The poor girl, on platform shoes so high she’s left herself susceptible to a host of ills, including; but not limited to; altitude sickness, a dislocated hip from trying to out-lean the pizza tower and edging her already strained pelvic floor muscle towards a spasmic haermorrhoid, but at least she looked like champagne, on a beer budget, a gasquillion squallars from the ankles down… bump.
Hihallo.
My name is Paisley Pilchard, and at the moment I’m here in me proverbial high tower still susceptible an observer of me own spasmodic thoughts, hanging around the mall with me mate Taurine, observing the populace, cuz that’s what we do when we’re not at school or helping Dad.
Taurine and me live in the shire at he foot of that big misty mountain, you know the one, that big elegant elephant in the room, with Dad and me older brother Jesse, who’s always off doing something relentlessly important like trying to save the world from its problems, but I also know Jesse is secretly doing something more partisan, like that fella Che Guava-rah-rah, blowing up train tracks with dynamite or some other puissant parable. ‘Vader’s invaders’ he calls them, “with their pompous bluster and wordy diatribes”, increasingly starting to sound like me brother I am. Blustering barnacles.
I should probably say that Taurine, or ‘Taurs’ as I call him, is me bestest mate as far as invisible oxes go. Dad would correct me here and say “it’s oxen Paise, cuz oxes are those two metal rods that drive the wheels underneath an Afrikaans gentleman’s car”.
Dad named him Taurine after ‘taurine’, the amino acid that helps to kickstart and grow those robust little draw-bridges in the brain which make you smarter, and also because taurine has antioxidant properties, which means it helps keep you clean and healthy under the right balance of natural circumstances, even though antioxidants, like oxidants, can also kill you, given the wrong alignment of accidents in the occident ironically misaligned by supplements such as Buddh… erm…
…where was I?
The only reason I remember that word ‘antioxidant’ is because it contains the word ‘ox’, which Jesse says it’s my natural ability for word association. I have mode idea what he medians. My brother is a very ‘wordy’ guy, and even though he talks a lot, I love him to bits, but it’s one of the reasons I hang with Taurs, cuz he pretty much puts me on the way to smartness and keeps me clean as I don’t execrate half as much as I used to, as you can tell from me swear jar which is looking more like a gold fish bowl nowadays… but without the goldfish… and the water… and the faux plastic seaweed and fake treasure chest.
I reckon without Taurs I would have easily called the platform girl in the high shoes a yo-yo, but now she’s more like a doe. Sometimes my mind occidentallly slips into other word ass-ociations with random farm implements but Taurs would then give me a little bump – bump – like he can read my mind and I’m like to myself; ‘whoah, you’re so right Taurs, she’s most def a bro-yo.’
I love Taurs. I reckon while the world’s on the gin, he’s more like me oxygen. Inspired by Jesse’s Cartesian antics we too surrey off, or is that tumbril? to go and do some partisan stuff of our own from time to time. I’d borrow a can of silver spray paint from Dad’s Vintage car shed and get him to stand inside the underground train tunnel against the wall and I’d spray paint him. Ofcourse the paint never sticks to Taurs cuz he’s made from dark matter, so it just leaves a sorta silvery halo against the grimy black brick tunnel in the shape of a glowing ox.
And then we’d have to run ahead of an angry train or some other cuneiform in uniform. Sometimes we’d make it back and stand inside the crowd listening to the listless lashings of the platform people as they stare and wonder at the shiny outline of Taurs, and then, whenever someone would say; “hey, that looks like a cow”, I would immediately correct them and say; “that looks like an ox if ever I’ve seen one mate, get off the grass.”
I’m at school most days. Dad fills in the other gaps in me life, homeschooling me a bit in the morning and before I go to bed. He’s very interesting me Dad, and soooo super intelligently smart. He often speaks in riddles cuz he knows I like to discover, unravel and pick things apart like the time I almost accidentally disembodied that muon he’d made, lepton me just say, I almost wouldn’t be here writing to you.
But mostly Dad just snuggles and cuddles me like he was some over-sized, lovable, excitable hairy dog and I was meat flavoured. I love him just as much as I love Jesse… who says he’s going to marry me someday when I’m all grown up and bumped out, super weird I know, and of course Taurine…bump…and together, we laugh and dance to Jesse’s large vinyl collection, we cook and feast on the smallest of meals, and when we’re caravanning, we collect the things people throw away, like bottle-tops, sea glass and lenticulars, and when we’re not doing all that, and when we’re not sleeping…
…the four of us are looking for you…
…me mum.
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