M∆RO breathed heavily as he wiped the sweat off his forehead, straightened himself up and took two steps back.
The sun was blazing on this beautiful June afternoon. M∆RO had to use his flat hand to shade his squinting eyes and actually see something.
There it was, M∆ROs magnum opus in its entirety – a real masterpiece. M∆RO felt great. Filled with pride, peace and contentness.
In the same moment, the smogabord of feelings – induced by the pure sublimity of his achievement – suddenly flooding his entire body, were so overwhelming, that M∆RO uncontrollably bursted into a relieving mixture of crying and laughter.
War of Mine
After a long and exhausting but even so rewarding trip, M∆RO tiredly, but thoroughly self-contented, collapsed into the old creaky rocking chair on the front porch of his small, but super-cozy house on the beach.
The incessant chattering seagulls that settled down on the porch’s handrail, promptly cleared off, as M∆RO racily popped open his well-earned beer.
Or was it that daunting rumble from the dark and surrealistically purple-tinted evening sky, that quite-suddenly made them fly away?
Just before M∆RO finished his thought about the obviously wrong weather forecast this morning, another, even closer and louder rumble made M∆RO cringe. Hem stepped off the porch to check, where that eerie rumbling noise was emitted from.
What M∆RO then saw, sent a chill down his spine. He dropped the beer and after a short state of shock, hastily rushed back into the house, frantically stuffing as much important and valuable things into a backpack as possible and started running…
Dance for me
„What a fucked up day!“, M∆RO muttered to himself, as he was roaming about the streets, armed with a bottle of booze, when on top of it all, it started to pour.
„I could really use a diversion“, he thought, after almost passing the entrance of the only nightclub in town.
Digging around in the left pocket of his coat, revealed crumby leftover pieces of half a pill, which he promptly washed down with a determined gulp of his cheap hooch.
M∆RO shuddered, gently placed the half-full bottle on the sidewalk, wiped his face clean, with his sleeve and concentrated on appearing somewhat sober, while passing the bouncer.
Inside, he was repulsed by the swirling crowd of euphoric cheerful people. Finally the attractive, but seemingly on the edge and miserable barmaid, got M∆RO the cocktail, he had ordered ages ago. He offhandedly tossed the exact change on the counter and eagerly reached for the pleasantly decorated drink, which he expected to ease his frustration.
But just before M∆ROs shaky hand touched the glass, the fellow right next to him jumps to a sweeping turn to greet his buddy. Unfortunately M∆ROs object of desire was in the range of motion of this testosterone driven salutatorian choreography, performed by these two party animals, and was ruggedly swept off the counter. Annoyed even more by their slurred apology, M∆RO uttered a „F**k it!“ and turned around to face the dancefloor and watch the hustle and bustle.
Suddenly the feverish swarm and those pulsing colorful lights appeared to calm down, awaiting instructions.
As if it were the most natural thing in the world, M∆RO raised both hands and moved them in a forced perspective above the crowd, like a puppeteer.
All the while whispering smugly under his breath: “Dance for Me, Dance for me!”
Once upon a time, in a dark and boisterous age. In a town, shrouded in the darkness of a very dark and stormy night – midnight, to be exact – concealed deep down in the basement of a weather-worn house, which seemed to be devoured by the eerie shadows of the dark monstrous tree next to it.
Behind the heavy doors of a dar…. dimly lit laboratory, completely secluded from society, M∆RO – with his wild hair, dressed in a gray knit jersey and an oversized purple scientists coat, was desperately fiddling with some grotesque machine, trying to achieve the ultimate low frequency sonic experience, when out of nowhere lightning struck into the house’s two-headed weather-cock…
Excited and full of juvenile recklessness, M∆RO turned the handle of the large, sturdy looking Metal-Door at the end of the extensive corridor in the basement of the Pandorum Company.
Ignoring the huge door-mounted sign, that unmistakably prohibited access for any trespassers, which fully applied to M∆RO.
The door unwillingly cleared the way with an unpleasant creaking noise, granting sight to …well – nothing.
The room was pitch-black, almost supernaturally dark. As if any light emitted from the flickering strip lights in the corridor was completely absorbed by it.
M∆RO slowly took one step into the room and groped around for a lightswitch on the left and right side of the entrance – without luck. M∆RO took his cellphone to use the display or the built-in flashlight to shed some light into darkness. But apparently the battery (had) died.
“Pull yourself together! You can’t turn back now!” M∆RO reproved himself.
“This must be the room, the weird old man was talking about. Here I will find all the answers and information about that…that incident” M∆RO encouraged himself. He tried to somehow accustom his eyes to darkness – but without success.
Driven by curiosity, M∆RO braced up and carefully proceeded further into the room. Suddenly, a familiar, harsh creaking sound from behind, cut through the dead silence, immediately followed by the deafening sound of the door slammed shut.
Now, the only reference point had submerged into darkness, as well.
M∆RO stood there scared stiff, his heart in his mouth.
At that same moment a vibrant purple light flooded the whole room, repelling the ominous gloom and revealing the interior of a somehow generic archive room. As it seemed the salvaging shine was emitted from a computer screen in the corner to the right.
M∆RO approached the computer desk with caution and took a seat on the worn office chair in front of it. After his eyes had compensated the brightness, he looked at the dusty CRT-monitor that showed a huge purple Delta symbol on a black backdrop and below it read: “Do you want to know, M∆RO?” with a flashing underscore next to it.
After a moment’s hesitation, M∆RO slowly typed Y-E-S with his index finger and pressed Enter…
The weather was just right, with almost no clouds in the sky and only a gentle breeze whispering across the sandy shore that separated M∆ROs cozy residence from the endless blue.
M∆RO just stood there, eyes closed, steadily breathing and full of pleasant anticipation, as the vague noises from far grew louder, forming an awe-inspiring crescendo of sounds, expected to climax into the meaning of everything.
M∆RO put its head back, eyes still shut, while he eagerly spread its arms like wings to welcome the wildly onrushing salvation.
Just a second before the impact, M∆RO took a deep breath and immersed herself into the roaring Waves of Pink Noise.