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Preview: The Outside Turning In

Rob Hayes


Episode 1

Tue, 6 Mar 2007 01:37:35 GMT

Episode 1By IGR Productions/Christopher PetersonGenre: Cinematic Story-TellingTags: Stories story book movies films weird dark poetic poetry alternative ambient apple art arts audio bible blog blues book books business canada children christ christian christianity church college comedy commentary IGR productions Christopher petersonDownload : MP3 AudioThe first chapter in the story.  Written by IGR Productions.  Music By Christopher Peterson.  --------------------------------------- Chapter 1 -------------------------------------- What I’m seeing is another mangled bloated animal sticking to the pavement on the shoulder of some major road. What you should see if you happen to drive by right now is me crouched a few feet in front of my car, looking down on a pile of blood and fur, my hazards blinking casting my shadow across the corpse in rhythmic pumping. My cigarette clenched between my lips and the smoke colored white and nicotine yellow is burning my eyes making me squint. I’d move it but my hands are busy trying to scoop a furry ball of atoms into a cardboard box already stained with bodily fluids no longer being used. I find it hard to pass up the dead on the side of the road, even now when my watch tells me that I’m late for church I’ve gotta stop. I’ve gotta stop, pick it up, find a field and bury it. It’s the same as it as been for the past year. The only thing that’s changed is I used to go to the same field every night, my own little pet cemetery with no monuments or tombstones. But either I’m to busy or too lazy now days to find a new one. I just find the nearest field and say something decent before getting on with my own life. Last winter, I was still burying them in the special field, but when it finally snowed deep I couldn’t get deep enough to get into the dirt, so I just dug until it got rough and then put it in and covered it back up with snow. When spring came around the snow melted and thirty plus mutilated soaked animals laid there above ground. The local news made a big deal about once loved pets found in large numbers buried in the same field. The People were angry that someone was killing their pets. But they kept on hitting them, so I kept on burying them with some dignity, and I have been ever since. But since I’m already late to church I’ll save this one until I’m heading home. The church I’m going to is new to me. Every Sunday I try to go to a new church. Sometimes I go back to the same one, but that’s only if I’m sure they’ve forgotten me. It’s just not the same, if they know me. By the time I show up the last sinners squeeze into the house of God, and I follow. The sound of psalms mixed with music seems to lift and guide people to stand on their feet making it harder for their heart to pump blood. The floor is poop brown and the pews are a shade lighter, all lined up with an empty aisle down the middle. I’ve always liked sitting up front, where the hardcore church people sit. Where the people who want you to know, they believe sit. I see a space between two of these believers that I know I can fit in, up front. So I head down the aisle. On both sides of me are people standing, with their arms in the air swaying from side to side, reaching up in a symbolic grasp of God. I try and try and still can’t reach. I find myself third pew back still in the aisle staring down my seat. Politely I excuse myself and it seems like I’m breaking an invisible bond with God and the individuals I squeeze past. Finally to my seat I’m starting to notice things. Things like the immense P.A. system so the person on stage can have a booming voice like God. I’m noticing the top of the line instruments, the lights, the massive projection screen that has the words for the song in case you didn’t know it. I’m noticing expensive electronics, things that can be considered Amish porn. But now the singing is done and I’m already yawning, but a[...]

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