Tag Archives: Martin Chase

Nuclear Strawberries by Martin Chase

chaseAs he shuffled ever-so slowly through the various avenues formed by these toxic, stinking ziggurats, his eyes swished about and mentally picked at appealing morsels of charcoal-smelling, singed rifle barrels, giant, radioactive roach talons with the look and smell of overcooked intestine, grossly-priced tablets that shot off hostile, acerbic-odored volleys of electric mercury, and the occasional, blackened skull or three, some clad in scalded, rubber masks, others laid bare and gloomily grimacing sans jaws.

But in the midst of his last-minute window-shopping, the soldier’s ears captured the dull echo of an aching moan to his left.

Turning towards the object of interest, the soldier gazed upon the thing it had originated from; a fellow soldier.

Though he was partially obscured under the oppressive, overhanging shadows of the malignant, acid-soaked clouds above, the soldier instantly recognized the muted green jumpsuit and slipshod gas mask which clad the individual – a fellow, emaciated praying mantis in the service of NATO.

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A Swimmer in Time Part 2 by Martin Chase

chaseYet my head does not explode from the pressure of being overwhelmed all at once by everything that lives, breathes, flows, falls, and crumbles under a the light of a trillion suns. I, and the Odinic Travelers before me, whose memories are preserved within my own brain, have seen them all before in all our sojourns throughout the span of the universe. My cranium is stable for now, or so I think (is it?).

Then, after being lost in a raging river of visions, and flowing streams of time, the courtyard cuts back to nothing. But should I be surprised at the stark transition to nothingness? For what is nothing, but just another facet of everything?

But alas! I am not alone! For kneeling and meditating solemnly in the middle (or perhaps the end; I cannot tell. It is hard to tell when there is nothing but cobblestone and vapor as far as the eye can see) of the mystical courtyard is a man. He is both close and far from me, visible, and invisible. I see him, yet I do not see him. Whether he is there or not is a matter of continuous fluctuation. Why must everything be in a state of flux, especially here (and everywhere?). Is nothing fixed?

A Swimmer in Time by Martin Chase

chaseI have been to many worlds, many realms. I have travelled for years on end, and borne witness to things you would never believe, lest you feasted your own eyes upon them. The bloody skies of Ares III, where the White Dragons roam in rivers of mercury rain, and the lush, sea-jungles of Aquides, where sacred Lemuria and fish-men reside submerged, still flow vividly through my head like a bubbling stream of thought. My feet are forever restless, my tiny, silver rocket always in want of fuel, as I soar like a lonely comet across the vast, pitch oceans of time and space.

In the confines my little argent vessel, I have scoured the milky, gleaming star-continents of a thousand galaxies. Nearly everything that lies within their brilliant, immaculate luminescence has been yielded before me in my many journeys.

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