Eddie the Straw Man
By sparkler
- 483 reads
The underlying subject matter was essentially theatrical. The straw
man had luxuriant facial hair and spectacles. Ironed-out seam down his
front. Genitals like potatoes. She held him firmly by buttock and
shoulder. It was midday, the best time to take a photograph. On the
stage was a pile of magnesium raked into ridges. In a minute the
photographer would light one ridge to provide chiaroscuro, that
all-important sense of drama.
In the meantime the straw man's ankles were buckling. She lifted her
knee to support his other buttock and turned to face the camera. It had
taken her three weeks to make him, using the exact measurements of her
dead husband Eddie. The undertaker was understanding when she said she
needed some time alone with the body. She measured the width of Eddie's
shoulders, the length of his legs and chest, the circumference of neck,
thigh and bicep. Then she drew a razor from her pocket and carefully
shaved his beard and moustache. At night she sat her creation in the
window - in silhouette he looked completely convincing. She felt
protected.
The photographer looked out of the open doorway, holding a smoked glass
to his eye.
"Perhaps you would like to rest?" he suggested. "It'll be a while
before the sun comes out again."
She lowered her knee and straw Eddie fell heavily backwards. Dust rose
as he hit the floor then disappeared through it.
Eddie fell through sky. Sackcloth billowed upwards revealing his
perfectly preserved corpse beneath. The speed of his descent caused the
head, the only completely artificial part, to fly off into the distant
mountains. As he got closer to the ground Eddie slowed down.
Anti-gravity. He came to a halt suspended above a dromedary farm
bridle-path.
The strong perfume of lemon geranium radiated from the pointed leaves
of a bean-stalk, the spinal cord of an alien. Unlike in humans, the
spinal cord was attached to the creature's nose. The alien communicated
entirely through smell. Lemon geranium was not good news for Eddie. It
meant that he had been found guilty of gluttony. Horse-shit mixed with
hyacinths was the sentence. The alien did not realise that Eddie was
already dead.
Back in the photographer's studio magnesium flared. They had completely
forgotten about Eddie.
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