by Henry Littlefields
The parking lot had four cars in it. My friend, Edmond Yorkshire, and I counted them. Three of them were facing the street. The other was facing the opposite direction. I do not remember what it was facing. I think there was a dumpster somewhere in the back corner of the parking lot. I vaguely remember noticing scattered trash and thinking I might see a raccoon. Edmond Yorkshire pointed out that one of the three cars facing the street was crooked. There was a bumper sticker on the back that said, “EET TH FUK.” Edmond and I laughed. I don’t know why we laughed. The sticker did not make sense to me. Maybe Edmond understood it. This car did not follow the painted yellow lines. The other cars were displeased by its insubordination. They had followed the yellow lines for years and in due time were rewarded with middle class lifestyles. All this seemed in danger now. They peeked over their white picket fences and were afraid. Ignorance followed. They said things like, “Is there no place left where our basic liberties aren’t endangered?” and, “The lines were put there for a reason,” and, “What is ‘EET TH FUK’?” Edmond agreed about the lines. They were put where they were put for a reason. I had some semblance of an idea what those reasons were, but I figured I was uninformed to the deeper philosophy of the situation. This naivety didn’t bother me though. I shrugged my shoulders. Instead, I was curious who was responsible for the lines. I wanted, just once, to see them make their art. Off to the side a dozen shopping carts chatted. A few more wandered. These were the loners, society’s most basic form of counter culture, strayed from the flock. They looked at their feet and wondered if someone would remember them tonight. I can’t remember if they actually belonged anywhere. I do not remember a store being associated with this parking lot. I’m positive there was a store, but I don’t remember ever seeing a store. I’m not sure why Edmond and I were there. It seems odd now. You would think we would have had a reason to be there. I remember turning to ask Edmond, but he was leaving. I followed him as he crossed the street. I think I said, “Raccoons?” He went into a basement. I followed him. There was more than one building across the street from the parking lot. Edmond Yorkshire went to one of the basements and turned on a light. We were in a laundry room. He opened a washing machine. He took off his clothes and started one up. There was space left in the machine so I threw in my clothes. We were both naked. We pretended to be tigers so it wouldn’t be awkward. We were arctic tigers. A polar bear asked us what we were doing. It threatened us. It threatened the whole basement. We had no choice but to trick the bear and behead it. We stuffed the head in the dryer. Later we both sneezed and the snot froze to our noses. The sneezes came one after the other. I don’t remember whose came first, but it was sometime after we ate that polar bear.
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