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| (visual by warm summer nights via this license) |
dispatch eleven
Oikos by Adam Moorad
debuted 1 September 2009 | kept 1055 times | click to keep
behind-the-scenes footage 
“Well you shouldn’t be,” Lamb says and pinches her arm. When he touches Amy’s body he thinks about his own and looks at his abdomen. His skeleton is rapidly decomposing. He is in a cold casket in some far away field. He shivers. He sees his flesh dehydrating and disintegrating. Worms crawl around the casket walls. They look at him and are revolted by his presence. Slowly, they edge away. They are sick and nauseous. Lamb is sick and nauseous.
“I don’t have a boyfriend,” Amy says. “I have a roommate I share a bed with who I feed and clean up after.” Lamb and Donny laugh. Lamb looks at Amy. She is smiling but her eyes flutter. Conveying neglect, looking ordinarily tired. She sets her purse on the couch and stands between Donny and the television screen.
“What the hell?” Donny says. “Move it. I’m about to die.”
“Let’s go to a bar,” Amy says. She doesn’t move. “I had a hell of a day.”
“Big surprise,” Donny says. He presses pause on the paddle. Sets it on the floor between his legs, exhales, admits defeat. Amy laughs. Donny shrugs. His shoulders look heavy when he does this.
Lamb feels temporary sympathy. He walks over to the refrigerator. Opens it. Searches for alcohol. There is nothing. He opens the freezer and finds an old water bottle half-full of Jim Beam. He takes the bottle and puts it on the counter. Opens the refrigerator again. Rummages around for something to mix with whiskey. A carton of soy milk. A can of seltzer water. Nothing. Lamb realizes he has forgotten to drink anything alcoholic for several consecutive days. He feels healthy and decides to give up drinking. He will exercise every morning before work. He will eat more vegetables. He will floss more frequently. He will become a better person with a greater lung capacity. Lamb looks at the wall and imagines the cells inside his brain multiplying. Growing larger. He feels smarter. He stands with his eyes closed for five minutes. He places his hand on his heart. It is beating gradually. He wonders if his pulse is strong for someone his age. He counts the beats in his chest. Loses count.
There is shouting when Lamb opens his eyes. Donny is jumping in front of the television. Donny says, “Finally. Thank you God.” Lamb stares at the sink. Blinks at a stack of dirty dishes.
Amy, puzzled, watches Donny from the kitchen, still jumping. She looks at Lamb standing in the kitchen looking at the dishes.
Lamb looks away. Sulks. Takes the bottle in his hand. Walks to the couch.
“You won?” Lamb says. He rubs his eyes and tries to focus. He stares at the bottle and wonders what to do. He smells the contents. His spine stiffens.
“Did we decide to go yet?” Amy says. She stands and walks over to the sink, picks up a plate, drops it. It thunders against the sink’s hollow basin. “Where are we going?” she says.