Friday, July 15, 2011

This Is New

I saw Him today. It's been so long. I had nearly forgotten just how unnatural He looks. I'm not a good enough writer to give you a good explanation. But then you've all seen Him, or you wouldn't be reading this.

I was leaving Wendy's when He appeared. Right there, on the sidewalk. Nobody else noticed Him. They just walked around Him. I dropped to my knees and lowered my head. People noticed that. But I was too busy to care. Too busy fighting the nausea, the dizziness. The fast food wasn't helping.

He dropped a briefcase. That's the new thing I meant in the title. After a few minutes, my head cleared. He was gone. The briefcase remained. I picked it up. I knew He wanted me to. He wouldn't have done it otherwise.

Anyway, I have His briefcase right here. It looks sort of like the one I put in above this paragraph. The biggest visible difference is there's no keyhole. It's locked, and it can't be unlocked. Doesn't feel like there's much inside. Oh, but that's the weird part. It doesn't feel like leather. It's cold, even in the hot sun, and it's slippery. I must have dropped it half a dozen times already. It smells bad too, like a hospital.

It's unpleasant and people keep looking at me funny for having it. I don't want to keep it for long. He can have it back, and the sooner the better.

On another unrelated note, for anybody who has contacted me by email or will do so, ignore the name I gave them. It's not mine and never was. Doesn't mean anything either, not like Atalanta.


  1. Hrm. Try cutting it open? I'm admittedly curious as to what's inside.

    Also, I never did compliment you on the symbolism of your chosen name.

    Be careful.


  2. That is a very nice briefcase.

    The Mad Ventriloquist is curious about what is in the case, but if Atalanta is not meant to know what is inside, she won't. Probably. The Mad Ventriloquist isn't an expert on magic suitcases. He wonders if there's a degree for that.