I Love You

By Dean Moriarty

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 if you like, up to the hills where it found a dark cave and moved in.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dean Moriarty
• Release date: Aug 2, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370527816

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.

Book preview

I Love You

By Dean Moriarty

Copyright 2018

Number ten in the number 37 series

From the black books shelf

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BREATHLESS IN THE DUST

Maybe I’ve got a five year itch that can never be scratched, in the mad café of life.

Or maybe it’s that, I’m turning into what I feel: breathless in the dust.

Whatever this is, it’s got me, so that I can’t find the door anymore.

Yes, whatever this is, it’s got me to where I am on my own, kind of like some sorcerer, or perhaps a warrior, who’s lost his powers and is looking around in the grave for something to save him.

I think I shall ring the dinner bell soon, said the elevator man pressing buttons like crazy in the elevator going down.

Ah, another race to the bottom I see, and reciting his prayers at the same time.

This is your mission control speaking: metaphor number sixty seven is requesting permission to land.

Damn and blast, what are all these interruptions?

They are delusions of your grandeur coming home to roost.

I’m up to my knees at the moment; can you please come back later?

I have the feeling that you are talking to me.

Whatever gave you that idea?

I’m not sure; keep on talking and I’ll let you know.

Okay then: hiss, hissed the demon from under my bed, and gave me quite a shock, and at least one wink, later when I’d given up for the day.

A cleverly concealed Russian dancer did the knees up across the stage of my approaching dreams just then and was quite a sight as I looked about the stage of this, looking with my eyes all kind of huge like.

There were a number of nine inch nails hanging about the place, and I’d just been hired the day before to clean them up; so, blowing all my trumpets at the same time I pulled up my pants and came to believe in many things and got to work before there was an accident or something with a red tail making eyes at me.

Running here and there grabbing for a nail with my many fingers, barriers were overcome, and I made a promise to myself to get out of here soonest, and vote for someone else next time.

When the chorus girls came on I was nudged off the stage, and so fell into the wings where the band were doing a fine number and needed no help from me whatsoever; so I went home and got into the house sideways through the sticking door.

And then it was almost that time to dive into the pantry and raid whatever was there, and to hell with the consequences, I can smile later. I said this.

I got as far as the graveyard where the jabber-bird was roosting.

And then the dead were there right in front of me and asking me what I was doing in the kitchen.

I took a huge breath and climbed out the window; and then climbed right back in again, and tried to work up some kind of excuse. But the gods were not going to be kind to me and sent me a bolt of lightning to give me a bit of a shock like and to wake me up maybe.

Well, somewhere later in the asylum, I came to my senses and was withheld from my true potential in favour of the dark side of the snake.

It was here that I loosened my tie and took off my shoes, and began to toe dance like a real professional.

Maybe I’d been counting too many chickens lately, but I was starting to understand that I’d been led astray, and as I danced I began to pray for heaven.

You’ll stand where you are given, or not stand at all, said the dead.

I was toe dancing into heaven, what did I care what the dead had to say.

Tonight, something rolled across the sky, and over the dead, that don’t see any more, screamed the next day’s headlines all across the sky.

Yes, some star-ship, shining around and beaming down at me; no, the dead are dead, and always have been.

That figures.

Where did YOU come from?

The grave is where I have come from.

Are you dead?

How dead do I look?

You look as dead as a ghost.

That’s some kind of dead then?

It sure is.

We must progress ahead of this now, or forever be down among the dead.

I’ve just been bitten by something.

Where?

I can’t tell you.

What does it feel like?