Rooster Land — Todds — Todd Is a Tiger

Title: Todd Is a Tiger

Logged: 19 Aug 15 (Wednesday in the PM)


Time: 1 minute

Replies: 2

Revisions: 2

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Todd is a tiger. He prowls the mountains of sugary snow, silent as the pause between television commercials. Through jagged peaks and soggy valleys he surveys the whole of his world. It is a deep sweet bowl. His orange and black stripes offer no camouflage here. They’re for entertainment purposes only. He’s supposed to stick out.

Todd is a toucan. With the talons on his feet and one of his anthropomorphic hands he clings to the side of his palm tree and points his multicolored beak down to a realm of swirling rainbow galaxies, each a cloying world of its own, waiting to be destroyed by way of a metal spoon and a boatload of milk. He waits until he can distinctly smell each wonderful flavor before winglessly swooping down his slide into a garden of corny inspiration. He lives each day like it’s his first.

Todd is a leprechaun. With eyes as bright as freshly poured cream he runs through a mushy liquefying forest. Falling from his overstuffed pockets are the treasures of the universe. A multitude of shapes and colors which, when arranged just so, unlock the secrets of the ancients, rolling back the sour scum of the earth and breathing delicious new life to a world amassed at the other end of a magical rainbow. He will never stop running, for he will never stop being pursued. Not unless there are drastic changes in this world, that is.

Todd is a vampire. He rules his dark empire alone from an impenetrable chocolate castle. He throws his head back with a cackling laugh as he thinks about all the fools who find false solace in fake bright colors. It is the saccharine promise of artificial minds. Truth runs like syrup through his Transylvanian concavity. But when the sun comes up and breakfast is served, he might as well be toast. Despite his laugh, being alone there in the pre-dawn enclosed by a blackness darker than the deepest recesses of the largest closed cabinet, he cannot be complete.

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Nota Bene

"No one says a novel has to be one thing. It can be anything it wants to be, a vaudeville show, the six o'clock news, the mumblings of wild men saddled by demons." – Ishmael Reed