2 minutes 8 seconds| This very early piece is rambunctious to a fault. Resultantly the mix has been nine years in the making. In the original slapped-together SWF, this was an homage to salt-and-pepper shakers and chest x-rays. The orignal title, Children’s Sex Organs Are Never, was taken from the first line of a set of guidelines for television broadcasters. Too much explanation was needed to defend it, while Seldom Organs is less words.
Time stamp when created: 4/2/09. This work received a major facelift in 2018, including a new intro.
Novel-in-Progress, excerpt 63| More description of the haunted house:
With only the aboral gale left as a mystery, the visitor stuck his head over a peeling edge of linoleum floor around the doorsill, and apprehended the house’s true uninhabited state. “Hello!” he shouted. “I am the artist!”
No response came.
Gathering dark put him at a disadvantage, although a step over the threshold activated a motion sensor and a lamp in a forward room. Impeded light found him, and poured warm pewter color over the veneers of aged furnishings and wallpaper. Lowell’s second hello was less confident and fell dully at his feet in this kitchen area. He shoved a dense woolen drape aside and surveyed his gamble.
An oven sat cattycorner to the backdoor, and doubled, either through innovation or convenience, as a trash compactor overflowing with garbage bags. More refuse sat between rusted legs of an old drop-leaf metal table in the center of the room. Bakelite appliances appeared at appropriate intervals on the counter, whereas an overturned cutlery tray, whose utensils were scattered in and among the range top’s burner coils, disrupted the functional flow.
If he were to be fed, meals would not be prepared here.
These leavings aside, residential occupancy seemed neither probable nor feasible: Failing daylight could be seen between a section of the baseboard and floor, although the hardwood planks underfoot cracked like green pecans, indicating that the foundation was essentially sound.
Candy wrappers looked uncommitted to the sifting-down terrain leading into the next room. These suggested the presence of a transient, squatter, or other recent visitor. This baited corridor communicated with an entryway, where a second lamp, bolted to the staircase’s newel, came on at a calculated interval; this encouraged him into a hospitable part of the house.
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