Seth kept one foot on Jack's back in order to keep him on the ground, and then he reached into an inside pocket of his torn jacket and produced what looked just like a hairdryer. He plugged it into a nearby power socket, and fired it at Jack.
An hour may or may not have passed for the group of them at the flat. Colours may have turned to black and white. Gravity may have been reversed. Every molecule floating around them began to vibrate wildly, each producing its own loud noise. One whole world existed inside that room and another whole world existed outside it. Numbers would add together to give colours. The distance between two objects could then only be described using the days of the week.
If you see someone being attacked, and you want to help, you would probably want to pick up a weapon that is superior to that of the assailant. But what if the assailant is trained in a complex martial art? If you're not armed with the knowledge that the attacker has, then you have no idea what use your interference would be. It's a more complex situation. For Patricia, the events occurring before her made no sense whatsoever. Somewhere between her and where Seth and Jack may or may not be, logic just didn't apply to everything the way it usually does. But to make things slightly easier, there were moments when some things seemed to become clear. Just briefly. And in those moments she thought she was able to work out how to creep up behind Seth. So she picked up the knife that was sitting on the table, and with the knife in her right hand, went to stab Seth in the back. As her right hand approached Seth, she noticed it suddenly no longer holding the knife, and at the same time she saw her right hand, another one, holding a screwdriver.
“Aarrgh!” Seth screamed. The room went silent.
When the confusion had cleared. Patricia saw that the knife had now pinned her right hand onto the torso of Seth.
“Oh no.” Patricia cried.
Seth growled, and turned to grab her. He had her by the shoulder, and was gearing up for a powerful headbutt into her face when he felt the presence of someone else behind him. There was the ghost, and in his hand was that hairdryer-like object, pointing straight at Seth.
“Oh shit.” Seth said.
Violins grew arms and played guitars. Cats sang karaoke. Mars became the furthest planet from the sun. Professional wrestlers had a tea party with the royal family. It became the norm to drive cars upside down, and the most popular mode of transport became riding on the back of a buffalo. Manakins paraded through the streets, celebrating for the sake of celebrating.
When all the confusion died down again. Jack, Seth, and the ghost had disappeared. Patricia looked at where her right hand should be to see only a stump. Without thinking, she hoisted herself up by grabbing onto the table next to her with her right hand. Then she clicked, but looked back at her right arm to see it ending in a stump again. That didn't matter so much when she saw Ben come into the lounge holding shopping bags.
“Alright I got us a new working toaster. And a hammer and nails so I can fix up your desk. And look at this – you say how you'd love cooking a whole lot more if you could do more of it yourself – it's a one-handed can-opener, that's gotta help, right? And there's catalogues of this kind of stuff. So how about that?” And he smiled at her.
***
Steam was rising from the gravel. Meteors were crashing down from the sky around us, but we couldn't see them hit the ground since we were in the middle of a large ring of high rise, elegant red curtains. By we I refer to that hipster chap, myself, and of course my old enemy.
“Revenge!” I called out to him.
“I was already living in hell.” He replied. “Bringing me here was just being a pain in the arse.”
I imagined those friends of that hipster guy will now feel a little safer without Seth chasing after them, meanwhile we'd all carry on living in a random chaotic mess of a world, halfway between existing and not existing. And occasionally we'd get to haunt their flat like a bunch of ghosts. Hilarious.
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For updates on more work being written by Brendan Cox, visit his website at https://www.brendancox.com.
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