Please Help

No update this week. If you're reading this, please pray for John Fiocco and give any information you have on his disappearance to the police or any of his floormates.

For updates on the search for him, please get your news from the signal at this link: http://www.signal-online.net/home/. I implore you not to believe anything you hear from any other news outlet, and in consideration of his family and friends, not to repeat any of these things either.

Leaving

The boy arrived at the beach for prom weekend, his friends and his hopes of drunken debauchery and freedom in tow. He had been accepted into a fine college already, stretching smiles across his parent's faces. They dreamed.

Their son, with his hair slicked back gets into a fancy sports car and drives to his massive office, where he moves millions with hand gestures.

The boy's thoughts stretched forward in time to college, where he would learn business in cavernous lecture halls from shriveled professors. He thought of these things while consuming alcohol and engaging in intercourse and swimming. Sometimes while his friends participated in liquid absorbtion competitions he would look out the window at the waves as they climbed up onto the shore and dragged the beach backwards with them. Beyond them he saw ships stocked with sailors bound for shores just beyond the fog of distance. The boats, like rickety bridges between them braved the swirling storms of tides and currents beyond the horizon. As he saw this he felt the waves pulling his spirit out into the open ocean.

That night he took part in an orgy of vomit and other bodily fluids and fell asleep beneath a pile of bodies. He listened to them breathing together like a single enormous organic being. Eventually his eyelashes drew together and met. He dreamed.

In a classroom, he takes notes from a chalkboard and swallows the paper on which he writes them. His mouth is dry. Suddenly the windows burst and seawater floods into the room, filling it. As the water rises to a dooming level, the boy struggles to escape it, flailing appendages in many directions. Stopping, he floats upward motionless, and inhales as much as he can.

When the being comprised of his companions awoke, its many eyes could not find the boy. It stretched its tentacles across the beach, probing for him. After a time it departed from the beach, and the boy was deemed lost.

The boy had boarded a boat in the early morning, leaving the shore to whither in the ocean mist. He was a grain of sand or a pebble now, tumbling into the water. The smell of the sea filled his lungs with new passion, which he left to the waves and the wind to direct.

The Fisherman

It was a warm afternoon on the shores of the Sea of Galilee, at the time when Herod Antipas was Tetrarch of what is today northern Israel. I had just finished my work for the day, and was pulling a rather light net in from the water. I frowned at the vision of my wife scolding me for the poor return on the day's work. A sudden gust of wind prompted me to turn around. A man was standing behind me, but I did not recognize him. He adressed me with a voice loud, clear, and comforting:

Come, follow me.

I looked at the man, scouring my memory for who he was and how I had come to know him. He continued:

I will make you a fisher of men.

I laughed, and told him that my family would throw me into the street if I brought home men for them to eat. His expression didn't change. I peered into his face, attempting to match it to one I remembered, but the sun seemed to shine directly into it, and all I could discern of his features in the brightness was a wide grin and a pair of unnaturally kind eyes. Despite the intensity of the light on his face, he did not blink, and his gaze was unwavering. I found I could not hold eye contact with him for very long. Despite this, I felt incredibly comforted by his presence, and while this nearly led me to go with him, the thought of abandoning my hungry nagging children grounded this notion.

I apologized to the man, my head down, and politely declined his invitation. He said nothing, and simply smiled at me knowingly me with those kind eyes and walked away, down the beach toward a pair of other fishermen. When I turned back to my nets, I found to my amazement that they were full almost to the point of bursting with fish. Bewildered, I turned to look at the stranger again, but I could only barely make out his, and the silhouettes of his new companions in the light of the setting sun.

Caged

Mr. Fisk made his way down the street, avoiding everyone he could. The buildings loomed over the street, casting a shadow that crept slowly forward as the day went on. The shadow had a repelling effect on pedestrians, and space on the sidewalk grew ever more sparse as it advanced.

Fisk was unaware of all this, his mind rooted to events two days in the past, events which had caused a cancerous fear to grow inside him. His eyes grew yellow and the skin around them grew dark, and though he had had no rest, he did not feel tired, but numb. He had been walking haphazardly in the general direction of his apartment when he came across a brightly lit-building, the city aquarium. Like a moth, he was powerfully attracted to it and found himself pushing open the doors and going inside.

He had not slept since the mugging. He still remembered the exact alley from which the predator had come. The mugger had been armed with a knife, and Fisk had frozen upon seeing it, unconsciously handing the man all his money without a sound. He walked home a different way the next day.

Inside, the building was a single hallway. The left side of the hallway contained the exhibits, enormous illuminated tanks. The tanks were large enough to afford the animals the luxury of privacy from the often large crowds of people on the other side of the glass.

Fisk went down the hallway, regarding the various species of marine life with indifference, until he came across a particularly dense crowd of people. He saw that they were in front of the shark tank, and were waiting for the monster to show itself. Fisk mused at how sad it was that such a great animal was captive. And suddenly, it was there, with only a few inches of glass separating everyone from the beast. Fisk held his breath. The shark seemed to be looking directly at him with its cold eyes. It bared its teeth at him, forming a sinister but knowing grin. People jostled past him in the narrow hallway.

Fisk stood there for a long time, even after the shark had gone, its smile burned into his mind. After while he walked out of the dark hallway, into the fading light of the city, and quickly made his way back home, to avoid being out past dark.

Fisk wandered around his apartment without direction for a while. His windows and doors were locked. He stopped in front of a window and leaned on it with his hand while he peered out. It was old and stained, and it allowed only a small amount of light into the apartment. Fisk could feel the cold of the night through the glass surface.

He went on living in this manner for two weeks, when he saw the shark's picture in he paper. One of the aquarium's employees had fallen into the tank, and the shark had claimed the man's hand as a result.

That night, Fisk paced back and forth in his apartment. He opened his windows and stuck his head out, looking at the sky. The crescent moon hung amidst the stars, looking like a saber. He put on his coat and left the building.

Fisk made his way deliberately back to the alley he remembered so well. The same mugger as before jumped out of the alley, knife at hand. He sneered, remembering his old victim. Fisk regarded him coldly, his eyes focused on the mugger's throat. Fisk bared his teeth. The shark struck.

Through the Tire

Look back on my life like the ghost of Christmas past,
Toys 'R Us, where I used to spend that Christmas cash,
And I still won't grow up, I'm a grown ass kid,
Swear I should be locked up for stupid shit that I did,
But I'm a champion, so I turned tragedy to triumph,
Make music that's fire, spit my soul through the wire.

-Kanye West

-----

Caleb strolled into the restaurant, two minutes late. He found his younger brother Abe already seated, wearing an Italian suit and sipping from a glass of champagne. Caleb adjusted his only tie and took a seat. He was five minutes late, and he had never been in a restaurant this nice. Spending time with his brother always served to make Caleb feel uncomfortable and out of place.

-----

The two brothers had lived in a middle class neighborhood in New Jersey. In their back yard was a tire suspended from a tree. Their father had hung the tire for the boys to play with when they were young. Had he hung it horizontally, with the hole facing the ground, there would be room for both boys to sit on the tire and swing together. Unfortunately, their father had only one rope, and the tire was hung vertically. With the tire hanging the way it was, their mother would not allow them to be on the tire at the same time.

Consequently, Caleb, who was taller, stronger, and two years older than his brother Abe, was always in control of the tire. Abe would sit on the ground and watch how many times Caleb would swing back and forth until the sun sank almost to the ground. Sometimes Abe, being an impatient eight-year-old, would ask Caleb for a turn, a request Caleb, being a stubborn ten-year-old, would always refuse, even if he wasn't having fun anymore. After a few turns of this, Abe would edge closer to the tire, and before it passed him by, would attempt to join his brother on the swing.

The end result of this was usually that Caleb, who was taller, stronger, and two years older than Abe, would keep swinging, while Abe would end up with a mouthful of dirt for his effort.

One day in June, Abe was sitting watching Caleb swing as he always did, when he made an offer. Abe bet Caleb that he could jump through the moving tire. Should Abe accomplish this, Caleb would surrender the swing to Abe on any request from then on. Should he fail, Abe would not bother him again. Caleb hopped off the tire, walked up to Abe, and shook his hand. The wager was made.

The sun's rays passed through the tire and onto Abe as Caleb drew it back. Caleb, grasping the tire, pulled it back as far as he could, and with a mighty effort, pushed the tire into motion, jumping back to avoid it as it swung back. Abe, ready to pounce, followed the tire with his eyes as it moved back and forth. One swing, two swings, three. Finally, as the tire returned from its highest point, Abe sprinted forward, planted his foot, and leaped.

He ended up with a face full of dirt as the tire continued to swing. For a brief instant, he had closed his eyes, but he now saw the look on his brothers face. He had made it.

-----

When they had finished eating, Abe called the waiter over for the check. As Abe reached for his wallet, Caleb began to protest, but Abe motioned for him to stop. In minutes they were parting ways outside the restaurant, as Abe hailed a cab and Caleb walked to his apartment, where he watched television until he fell asleep.