Vlodstok

Frank's only pair of shoes were too small. His pants were a little too short. His shirt was unwashed and abusive to the eyes. He lived in a one room apartment on the third floor of a building that was home to several hundred rats. Sometimes at night, he was visited by an alien named Vlodstok.

Vlodstok was about 3 feet tall, had three eyes, one leg, and (according to him) his color varied. Sometimes, a nice navy blue. Sometimes, a forest green. The only color Frank had ever seen from Vlodstok was red. Who knew why? And Vlodstok wouldn't answer those types of questions, of course. No, Vlodstok had his own agenda, all the time. And his answers to questions varied from interesting and useful, to profane and demoralizing.

Frank was not in his apartment right now, and wasn't talking with Vlodstok. He was in a small jail cell in a town about 40 miles away from his apartment, and he didn't care. He didn't care that he was laying on a soiled metal cot, watching a roach run behind the combination toilet/water fountain. And there was no way Vlodstok would make an appearance here, since he thought people other than Frank were "shit heads". Frank was prepared for a nice long stay here, and had found a way to make the time go faster by writing Haikus. Here is a Haiku Frank wrote called The Farm:

Enjoying bright moon
until the slick
brown shoe

A fat man appeared at the bars, and said these words at Frank: "Hey asshole. You might be getting out of here in a few minutes, but I want you to know that we don't need to see you in Sharpton anymore. You understand?" The fat man had a badge, was balding, and reminded Frank of three lumps of clay thrown on top of each other. Frank nodded his head, said nothing, and stared at a stain near the dirty shoes of the Officer. The Officer added more words: "Did you hear me, asshole? If I see you here again, I'm giving you a beating before I drag you in." Frank felt bad for the Officer, and wondered what forces had combined to create such an angry clay snowman.

A quarter of an hour later, Frank was being escorted out of the jail. His wallet was returned, along with his keys, and thirty eight cents in change.