by Feng

last night, C and I decided to take a walk. At some point, there was a hilly knoll, where someone had to take a pee behind a friendly tree. At the bottom of the hill, which was fuzzy with knife grass, lay a violin case. We opened it. There was nothing but dark brown velvet. I closed the case. We continued on our merry way in the camera dark under a blue bridge and saw a haggardly figure hovering in the distance. The figure was holding a violin case. I said ooo, look, now this is going to turn into a horror movie, because the night was close and the figure was vibrating as if it had trouble decision making, which sometimes means that it is waiting. We came closer. It was a woman. The woman came closer. She wore a bandana on her aged forehead. As we came within a few yards, the violin woman suddenly flew at us like a vampire from a bad TV series and from inches behind said IT WILL ALL STOP SOON. IT WILL ALL STOP SOON. My adrenal squid glands squirted ink. I AM HERE AND I WILL ALWAYS BE HERE YOU CAN’T GET RID OF ME. I WILL NEVER GO AWAY. WHY DON’T YOU WRITE THAT DOWN. 

She followed us for a few minutes. We made no eye contact. I thought about the word violin and the word violence.