Photo finish Friday: “Mugged”

Out of the darkness it stared at him, mocking his every desire.

Out of the darkness it stared at him, mocking his every desire.

Bob. That’s what we’ll call him now: Bob. He doesn’t remember his name and he doesn’t remember much else — except for that sock monkey mug. He said it was a gift, but he doesn’t remember who gave it to him, only that one day he found in among his — well, you know — socks.

He said he tried giving it away. First to friends, though he can’t remember any of their names or where they live or what they do for a living. He then tried to sell it to a collectibles shops, but nobody wanted it. They didn’t even want to take it for free. If you could have seen how matted and grimy and foul-breathed Bob was when the police picked him standing on a corner of Central Street trying to give the mug away, you’d know why nobody wanted to take it from him. And the harder he tried to give it away, the less anybody wanted it.

Only when the officer agreed to take the mug from Bob, did Bob willingly, even politely, climb into the officer’s patrol car and the officer took him to the special intake center. And that’s how we wound up with Bob and his mug.

We tried on several occasions to get rid of the mug. All attempts failed. Either the mug mysteriously (magically?) reappeared, or when Bob noticed it was missing, he refused doing anything until it was returned. This despite him saying he wants rid of it. He says, “If I could, I would never see it again.”

But somehow Bob is linked to the mug and the mug to him. He says in the middle of the night it tells him things, such as the two handles aren’t handles and they aren’t ears either. They are arms the sock monkey controls and uses to strangle people.

We have asked him how he knows this and he says since the mug doesn’t really have any ears, it talks a lot without knowing what it is saying.

We asked Bob if the mug has told him the names of those it has killed and where the bodies might be found. Bob says not yet, but he is listening for any hint or clue the sock monkey might give him.

So, we all sit and wait. There aren’t as many of us now as there once were. We’re not sure where the others went. Bored and quit we think. Tired of waiting.

Did you hear that?

That low….

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Filed under 2015, photo by David E. Booker, Photo Finish Friday

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