Dystopia with the Loss of Electricity and its Residual Effects

The bait hit the muddy pond water with a slap then the sinker went “thud”. Josie Dick cracked open a natty light and reached his hand down his pants, itched his sweaty asshole after having diarrhea that morning from eating too many pork rinds with filthy hands. He sat down finally after a hard day’s work—it was finally back to fishin’ and eatin’ more pork rinds with dirty hands.

This old pond wasn’t really known as a fishing pond, but Josie ignored the yellow scum over the top and the repugnant amphibious smell. He didn’t care. His main aim wasn’t to catch any fish, but merely after a hard day of selling Rattlesnake Fang earrings—the last thing he wanted to do was go home to his wife and kids.

Josie was named after his fathers first girlfriend which his mother never knew and that might seem odd, but she didn’t really know much outside of what Josie’s dad allowed her to do which meant mostly giving fellatio, cooking up Rattlesnakes from the hunt and being on the receiving end of sodomy—which Josie’s mom considered a sin against God, but she did it anyway because she wanted to be a good wife.

Josie’s wife was pretty much the same way, she wanted to be a good wife, give her husband fellatio and basically just be a good wife that doesn’t say much. When they first meet in high school Josie was astonished by her figure and voluptuous hips and breasts, her smile too was like a shinning star and her lips were irresistible and luscious. They fell in love and went to prom together. Josie was the prom king and she was the queen. Everybody envied them and as they danced together and gazed into each other’s eyes. Love emanated off them like kaleidoscopes of fizzing ether.

As Josie sat there with his pole in the pissy pond and drank his beer he thought momentarily about the past, but only very briefly because it made the present moment hurt even worse. Here he was fishing in a cess pool of dystopia with diarrhea under his finger nails. A fat, heinous pig at home with three snotty kids. “How did this happen?” he thought. Then he took a big drink and finished his first beer. Immediately reaching for another he suddenly got a bite. He missed hooking the fish by just a second, cussed the yellow water and opened another beer, then ten more, finishing his twelve pack and never having another bite.

Now it was time to go home. Josie pulled in his line and tossed it in his old ford F-150, sat in the truck and took a deep breath before he drove down the county road back home, but the truck wouldn’t start—his battery was dead. He popped the hood and then got an idea...two days later some hikers found his body with his head blown off and his twelve gage lying by his side.