Fatman in Eternity
Author’s note: Fatman’s Inferno is a series of four related novellas, anchored by the character Fatman, and his wife, Doris. Their home turf, St. Paul’s Frogtown neighborhood, has been overtaken by former residents, now undead, who occasionally bust out of the underworld in a bid to settle old scores. The text is accompanied by short songs that I wrote and recorded. Related illustrations, generated by the AI app, Gemini, are scattered at relevant points throughout the text.
The novellas were originally published as emails sent to subscribers, who received a new episode every workday morning, beginning on November 1, the Day of the Dead. The conceit here was that subscribers could read the day’s installment on their way to work. This project was linked to a grant program that awarded $1000 to anyone who a) claimed to be an artist, and b) produced a work related to the light rail construction that was then being undertaken to link downtown Minneapolis and St. Paul.
The complete set is available here as a free PDF download. The collection is also available in multiple formats for eReaders at Amazon, and via a number of other vendors, at nominal prices. Find them, and other novels I’ve written, at AnthonySchmitz.com
The Lure of Nothing
In the beginning there was…
The depth of a well. A thousand steps past.
What I was.
And now…
Vanished.
A brown terry towel, my name in caps, CHARLES, appliquéd by my mother in scraps of golden fabric. The kindergarten’s tile floor cold and hard.
Or —
Darkened room. Sheets tangled. Headboard clapping against the wall. Sighs, groans, the drip of sweat, nails clawing, that emphatic whisper.
Or —
Thoughts. Consciousness. Ephemeral now.
I say: Let me slip off your shoes, hold your feet.
Was ever a spouse more uxorious?
We had differences.
Trivial. Cosmic.
Tomato.
Toh-ma-to.
Ridiculous.
The beginning…
Endless prospects…
Chaos
Calm.
Contention.
Acceptance.
Twilight to darkness. Swooping bats. Sliver of moon. A few stars bright enough to pierce the city lights.
Doris: If we want to go back …
Back to shuttered storefronts. Litter in the gutter. Graffiti on all that does not move.
Yes. We could return to that. Possibly.
Be here.
Now.
One man’s hokum,
another man’s…
Malarky.
In the beginning, there were…
Stars, oceans, creatures of the land and sea.
In the beginning, friends….
The Word.
Whatever it is or was.
In return…
A fable made from …
… imagination…
…hopefulness…
…nothing…
Stop using that word.
What?
Nothing …
Why?
Because it is wrong.
There is no such thing.
Nothing. Being a presence of its own…
Song: Epilogue * Lyrics
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