Attendance » 2:02 PM 03 Aug 19 » Horse ⟳ Horse

General Store » 1:49 PM 03 Aug 19 » Elk ⟳ Horse

Leaving The Reluctance » 9:50 PM 22 Jul 19 » Bear ⟳ Bear

Todd Understands » 5:37 PM 22 Jul 19 » Bear ⟳ Bear

Todd Escapes » 1:25 PM 21 Jul 19 » Rabbit ⟳ Rabbit

Go With Todd » 10:57 AM 20 Jul 19 » Rabbit ⟳ Rabbit

Barks » 11:50 PM 12 Jul 19 » Elk ⟳ Horse

Recent Haiku

The Autumn of Phil at 10:00 AM 20 Sep 19 by Bear

(Standard)

The calm cool air of fall has settled over the land like a summer breeze. I for one am an advocate of the fall, of fall weather, and much prefer it to the hot rank, the sweaty marsh that is its predecessor. No one I know likes summer better than fall – I knew a guy who claimed otherwise but he died and now we all like fall best. He was, I think, the evidence proves, a little imbalanced in thinking summer better than fall. This imbalance also and actually led to his premature death – he was a tightrope walker, and lack of balance proved a fatal flaw. It’s almost a prerequisite as a tightrope walker to not only believe that fall is better than summer, but also to have excellent physical equilibrium. I guess not everyone can do everything everyone has one believing, though I’d still like to believe otherwise.

Fall is time for considering, contemplating, musing, and reflecting. I think back to the time when Phil, my tightrope walking friend, fell, it was in the fall, now that I think of it. I had at the time been observing the nature of fall, how, if you’re careful, you’ll see the leaves change in color and eventually detach themselves from their branchy berths and fall stone dead to the ground, among the stones and dead branches, eventually to be consumed by the dirt into which all things are subsumed. That, as far as I know, is what happens, and is what happened to Phil. I’d like you to know that we encouraged Phil in his tightrope walking endeavor but also told him it was probably a bad idea, given that he seemed unable to walk a straight line even on flat and even ground. The doctors we brought in weren’t specialists, some weren’t even doctors, but they all said the same thing – Phil, you really should consider any alternative to tightrope walking. But he persisted. So we said, Phil, we get it. It’s your passion and your choice, but please practice and be patient and take things one step at a time, especially on the tightrope.

Phil’s second disadvantage to becoming a successful living tightrope walker was that he was impetuous. He’d get an idea in his head and it would subsume him like he was later subsumed by the Earth and recast as inorganic matter. You might say that tightrope walking was one of these impetuous notions, though it was an even more specific impulse that led to Phil’s tragic though not unsurprising demise. One day, before he’d ever completed any tightrope walking achievement that might be considered even remotely impressive, he conceived the idea that he would be the first person to tightrope walk over the La Brea tar pits.

I’m sure you can surmise what happened.

Yes, the cool calm fall air is upon us.

That’s something to consider.

High Places at 12:00 PM 07 Sep 19 by Horse

(Standard)

What is it like for you to feel understood? What is it like for you to feel not understood? Is it them or is it you?

Say you grew up not far from a place of learning known to be fancy. Fancy girl in ironic not fancy ironed clothes goes, “You’re not supposed to say that.” First time you ever heard you weren’t supposed to say something that wasn’t even shit, fuck, pussy, cunt, asshole or any of the other ones, just something the ivy tower spin doctors weren’t spinning and were telling their fans not to spin either. What did you know about that before? But now you were set straight. But you wouldn’t have put it like that anymore, which could be good if you knew why and simply found better ways to put.

Same time though, a not ironic fancy guy comes walking by you just when you were practicing the newthink that goes with the newspeak, and he gives you the speech about elitist egalitarianism which you didn’t know was a thing, and you totally get that too, and it makes you see the fog in the air around the tower and you just want to go home. I mean, you appreciated being set straight once, set straight again — zigged and then a zagged. But you just want to go home. Never mind the dictionary picture of disgust by fancy girl once at the place of learning party with subsidized drugs, who said, “You teach at a private school?” Ironiclast! You didn’t know you were supposed to be doing Americorps. You really didn’t. Never mind the anti-egalitarian elitism Alex P. Keaton who zagged you, either. Never mind how far you could see from the tower, which you started to not be able to see from. How far could you see from home?

Anyway, so couple years go by. You bump into fancy girl and she’s in line with Keaton guy for the big bank job sign up sheet. “Consultants get to travel a lot, so.” She’s holding dude’s hand, and you’re like what the fuck. Shit. Assholes. And the other ones. There would be private jets for them. There would be reunions when they didn’t talk about what they were and weren’t supposed to say anymore. They would just be living. Like I was before I met those assholes. Me, not you. I don’t know a damn thing about you. I wonder if they felt understood by me?

One day years later, I run into fancy girl and she tells me, “You were the one who told me to just be myself.”

Dammit, if I can’t trust myself, can you?

General Store: Frozen Food at 4:24 PM 22 Aug 19 by Horse

(Standard)

(The frozen food section. A woman in sensible slacks pushes an empty cart through the aisle, searching for something she hasn’t seen in the freezers and simultaneously looking around the aisles. A heavy set female clerk carrying a price check gun walks by, humming along to the elevator music.)

Excuse me.

Hi, can I help yooou? (exaggerated smile)

Yes, hi, I’m looking for frozen ravioli. And I seem to have lost my husband. He was wearing a blue flannel shirt.

Oh, sure, follow me.

(Together they walk aisle after aisle of assorted frozen boxes. Finally they turn to a freezer, heavily coated in ice. The heavy set clerk motions.)

The ravioli is in the next aisle, but here’s your husband. (Cut to man in freezer, fully in ice.)

Thank you. Now can you tell me where I can find space heaters?

Sure, follow me.

(Cut to moments before above scene)

Greg Brady wearing a blue flannel in hardware. A robust, chesty lumberjack of a clerk with a square pencil behind his ear is leaning back on a counter, arms crossed, eyeballing the customer.

Need anything?

Yes, in fact. I’m restoring a Lancia-Abarth Quadriflux and I’m having an issue.

Let me guess – the inlet valve port is caked up and you’re not getting consistency in your spark plug.

That’s it, essentially. They really crammed the plug in there.

I’ll say, but given the crossed cylinders I don’t know where else it would go.

Don’t get me started. Have any suggestions?

Well, we have a nanoparticulate requonometer that some guys will use to test the plug while it’s installed. Have you taken any heat readings?

I did two week’s worth, every fifteen minutes for five hours a day. Last week I used a warm salt bath as well.

And?

Everything checks out normal. By the way, I’m looking for my wife? Can you tell me where the frozen food section is?

General Store: Al Dente at 3:03 PM 22 Aug 19 by Horse

(Standard)

(Continue the sound of suction from automated doors. Cash register registering. The low hum of elevator music.)

(A narrow aisle, appearing all the more narrow due to the height of the shelves and the high fluorescent lighting, emanating from an unseen source. A middle-aged man, with an average yearly income of average proportions, of median intelligence and physical attribute, is standing nearly still and staring nearly straight up, craning his neck to see what there is to see in the upper reaches of the fully stocked toothbrush section.)

(A skinny side-burned clerk carrying a mop ambles by, whispering first into one of the man’s ears, then the other.)

Shhhhh…

(The man tries to adhere for a moment but is forced by the oddity to turn his head toward the clerk, who is mopping, or feigning mopping.)

Excuse me?

Okay. It’s okay. Totally cool, man. Everything’s totally cool.

What’s cool?

The situation, man, the situation. Cucumber, capisci?

Um, yes. Okay. Yes. Um, thanks.

(The clerk turns suddenly toward the man, pulls right up to his ear, whispering harshly.)

Yeah, it is okay. That’s what I’m trying to tell you, Sarge. Eyes straight forward. Wait for my mark.

What are we talking about?

Like you don’t know. I saw the way you were looking at the toothbrushes. You know the deal.

Do I?

Listen, we both know. The whole thing’s a…

A what?

What? Who’s that now? (Steps away, looks around, eyes darting every which way, then sidles back, whispers more harshly)l

A scam!

(A moment passes)

Listen, why do you think there are 87 varieties of toothbrush here? Keep in mind, each and every one approved by the American Dental Association. It’s a SCAM!

(A moment passes)

I’m not sure I understand.

I’m sure you do. Here, take my card. (Hands a man a business card – it reads Leonard Njordian, Unlicensed Dentist.) I’m on break in fifteen for fifteen – meet me in books in twenty and I’ll lay it all out for you in ten. You’ll never look at a toothbrush or your teeth for that matter the same ever again.

(Leonard begins walking back down the aisle from whence he came. The customer watches him go.)

But I only came in for a toothbrush!

(Leonard speaking without turning around.)

So did I.

The Workshop

Rooster Land is a private and pseudonymous writing workshop. You're currently located where the writers come to work. A selection of their pieces are elevated to superfeed status and made publicly readable on a rolling basis. You may want to start there. But certainly feel free to look around while you're here, or to open and travel.

Fellow writers may view all content, including replies and revisions, and partake in the discussion. Want to join us? Get a sense for how it works — everything from intellectual property to punctuation — then write The Rooster.

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