Dr. Octopus, S1

I picked myself up, brushed the sand off my suit and staggered back to the platform. The sun beat down heavy upon me, scorching me like dried fruit left out on the garden table. I managed to pick my feet slowly as I ascended the menacing flight of stairs. But I kept going. My lips bore a bright red from hours of baking; my mouth was as dry as a retired hooker. I must have been under the heat for long, possibly even days.

Once I reached the platform, I dragged myself to the Tequila Cana, a small hut on the corner, surrounded by other vendor huts. It looked closed from the distance, but I still kept dragging on, kept fighting circumstance. Upon reaching it, I reached for the lock and jerked it as if I could magically open it. It didn’t budge. I was beginning to lose hope.

My feet gave out from the frustration and I crumbled down like a sock puppet onto the hot pavement. There, laid out like a rag doll left for dead—could see all kinds of mirages in the distance. The waves hovered above the platform at a standstill, frozen in time and space. Below it, right before the fall began and peace ended—was a long, thick glass of goodness, calling me out in the distance.

With my feet, melted from the heat, I reached out and grabbed the floor with my tenties. Yeah, I called them tenties right before I even reached the platform. The joke came out like an impulse of self-loathing, but more of an acceptance that nothing could be done at the moment. The suction worked great on these bad boys, allowing me to pull myself towards the mirage a few yards away. I kept reaching out and struggling for survival until ending up right below it.

I could see it, right on the wooden table, sweating bullets; frothy as ever. I grabbed the rail and pulled myself up, then jerked myself onto the stool. I grabbed the tall glass; it felt cool on my tenties so I gave it a mean sip. It was delicious.

Having come across such a delicacy in my most dire time of need was like a miracle from the heavens. I gulped that bastard down with furious anger, subduing all my mental abilities at that instance. I placed the glass down but couldn’t let it go. Working these bad boys wasn’t easy. It took careful delivery to make them work how I wanted them to, and now that I was more acquainted with them, they reacted more by thought than by force.

It almost felt as if sanity was finally coming back to me, allowing me to think of where I was. I had ben here before. Maybe two years, I had come here and spent time with someone. I tried remembering more details but nothing came up. The only visible memory was that of floating in the ocean, looking at the people up here at the platform. There was something about them, they all seemed jolly. Maybe that was the problem. No one can be that jolly in this miserable life.


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