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Oliver D. Bernuetz's Stories

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Companionship.  That’s what I like the best about the worms.  Now I’m never alone.  They’re always there squiggling around.  (Best?  No, not best – worst, worst, worst.  GO AWAY!) 

No, it’s okay.  They don’t bother me….much.  They said any eye surgery has risks associated with it.  What’s a little retinal detatchment between friends?  Quick, quick, quick, zap, zap, zap and everything’s all better again!

And better than better ever was!  Worms, worms, worms!  They go in, they go out, the one’s that go in are lean and thin, the ones that come out are…   No, no, no.  Wrong worms.  These are gentle little swimmy worms, swirling around, back and forth in my wrong eye, no not my wrong eye.  My. Left.  Eye.

They’re just blood.  Right?  Blood that leaked in through the cut and now has nowhere to go since the nasty laser sealed it up.  Blood writes things doesn’t it?  Little squiggles that form letters? Blood writes us!  No, that’s DNA.  De-oxy-ribo-nucleic acid.  That’s what writes US.  Not blood.  DNA tells us what we are.  How tall, how fat, how thin, how hair coloured.  How now brown cow!  DNA writes us.  It doesn’t write us bad or good.




Does blood write us bad or good?  The worms write me.  They write me lyrics.  They write me epistles.  They write me missives.  They write me mission statements!  They write me…bad?  Example.  Out driving.  Dog crosses road.  Caution/kindness tells me slow down.  Squiggles write me----FLOOR IT!  I put the pedal to the medal.  Dog done.  (Dog’s don’t have ponytails, do they?)

Mine eye offends me but where would I be without my wormies?  Who will write me love letters?  Who would I be without their advice?  A better man, a kinder man, a lonely man.  Ever since the blood stopped swirling randomly and started writing things in my eye.  Backwards to you (and any right thinking person!!!!!) But forwards to me.  They tell me things and I think.  I think.  I think they script my dreams. 

I wake up screaming now.  Every morning.  But I don’t remember much.  (THANK GOD!!!!)  I don’t remember my dreams.  (Can you wake up from dreams with your hands and bed soaked in blood????)  I have plans now.  I was shiftless, loan less, loam less, life less.  (Lifeless?  Like, NO DON’T REMEMBER.  DO NOT EVER REMEMBER!!!)

I have plans now.  Goals now.  Ambitions now.  Things to do.  Places to go.  People to…

I think it’s time to go now.  Busy, busy schedule.  No time to write.  I’ve got an axe to grind.  (So nice and sharp!)  A gallon or more of gas to pour.  And things to burn.  Oh look, they’ve written me a to do list.  How thoughtful of them. 

Last updated October 07, 2016

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