Jesus Reincarnated Before My Eyes

Dernberger Spengleton,
Tender to The Grand Conveyor

Note from the editors: Dernberger Spengleton remains trapped within The-Castle-About-Which-The-World-Rotates. He has been unhappy and without visitors. He has not written for The Times since his entrapment. The following letter was found outside his “castle”, which, from the outside, appears to be a windowless van made from stone.

AMHERST, Massachusetts -- My narrow mail slot is my window into the grey world. I have not learned how to rotate the Grand Conveyor about my stationary castle. So I am stuck near what was once the infamous Drake Hotel. Various mobile homes had set up camp near my spot.

What I see daily is dirty, monotonous smog, and sloppy, belligerent people, saying dirty things, disparaging each other and trashing the world. This was not the life I wanted.

I can only hope that my wife, who prefers not to be named, trapped me here for a good reason, and that there is another good reason why my friend Theodore does not come to my aid. It seems to be a place where the rabbits have no diamonds in their holes.

But, in all of this monotony, I have seen one spark.

On a cloudy day -- A bright, unbearable light emerged from the heavens. It descended from the sky encircled by hummingbirds with angels’ wings. Heavenly songs filled me with life. All of a sudden, there he was: Christ in the Flesh, having returned to earth before my eyes.

I wondered if my friend Theodore’s Novelty Society had acquired the attention of the Gods.

But this apparent Christ landed in something other than a pool of holy water. Instead, he landed in my neighbor’s 3-foot kiddie pool filled with liquor. Christ proclaimed, “I wash myself of my sins and begin a new life,” before dunking his head under the brown, stinking liquid, in which a squirrel carcass floated. Christ swallowed a mouthful and choked and coughed.

To my dismay, I witnessed our lord and savior’s face turn purple and his lips plump. He shrunk smaller; he grew purpler, until he disappeared under the water. I yelled for help.

My fat, drunk, shirtless neighbor, Larry, stupored toward the pool. “Who in the darn thinks they tough guts enough to drink from my man puddle?”

Larry swashed his hands throughout the pool. “Where the heck?? Where’d ya go? Oh, there ya are! I gotcha, you fucker!”

Larry wrangled with what I expected to be a shrunken version of Christ, but what emerged as a white-haired, bright blue bearded smurf. Larry grabbed the creature by the leg and tossed him ka-plunk onto the grass. “You scedaddle now, ya bastard, and don’t come back,” he said. And the smurph ran off with its short little legs, towards Orchard Hill. I haven’t seen him or Christ since.

For more articles by Dernberger Spengleton, click here. To get in touch with this writer, email spengleton@surrealtimes.net.

POST A COMMENT

See Also

Want to read more news? Click here for a random article.