Fake
Alpha
Fiction
by Lee Bemrose
When the plane finally crashes, after all that drama and hysteria, when it finally hits the ground and bounces and skids and bounces and turns sideways and crumbles and burns and all the death starts to happen ... when all of that is done and he is flung from the whole catastrophe, he thinks wow. Just me. No one else. Just me. No one has ever done this before... I'm like Jesus or something, rising from the ashes of that bird or whatever it is. This is the best thing ever. No one has ever done this before. This is a good thing.
He turns his back on the wreckage even though there are lives to be saved, and walks across the sand, amazed at his good fortune. How great am I, he thinks, how magnificent am I? Hugely magnificent, that's how magnificent.
It's a jungle. He sheds the ashes of his suit because it's the jungle. How good is this? How primal is this? Just me and my nakedness. Better enjoy it while I can, before they come and get me.
Fiction
by Lee Bemrose
When the plane finally crashes, after all that drama and hysteria, when it finally hits the ground and bounces and skids and bounces and turns sideways and crumbles and burns and all the death starts to happen ... when all of that is done and he is flung from the whole catastrophe, he thinks wow. Just me. No one else. Just me. No one has ever done this before... I'm like Jesus or something, rising from the ashes of that bird or whatever it is. This is the best thing ever. No one has ever done this before. This is a good thing.
He turns his back on the wreckage even though there are lives to be saved, and walks across the sand, amazed at his good fortune. How great am I, he thinks, how magnificent am I? Hugely magnificent, that's how magnificent.
It's a jungle. He sheds the ashes of his suit because it's the jungle. How good is this? How primal is this? Just me and my nakedness. Better enjoy it while I can, before they come and get me.
He stumbles through the trees into a clearing and stops, taking in the heavy fug in the air. Monkeys, he thinks, great big monkeys.
They turn and look at him. One. Then another. And another. A whole peaceful, wary tribe look at this naked, orange intruder. They take in his repugnant scent. They will let him pass through if that is his intention. Such ugliness has no place in their lives.
A baby gorilla recognises a kindred spirit and runs towards his new play-friend.
The bloated orange one smacks this insolent infant in the side of the head. How dare you touch me you disgusting thing! The child falls and his skull cracks as it hits a half-buried stone.
Nostrils flare. Postures straighten.
He thinks about running away, but those heel spurs, my long-forgotten heel spurs. Also, don't you know who I am?
They run at him, and it's not those fake heel spurs that prevent him from running, it's just fear. It's the fear of reality. Not fake or alternative reality; just real reality.
An actual alpha male tears the throat out of this fake alpha male and spits the flesh out in disgust.
Some chest-beating happens, and that's okay, because suddenly the world is a better place.
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