Another Book

By Dean Moriarty

“Ah, are you in touch? Can you move a mountain with your tongue? Have you heard a rope tighten like a cord stretched too far as if it's about to break? Have you ever heard a mountain cry with its teeth?
The full moon came and went yet you still want to believe, but that's a hard rocket of concern buried somewhere beyond all concern. And then to stumble and sneeze like a rocket and know you are beyond your concern, yet you still want to believe and play a handsome tune for the crowd who come to listen.
Growing old sneaks up on you while you’re living and you don’t notice it until it’s too late.
Then it’s time to forget about what’s been lost and write the memoirs in the time that’s left.
The Yeti’s asleep on the foggy beach and the holy nail is saying its prayers as the cloaked dagger slips by in the shadows and the lesbionage of a number ten bus three crows short of a straight line calls you to come home,” said the rusty prayer out on the night.
“Amen,” said the meow cat.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dean Moriarty
• Release date: Jul 28, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370447374

Dean Moriarty

What do you do when nothing seems to be working out? Most of my books are about that place you come to when you’ve reached the desert of all you know. When nothing seems to be working out and you find there’s nowhere left to go. When all you’ve tried has come to nothing and no amount of effort brings your goals any closer and where the questions you ask appear to drop dead at your feet. When all has become a grey mist about you populated by the ghosts of all you once loved; where do you turn? I turned to writing books.

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Another Book

By Dean Moriarty

Copyright 2017

Adapted to fit by Rory Blue-dream and the scary circus

Published by the open wound

Distributed by a man in a long black coat

Thanks to the Chilly Dinner company who supplied the grub without which this book would never have been written.

This book is dedicated to Number 44

ONE GRAIL AFTER ANOTHER

Blue Jane Sunday was swinging through the wet trees of an old dream in the rainforest of her mind and was tending towards the purple outfit that complimented her nose rings that never sang in the quire and said so for the whole world to see.

But she did have a soft spot for the electric shower who’d open his arms whenever she came close and offer her an appellation to chase away the blues.

An open wound that had never quite healed still had a tendril attached and wouldn’t let her go and was playing tricks with her mind and keeping her stuck in a place she really wanted to move on from, but no matter how she played it the old dream kept coming back uninvited and she began to think that maybe she was cursed.

She’d tried the usual things such as riding her bike really fast, talking to her friends and getting blind drunk but to no effect and was now out of ideas.

She liked her new boyfriend who was hovering and would be gone soon if she couldn’t get out of the hole she was trapped in.

An answer came in the form of a travelling healer who was passing through town and who bumped into her in a dark doorway one night, just as she was lighting up.

After the usual chit chat about nothing they worked their way in to what was bothering her and by chance the healer had a sharp scissors handy and offered it to her and told her to use it on all the cords of attachment she wanted to be free from; and then with a brief kiss to the winds he was gone leaving her with the sharp scissors and a half formed instruction manual that was almost glowing in the dark.

Going backwards too often can leave you with some bad habits that won’t be slept off and usually creep up on you when you’re not looking and no amount of scissor work will keep them at bay for long, so when three days had gone by and all her troubles were just a pile of cut pieces surrounding her and still the old dream was coming for her she began to despair of ever finding a solution, and by now her boyfriend was looking somewhere else. She really didn’t know what to do.

Her doubts were huge and had a strong hold on her and were not going to let her go no matter how much she pleaded.

The sword of doom laughed from every dark doorway she passed through and made her feel even more insecure.

But time, that thing that seemed to be endless beckoned her on to put one foot in front of the other and to keep on moving one grail at a time, one mountain after another until.....

B&B

The nameless secret agent called Mustapha Mustabeen was speeding along in his car that didn’t have a sail when he spotted a girl in a long grey coat who looked to be his type and was hitch-hiking with her thumb out. So with no regrets at all he pulled over and leaning across the seats opened the door for her.

An hour later she still hadn’t said a word, just stared through the window of her soul into the pouring rain as if transfixed that way by some heavy spell, but no worries, it was a good night to just be.

Three weeks later and they’d reached the mountains, and still although nothing much had been said between them, on her part anyway, they made a good team in the small things of daily living.

The car on the other hand was spluttering a blue streak and ready to give up the ghost of all its heavenly glory and lay down forever in the long grasses of any dream that would have it.

Between two passes at the very top the car gave a last cough and coasted to a halt outside of the Inn at the top of the world, a B&B for the discerning traveller where a good sleep will see you up early and yawning with the gods.

Twelve hours later they were both fast asleep in the only bed in the only room available in the Inn at the top of the world where the gods are always yawning.

Down below in the retail commodities market, stocks were going up and down mysteriously in the index quotient of the banks that was not so steady on second glance but gave off the impression of a volatile football praying to the religious gods for salvation but receiving only political verbiage for its troubles, while the newspapers screamed death from the mad bomber who was famous by now with all the coverage and had ten sons by five virgins and a machine gun in a box under the stairs.

None of this made any difference to the two asleep up in the mountains with the gods looking down and yawning and encouraging them to wake up and join them to watch the sun rise.

After breakfast and with the bill paid they sat in the car and released the hand brake.

As the car began to pick up speed coasting down the long hill at the top of the mountain that was a hundred miles to the next town so far below, the couple sat back and stared out of their windows.

Fifty miles later the brakes wore out and the car with nothing to stop it broke the sound barrier as it passed through the town at the bottom and right out the other side to fly up the next mountain to the top where the couple hopped out to catch their breath and shove a rock under the wheel to stop the car rolling down the other side.

A small bucket of cement that had gone hard years ago and was lying abandoned beside the road watched the couple without a word and didn’t really care much either way about anything these days so that when the couple jumped back in their car to roll off down the mountain hill it went back to staring at the sky and all the passing clouds that didn’t care much either about what went on at the top of the second highest mountain in the world, for if they hadn’t seen it all before they knew that some-day they would.

For weeks the couple in the car travelled through the mountains in this way until one day they reached rock bottom and the car finally coasted to a stop and would not go any further.

It was time to walk and as they did so the radio in the car wailed a rock and roll song until it was so far behind them it became lost in the mists of time.

BEFORE THERE WAS NOBODY HOME

Nobody home but the cats crawled out of a dark cupboard on the third pass and went back to boiling glue on the stove and found it had all boiled away to a sticky layer on the bottom of the saucepan that was now a superglue and could stick anything together forever.

Two inches higher than the average man boo-boo couldn’t resist what any of this all was worth and so took a nightcap on top of the chilly that was backfiring and what with all the fumes in the kitchen was soon no longer at home.

For the rest of the day and night the student house became a strange place of dark shadows going this way and that with none knowing how to even stand on their feet.

Eventually hunger drove them all to the kitchen where the glue from the saucepan was passed around until they were all stuck together in an amorphous mass of heaving bodies.

Over the next few days the fumes from the superglue ate all their brain cells until there was only one brain cell left which was used to get them or it up to the hills where it found a dark cave and moved in.

DOWN IN THE VALLEYS

In the deep Welsh valleys where a cum-by-yur was a song and sixpence, champions were two a penny and hung about in every doorway or sat on every step and would work at the drop of a