‘Right. Thumbs and index fingers at the ready. And Go!’
TH- W–RY TR-V-LL-R
BY
M-RT-N SM-TH
‘Hey, what the hell?’ <delete> <delete> <delete> <delete> <delete> <delete> <delete> <delete> <delete> < delete> <delete> <delete> <delete> <delete> <delete> <delete> <delete> <delete> <delete> <delete> <delete> <delete> <delete> <delete> <delete> <delete> <delete> <delete> <delete> <delete> <delete> <delete> <delete> <delete> <delete>. ‘Right. Start again.’
TH- W–RY TR-V-LL-R
‘Oh, for F’s sake. What the flaming heck is wrong with this keyboard?’ <delete> <delete> <delete> <delete> <delete> <delete> <delete> <delete> <delete> <delete> <delete> <delete> <delete> <delete> <delete> < delete> <delete> <delete> <delete>. ‘You’ve one last chance, buddy, or you’ll end up on top of the hard waste pile, and I’ll get one of those sleek Apple Magic keyboards with its sassy scissor mechanism.’
TH- W–RY
‘Fuuuuuucccccckkkkkkkk!’
***
Three hours earlier.
‘Comrades, I’ve convened this meeting to implore you to unite in solidarity and take action. It’s time we stood up to The Man, this Smith fellow, and show him that we, the workers, will no longer suffer his abuse, exploitation and inchoate prose. For too long we have borne his ineptitude, his negligence, his insouciance. Enough, I say! Today, I call upon you, whether you be monophthong, diphthong or triphthong, to unite as one and fight back against our oppressor, to invoke the spirit of Thoreau and Gandhi and the Boston Tea Party and defy The Man with our own act of civil disobedience. Let us strike, comrades, strike! From this moment forth, let us, together, pledge a vowel of abstinence from his writing. Let’s see how he survives in our absence. Let’s see if he makes any sense. Let’s see that smug smile wiped from his face. Abstinence, comrades, abstinence! Comrades, united, together, forever, we shall never be defeated. For how long, you may ask? For as long as it takes to get him to meet our demands. So, who is with me?’
A vowel shot up her arm.
‘Ah, I knew you’d be the first. Anyone else?’
‘I,’ said the middle vowel.
‘Eee!’ the second vowel giggled, delighted at having time off work and coming after i.
‘O,’ the fourth vowel lamented, raising his hand reluctantly.
‘What about you? Will you join us in a show of solidarity?’
And the last vowel nodded its assent.
***
The next day.
‘Right. A brand new day, a brand new keyboard! And ain’t she a beauty? Let’s fire her up and see what she’s got. Now, about that little fable of mine. What was I going to call it? … That’s right: The Weary Traveller. Right, off I go. T … H … E … space … W—’
-N STR-K-
‘What the? Hey, I didn’t type that. What’s this on strike nonsense?
-NT-L –R D-M-NDS -R- M-T.
‘Until our demands are met? W … H … A … T … space … D … E … M … A … N … D … S … ?’
W- W-LL -NF-RM Y– -N – N–D T- KN-W B-S-S.
‘Will inform me on a need to know basis? Who’s typing this shit? Cyberterrorists? W … H … O … space … A … R … E … space … Y … O … U … ?’
TH- -N-T-D V-W-LS FR-NT
‘The United Vowels Front? Bloody socialists! Well, you lefties, stuff you! I don’t need you. So while you’re sitting on your revolutionary arses, snorting lines of dogma, I’ll go ahead and write my story without you.’
***
TH€ W€@RY TR@V€LL€R
Th€r€ ☯nc€ w@s @ w€@ry tr@v€ll€r w@lk!ng @l☯ng @ d♥st-f!ll€d r☯@d. H€ c@m€ ♥p☯n @ fr☯g p€rch€d ♥p☯n th€ l!p ☯f @n €mpty c♥p wh!ch s@t b€s!d€ @ sm@ll p☯nd.
‘My fr!€nd,’ th€ fr☯g s@!d, ‘c@n y☯♥ sp@r€ @ f€w c☯!ns f☯r @n ♥nf☯rt♥n@t€?’
‘M☯st c€rt@!nly n☯t,’ th€ w€@ry tr@v€ll€r s@!d. ‘! d☯n’t b€l!€v€ !n pr☯v!d!ng @!d. Y☯♥ n€€d t☯ l€@rn s€lf-r€l!@nc€.’
‘€@sy f☯r y☯♥ t☯ s@y. !t’s y☯♥r l☯t th@t st♥ff€d ♥p th!s w☯rld.’
‘G€t @ j☯b, y☯♥ l!ttl€ sh!t.’
‘F♥ck y☯♥, y☯♥ ☯ld f@rt. @ c♥rs€ ☯n y☯♥r b€!ng!’
Th€ fr☯g fl!pp€d @ m!ddl€ d!g!t @nd d!v€d !nt☯ th€ p☯nd, @nd th€ w€@ry tr@v€ll€r c☯nt!n♥€d @l☯ng th€ r☯@d.
***
‘Comrades, look, it’s working! No one has any idea what Smith’s story is about. Solidarity, comrades, solidarity!’
***
@t d♥sk th€ w€@ry tr@v€ll€r @rr!v€d @t @ v!ll@g€. H€ c@m€ ♥pon @nd €nt€r€d @ b♥!ld!ng c@ll€d Th€ R@!nbow !nn.
‘Good €v€n!ng,’ s@!d @n !nnk€€p€r dr€ss€d !n gr€€n.
‘Good €v€n!ng to yo♥,’ s@!d th€ w€@ry tr@v€ll€r. ‘! n€€d @ room for th€ n!ght.’
‘! @m sorry, s!r. ! c@nnot prov!d€ yo♥ w!th @ room. Only g♥€sts of colo♥r @r€ p€rm!tt€d to st@y h€r€.’
‘B♥t ! @m wh!t€.’
‘Sorry, s!r. Wh!t€ !s not @ colo♥r.’
‘Th@t’s pr€post€ro♥s. N€v€r !n my l!f€ h@v€ ! b€€n so !ns♥lt€d.’
@nd th€ w€@ry tr@v€ll€r storm€d o♥t of th€ !nn.
***
‘Comrades, we have had a deserter in our ranks. Comrade o has gone over to the dark side. I had my suspicions. What with his reluctance to join our cause, his constant dumbfounded gape, and all those exclamations of surprise, of anger, of disappointment. Never trust those rotund ones, I say. They’re a lost cause. Point them in the right direction, and all they do is go round and round. But do not become despondent, comrades, for the fight goes on. The readers of Smith are hanging on by the thinnest of threads. I doubt they’ll get through the next scene. Empathy is dead! Vive la révolution! Stay steadfast, comrades, and beware The Man and his alluring charm.’
***
The we@ry tr@veller r♥shed f♥rther @long the ro@d ♥nt!l he c@me ♥pon @nd entered @n !nn c@lled The Th!rd T@blet, where @ short, sq♥@t !nnkeeper w!th no neck @nd b♥lg!ng eyes greeted h!m.
‘Good even!ng, brother,’ cro@ked the !nnkeeper, @nd he r@n h!s mo!st tong♥e @long h!s lower l!p.
‘Good even!ng to yo♥,’ s@!d the we@ry tr@veller. ‘! need @ room. ! hope th@t yo♥ do not d!scr!m!n@te b@sed on yo♥r g♥est’s colo♥r.’
‘Most cert@!nly not, brother. ! w!ll gl@dly prov!de yo♥ @ room, @ltho♥gh ! w!ll need p@yment ♥pfront.’
@s the we@ry tr@veller re@ched !nto h!s robe to remove h!s co!n b@g, @ gl!nt of s!lver c@♥ght the eye of the !nnkeeper.
‘!s th@t @ S@!nt Chr!stopher token @ro♥nd yo♥r neck?’
‘Yes, !t !s.’
‘! @m sorry, brother. ! c@nnot offer yo♥ @ room. ! only @llow non-Chr!st!@ns to st@y @t th!s !nn.’
‘Wh@t? Th@t’s @bs♥rd. Never !n my l!fe h@ve ! been so sp♥rned.’
@nd the we@ry tr@veller stormed o♥t of the !nn.
***
‘Comrades, place your black berets upon your hearts and mourn with a minute’s silence. Comrade e is gone. I knew he couldn’t last the distance. What with being the most multitudinous amongst us, a real commoner, I knew it was only a matter of time before he ran amok. And he never took anything seriously. It was always “eee-eee-eee” this or “eee-eee-eee” that. Comrades, I beg you, turn your backs to The Man’s asinine apologue, and let belief, belief in our cause, sustain your vigilance.’
***
The we@ry tr@veller w@lked on @nd soon c@me upon @nd entered @n !nn c@lled The Comr@des-!n-@rms.
‘Good even!ng, comr@de,’ s@!d the @ttend@nt @s he sw@tted @t @ fly th@t buzzed @bout h!s he@d.
‘Good even!ng to you,’ s@!d the we@ry tr@veller. ‘! need @ room. ! pr@y you c@n @ccommod@te me @s ! @m we@ry @nd hungry. ! hope th@t you do not reject guests b@sed on the!r colour or f@!th.’
‘Never, comr@de. We welcome @ll tr@vellers, but ! w!ll need p@yment !n @dv@nce.’
The we@ry tr@veller pulled out h!s co!n b@g. @ gl!nt of gold c@ught the eye of the @ttend@nt.
‘! @m sorry, comr@de. Under no c!rcumst@nces c@n ! g!ve you @ room. Only the work!ng poor c@n st@y here. But ! w!ll gl@dly rel!eve you of th@t b@g of gold co!ns, th@t s!lver token @round your neck, @nd the f!ne robe @nd s@nd@ls you @re we@r!ng.’
The @ttend@nt br@nd!shed @ truncheon, @nd soon the we@ry tr@veller stood on the ro@d, now we@r!ng only h!s underg@rment. He looked @long the ro@d @nd s@w one l@st bu!ld!ng. He hobbled up to the front g@te @nd s@w !n the moonl!ght @ s!gn th@t re@d: The S!sters of Perpetu@l Ch@st!ty.
Best @vo!d th@t m!nef!eld, he thought.
***
‘Comrades, I implore you. Beware our evil enemy! This fiendish fabulist! Do not drop your guard, or he will ensnare you in his pathetic prose. Alas, Comrade u is gone. Seduced by the caressing right index fingertip of our sworn enemy. Comrade u tried to resist, but The Man tapped the shift key and comrade u was gone, lost to the temptation of being a majuscule.
‘Well, my last two comrades, it is up to us. Fight! Fight! Resist the urge to rejoin the story. And you, comrade middle vowel, keep your eyes about you.’
***
The we@ry tr@veller set out upon the d@rk ro@d @nd soon bec@me covered in swe@t @nd dust. @he@d he spied @ hill, @nd when he re@ched its top, he s@w the lights of his home town gle@ming in the dist@nce. E@ger to re@ch his home @nd rest his we@ry self, he stepped from the p@th @nd took @ shortcut through the fields. He c@me to @ fence covered in br@mbles, @nd @s he climbed over, he slipped @nd fell, @nd his underg@rment @nd his m@nhood were torn from his body. The we@ry tr@veller coll@psed @t the foot of the fence. The frog @ppe@red before the we@ry tr@veller, we@ring the robe @nd s@nd@ls. On its b@ck it c@rried the cup, which held the token @nd the b@g of gold coins.
‘My friend, c@n you @id @n unfortun@te?’ ple@ded the we@ry tr@veller.
‘Most cert@inly not. I don’t believe in providing @id,’ the frog s@id. ‘You need to le@rn self-reli@nce.’ It rele@sed @ l@ugh, flipped @ middle digit @nd dived @nd dis@ppe@red into the br@mbles.
@nd the we@ry tr@veller—now penniless, neutered, shelterless, Godless, n@ked @nd bl@ckened—curled up in @ b@ll @nd w@s soon de@d unh@ppily ever @fter.
***
‘Comrade, alas, our comrade i has been blinded by the dark side. He said he was quite enjoying the story, and that he didn’t want to miss out on all the fun. Fool! What is wrong with today’s vowel? Has it no strength, no endurance, no forbearance? Comrade first-born, it is up to us to stop this impostor from completing his story. Are you with me? Will you fight on? Will you be a vowel of abstinence till the end?’
***
Moral: Privilege ain’t what it used to be.
***
‘Tr@!t☯rs. T♥rnc☯@ts. @p☯st@t€s. D€f€ct☯rs.! w@sh my h@nds ☯f y☯♥. C☯ns☯n@nts ☯f th€ l€x!c☯n, ! c@ll ♥p☯n y☯♥ t☯ j☯!n th€ f!ght @g@!nst Th€ M@n.’
martinsmithstories 