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Squid Man (standard:other, 1138 words)
Author: AJAdded: May 30 2001Views/Reads: 3560/2340Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A brief introduction to Squid Man, the madly charismatic character known and loved by all...you can't read Squid without him becoming a part of you.
 



Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

Squid Man didn’t want people in his car.  But somehow, after leaving
diners, the gang always piled in.  And Squid Man didn’t complain.  Some 
people preach the wisdom of never wasting words.  Squid Man believed in 
wasting all of his words.  He limited himself to short, stupid, 
meaningless sentences, and hoarded his brilliance inside his head, 
where he pushed his thoughts back and kept his mind as blank as 
possible.  They said that one of the reasons that he exuded such allure 
was the fact that all his thoughts were sealed inside of him, giving 
anyone around him a feeling of standing next to a dormant volcano. So 
he never said anything when the gang got into his car.  He threw his 
cigarette into the snow.  The snow quickly went to work on the butt, 
like termites, nibbling away at the last scanty burning flakes of 
tobacco that clung to the filter, the dregs of the smoke. 

His car smelled of cigarette smoke, and featured a plush carpet of ash. 
There was no radio, because Squid Man never listened to music.  Ever.  
And he only ate apples and white rice.  His car had piles of white 
Chinese food takeout cartons, some full, and some empty, in the back 
seat.  He had mesh bags filled with apples, which he ate entirely, 
skins, core, seeds, and stem.  Squid Man was lean and long, with no fat 
or muscle tone hampering his tall skeleton.  The hollows under his 
cheekbones and eyes were charcoal smudges. 

No one expected anything from him.  The only thing that was a
requirement for Squid Man was to share his space with those who wanted 
to feel his glow of perfection.  And this was the hardest thing for 
Squid Man to allow.  He wanted to be alone.  He didn’t want a gang, or 
a posse, or an entourage, or disciples. 

Squid Man didn’t understand anyone who thought he was wonderful, because
he didn’t think anyone was wonderful.  All he thought of was staying 
empty.  Sex was important, but not if it required thought, the same 
went for food, cigarettes and everything else.  If Squid Man had had 
goals, his goal would be to devolve into the mindless creature that 
first crawled out of the sea. 

Squid Man would leave Apple Valley, because he wanted to leave.  His
gang would follow, because they wanted to follow.  He would eat and 
smoke and fuck and sleep because that was what he did.  He would not 
think or converse or connect.  He was not the Second Coming. They were 
wrong about Squid Man, and they would never realize it. 

His space would never be his own.  He would never see the stars. 


   


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