By Nienke Schellinkhout Diaz and Babet Klaassen.
The Useless Lock
The Useless Lock looks across
his street. It was jammed with cars being loud as ever.
“I feel so damn rusty! I hate
mornings. How many mornings have I spent here anyway? Hanging on this brick
wall? If only someone would use me. To be honest, I’m so rusty, after all these
months, years, I don’t think they can open me… let alone notice me.”
He sighs. The cars walk off.
“Finally, those loud bastards are g…” The
lock’s heart skips a beat.
“Bloody Nora! Where’s the
graffiti lady? Shit! Oh fuck, they cleaned her!”
A few weeks ago the graffiti
had appeared on the wall opposite. She was nice to the lock.
“Aah I can still remember that
face, she told me it was Stephen Hawking. And the text underneath her face made
me feel so much better. ‘Because I am worth it, aren’t you?”
He notices a bit of paint on
the street, the only thing left of the graffiti.
“You! Hey you!” the Lock yells.
The paint looks up indifferent.
“Why’s she gone?”
“Fuck you!” the paint replies,
“You think I’ll be your mate? You’ve never noticed me, only her! Now she’s gone
though!”
Facebook Robot
It’s not that no one sees us,
it’s that no one takes the time to look.
Things have improved since we
locked the stuffed animals in a jar. We cannot hear their screams now, they are
sealed off from the rest of us. I never liked stuffed animals, their soft
fluffy texture repels me.
PDthingsyouwant. But who ever
takes into consideration what I want? To be fair, the Queen Elisabeth in pink
to the far right does sometimes. Last month we had a quite nice conversation
about the disfigured deer head up the read, and I really felt like she was in
on my opinions on the matter. The Queen Elisabeth in yellow is a right bitch
though.
Disfigured Deer Head
Silently I scream. I can feel
the orange hat tickling my ear, it hurts. From the corner of my eye I can see
the tiaras, they glitter brightly when the sun hits the window. I don’t think
there is anything I wouldn’t give to wear one of those tiaras. That’s the
thing, the monkeys don’t understand feeling out of place like I do. I am not
the kind of deer who wears an orange hat, I am the kind of deer who wears a
tiara, and purple eyelashes. The monkeys are content wearing their stupid
sunglasses, grinning like idiots. They don’t feel my pain.
But that’s peanuts in
comparison to the gargoyle situation. Ever since they got involved, and yes, by
‘they’ I mean that damn crocodile, ever since he got involved it has all gone
downhill.
“Oi, quit your whining!” says
the monkey on the right.
“You don’t know what it’s like,
you simple primate, you wouldn’t understand how soul crushing it is to
constantly have your masculinity questioned by a gargoyle situation just
because you prefer to wear a tiara or a fur coat!”
“Aye, shut your mouth. Pubic
hair? Not around my neck!”
“You don’t have a neck, you
berk.”
The Handprint
“I remember the hand that made
me,” the pink handprint says to the text next to him, THING.
“It was big, short thick
fingers dripping with pink sticky stuff.”
THING laughed, “Yeah it was a
bloke, bit mental. You know that wedding cake next door? “
“Behind bars?”
“Year… ever noticed it’s pink
too?”
“Come to think of it…”
“Well the bloke had broken in
and tried to steal the cake, but he was caught and had to run, but they pressed
him to the wall. Cuffed him right here.”
The handprint cannot believe
it.
“Are you telling me my maker is
a thief?!”
THING looked away. “I’m sorry…”
“I wish you hadn’t told me
that. I used to like to remember that hand. Now I know it was a thief. And that
I’m just a bit of that fugly old tart! Oh Jesus!”
“Really, I’m sorry…” said
THING.
“Look Nienke, the Stephen
Hawking graffiti has been removed. Let’s take a picture of that.”
“Ooh yes, and I think there
might be some interesting things in the shop window across the road.”
“This robot! And those Queen
Elisabeth dolls!”
“Babet look over there in the
jokeshop. A disfigured deer head, and monkeys in sunglasses.”
“I’ve never noticed there were
gargoyles on top of that building, have you?”
“No! Can you get a picture of
the crocodile?”
It wasn’t that no one had ever
seen them before, it was the fact that on that sunny morning, those two girls
had captured their souls with their cameraphone.
From that day on, the Facebook
Robot, the stuffed animals, the Queen Elisabeths, the Useless Lock, the
disappeared Stephen Hawking graffiti, the paint splatter, the disfigured deer
head, the monkeys with sunglasses on, the gargoyles, the weddingcake and the
handprint would forever be silent.
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