Space: one hundred one story of surrealism. Рим Дик

one story of surrealism

      Рим Дик

      © Рим Дик, 2023

      ISBN 978-5-0059-7620-8

      Created with Ridero smart publishing system

      Table of Contents

      Space: One Hundred and One Stories of Surrealism

      parallel universes

      Fonts provided by ParaType

      © Rome Dik, 2022

Here you will meet Hercules and Dumbledore, the engineer’s mole, Pinocchio and Freddy Krueger who keeps his secrets in boxes, a traveler’s bat through the universes, a spider looking for a house in space, cannibal socks, evil-eater ponies, wizard whales, giant gnomes, physicists’ stools and much more.. Cyborgs and teleporters, vampire atoms, copycat shadow, speed train worm…. This book is a rest, an invention, but an invention; truly unique and beautiful. Do not believe? Check it out!

      18+

Created with the intelligent publishing system Ridero

      Table of contents

      Space: One Hundred and One Stories of Surrealism

      SPACE: one hundred^{one story of surrealism}

      SPACE: one hundred^{one story of surrealism}

      Good morning my new reader! Welcome to my world of unimaginable, breathtaking and burning universe. Here, on the way home, through the thorny and sharp thorns of pleasure, you will fall into magic. Here, the wildest dreams become reality, the most childish fantasies come to life, and the monsters from under the bed in your room begin to sob non-stop, so that only this story will never end. In truth, only a few of you will master it, but those few of them who start will never think in a formula again. We cut all standards to shreds, into small wallpapers of universes. Here every story comes to life with new paint!

      This book is an amazing world of magic and fantasy, bewitching, beautiful and so crazy! Have a good journey, wanderer who has entered the pages of parallel universes, space-time and black holes!

      Ah, here it is – the Earth, so round, ripe, like an apricot, you can’t say that a billion small parasites live there. Look… A worm the size of the Eiffel Tower jumps out of a volcano, and dives back into the earth, eating it from the inside, chewing its way to Australia. Well, he has teeth, I wonder. Greedy. They say that worms do not like poison very much, therefore they bypass the nuclei. It couldn’t be otherwise. And there, on the clouds, on this earth – there, you know, penguins are sitting. They flew here from the south, when it became completely unbearable to live. Pay the mortgage, pay the utilities. They are tired of everything. To catch fish and feed the children, what else! Children have flippers, let them feed themselves, let them find food for themselves and get it. The penguins have risen high into the sky and perched on the clouds, and are watching when it will be possible to slide down them into the ocean and swim away to the polar bears. They say, polar bears didn’t see them, it will be funny to see how a penguin swims up to a polar bear, but he does not understand whether it is a fish or a bird. Or a log – that’s all. Or still killer whale. No, of course, there is nothing funny about this, the penguin is very dangerous, he will lift the bear high into the sky and throw it into a cliff somewhere in a canyon in America, and the bear really does not like it when it is hot. He will pull out a fan and blow into it. Who loves, right? The bear will cry, the fan does not help, and will become straw, so dry, terrible. The Indians will find him, think that people from the city left them so that they would not starve, they will throw him on his back, tie him with a rope and go to the waterfall. They will sit down by the waterfall to drink water, and then… the dried meat will absorb the splashes from the oasis, get up, come to life and tear off the head of the Indian with his paw, and say that he did not want to. Well, how could I not want it, since I tore it off, I really wanted it, I assure you, he wanted all this, what a liar fart, tell me? Well, don’t say so. I took offense at you. By the way, what am I offended by? Oh, yes, well, they drove. So. And these Indians…

      The Indians have always loved to tempt fate, because a long time ago they came up with a rite that made them immortal, and therefore, that Indian stood up, took his head, shook off the sand, screwed it in place, and extended his hand to the bear. He is not a dangerous Indian. Kind. Make friends, just wanted to. The bear grabbed a hand with its mighty, sharp, well, as befits all bears, paw, and squeezing it, hit it several times on the stones, smearing all its insides over the layer, until the Indian grabbed the bear with his teeth and gnawed it to the bone. They didn’t eat for several months. The teeth have not been eaten for a long time, and the stomach, and the intestines, and the liver. Yes, and worms, and they are very hungry for food. The bear fell in battle with his equal. The Indians killed him in no time. Worms then spat wool for two weeks. And the Indians, those who have seen, say they go without panties, because six covered them from behind. Forgot about shorts in general. And the penguin croaked, looked at it from his cloud, and laughed, threw sardines down. While they were flying, they were rotten. That day, all the flies around the canyon were feasting. The Indians were washed off the flies for two days, until they themselves became flies because the arriving wings made them fly. The Indians flew all night long, looking for this and that, they didn’t find what they were looking for, and then they also found what they were looking for. One of them was an old oak, they have been looking for it since last Sunday, they left their friend “White Mongoose” here, they all liked to call each other names of animals, they believed that if you take the name of an eagle, after death you will become an eagle. So, Mongoose, became a mongoose after death, however, he was tied to a chain, that oak was on golden chains, the scientist cat made circles on that chain and sang songs, a mermaid sat on the branches, only they did not save the “white mongoose” which became an ordinary mongoose, and he dried up, became an ornament of the oak root. Words were spared on him and they did not make him immortal. The mermaid had a high opinion of herself. She sat, and she herself was very high and dyed her hair pink with silt. I couldn’t step on the branches in any way, the absence of the second leg all the time interfered. The cat was a scientist, although he was smart, like, I don’t know, like a mole, or like a four-fingered monitor lizard, but he didn’t think of giving a hand. Because he knew: “a kind person will give a hand to a suffering creature,” and he has something at the very paw. Well, not fate, so it was a hand in hand. And so the “white mongoose” died that day. A bear would not have wished this on anyone, and the penguin, glory to all the kings of animals, was not sentimental and compassionate towards other animals, especially those whom he did not know. It was believed that this was how it should be, and they were supposed to die as well, well, nothing else. The penguin drank lemonade from pears, scratched his flippers with his beak, and shouted obscene words, the most vile words that could be in the world:

      “You are all shit!”, “No one will save you, the world is doomed!”, “Death to all shells!”, “Sneaky squirrels have seized power!”, “Coronavirus is a stream of 5G networks!”. Of course, there was nothing wrong with that, but the penguin really wanted to believe that he was a very bad penguin. He’s royal. Only he had not seen the king for a long time, who knows where this king is now. The king penguin was without his king, a hermit, unnecessary. Since he flew away, although he never saw the king, but everyone shouted to him about it, he considered himself the most beautiful bird in the entire earthly strip of the milky river.

      Look, the king penguin is flying! shouted people, orangutans and koalas. The penguin turned around, bitch at them, and flew away. So they need. He fed them, and was pleased with himself.

      – I’m completely free! shouted the penguin, hiding behind a cloud.

      Another strange animal lived in those parts, his name was a kangaroo, he always liked to jump over stones, climb trees and chirp. He chirped, Mom, don’t worry. Nightingales, thrushes, gulls, bees flew to his tweets, and let’s, as they say, fuck him with rocks, stools, zebra babies and the bones of an