Wanda switched off the engine. We sat in silence as she freshened up her lipstick in the rear view mirror. Her perfume filled the whole car with a sweet, suffocating, aroma. It was the smell of Original Sin, Pandora’s Box, or Salami making love with the head of John the Baptist....
Then it started. The sickly feeling in the pit of my gut, the slow dull throb down there, and the squeaky, insinuating little voice....
“Wakey-wakey, rise ‘n’ shine. Time-ta-go-ta-woick!”
“Shut up!” I screamed, pounding my muscle, “Do you think this is normal?”
As the blood rushed from my brains down to my beast, every last thought I’d ever had was sucked out of my skull and the zipper on my denims began to pop under the strain...
“Fowl Naxos, Waxon Flos, Wolf Saxon” simpered the voice.
Wanda just stared straight ahead, her eyes still fixed on the rear view mirror, humming gently to herself, acting like she hadn’t noticed a god damn thing...
from Dime Museum
released April 29, 2014
Words by Jon Golds, music by Zama
Jon Golds – vocals
Zama – Guitar, theremin
all rights reserved