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Literary….Fiction for the A.D.H.D. faction

The Forlorn Exotic | Coming Christmas 2015

Im shootin’ for a Christmas 2015 Release on Kindle. I will update the page as I get closer to my deadline.

Chapter 1

Arms, and legs sprouted from the wad of skin. They stretched, and wiggled around curiously, feeling the dry ground below. The hands pushed the body around in a haphazard manner, like a reptile emerging from an egg.

The body sprang to its feet, took a few strides and fell. It sprang to its feet again, took a few strides and fell again. Standing again. Losing balance. Slowly the head began to protrude, shaking violently. A thin membrane, covering the stretching skin, ripped, exposing the naked skin. The head grew vacant white eyes that scanned the horizon; a big gray blur—nothing. Searching hands shuffled, probed, and investigated the earth.

He, Custom John, felt his nose pop into place as the gray blur slowly gained focus. He took a step, lost balance and fell. He stood again, fell, and repeated. His steps began to increase in distance and after two days he could walk great lengths. His eyes assimilated and the sense of smell drove his curiosity. Custom, wide eyed and careless, examined all that was before him. Jagged, monstrous structures broke the flat horizon in various places, while a myriad of trees caressed the downhill slope from the summit to the base and ran aimlessly across the rolling hills.

Different aromas presented themselves. They came and went, contending with one another for attention. He followed each scent to its nascence and touched and pulled, or poked the material. The surfaces varied tremendously in texture, and the patterns, to which there was no end, ushered sublimity into his soul. Custom inhaled through his nose. The oxygen felt nice. He noticed his breathing and took a deep breath. He exhaled and took another breath. What is this? he thought to himself. Where does this come from? He felt his chest as it expanded and sank with each breath. He listened as he exhaled. Custom wondered where the noise came from. It was all around, and he swiped at the air. What is that? The sound came when his chest moved. He ran his hands up and down his body until he exhaled through his nostrils onto his hands. He snorted at his hand again. As he felt his nose, he realized his hand did what he wanted it to do. He swiped the air again, watched and contemplated his movement. He walked around amazed at the control he had.

Custom thought about his amazement and thought about his thoughts. What is that? he thought. He looked up and around. The world seemed bigger; more full of movement. A breeze blew the trees to and fro and carried leaves across the ground. Excited, Custom chased the leaves and felt the wind in his face.

  What is this?

He ran on for weeks and suddenly stopped when he came upon a lake. Custom approached with excitement. He crouched and crawled towards the water. Custom saw color flicker gray to blue, to shiny blinding silver. He moved in to touch and saw another hand in the water. He paused, confused. The hand disappeared as he drew in closer, then reappeared as he went to touch the water. Again he paused. What is this? He reached out to touch the hand, and when he did the hand rippled and swayed in all directions. He felt a cool sensation on his fingertip; and a slick texture when he rubbed his fingers together. He peered over the lake to investigate where the other hand came from. When the water settled he paused. Custom saw something new. It just sat there looking at him. What’s that? He pondered the thing in the lake for hours. Custom made a couple of observations. First, the thing moved whenever he moved. Second, the object had the same features as he did. Custom felt his face and watched as the object in the lake did the same. Is that me? he thought, that is me. His reflection caused more thought. He thought about thought, and his being. He looked around at his world, stood up and glanced back in the water at himself. He thought about his breath, the various smells.

 What is all this?

The sound of rustling leaves emerged from behind him. He spun around, just a breeze. He thought about his image and looked at his reflection again. The breeze caused the water to shake and shimmy and his reflection rippled and dispersed.

  It’s not me, but it is me, he thought. There has got to be another me, or another like me.

  As soon as Custom thought this the movement stopped. Silence enveloped and compacted his reality. Custom watched as the colorful landscape lost its color and began to dissolve and smear into a gray blur. Custom panicked. He ran, noticing the same scenario behind him, to the left, right, all around. The world dissolved; his hands and arms began to blur, and shot straight into the far distance, then dissipated into a white light.

Visit Joel Matulich’s Author Page on Amazon.com

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