by Michael D. Brown
Chimpanzee Moko sat at a typewriter three hours a day every day except Sunday, when his trainer took him to church and he rested. After three years, Moko had finally tapped out a coherent short story. It was surreal in a way, what with misspellings and skewed syntax because after all chimps see things a little differently than humans do. His trainer, somewhat exasperated by all the clacking it took to produce such a short piece of work, set Moko to the task on a laptop with a silent keyboard, but the chimp became distracted by all the images flashing on the Internet, in fact, developed an addiction to surfing until the trainer darkened the screen. At first, seeming disheartened, Moko would not play anymore, but he must have liked pressing mushy keys because he soon took up typing again, and went at it for six months straight, tap-tap-tapping away, until one day in December when he stopped; just stopped and would not move a hairy digit. The trainer, in checking the printout that evening, found at the end, the words, “wot s tha meeening of it all....i m don heer.”
6S
Michael D. Brown writes whenever he can. Some of his work can be found at Outside-In.
20091028
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13 comments:
wots this?? from whose loins we sprang. clever.
Moko—that chimp’s all right.
Nicely done.
Superb and hilarious! A great six all the way 'round.
i feel his pian.
nice, michael, nice...
Really nice, I enjoyed it a lot.
I thought I commented and it's not here!
I read this one the first time and liked it. I reread it and felt a smile spread across my face.
Clever and fun. The sentences compel (impel?) the reader to the end.
An easy breezy manner taking us along on the journey.
Ah the life of a writer frustrated... The chimp learned... Loved it, Michael...
ooh, the suffering. Top monkey business.
I know just how Moko feels.
congrats on making it to the main page
I got a good laugh out of this piece MB - This monkey's alright with me! Congrats on making the main site yet again!
I know Moko personally and he has an additive personality coupled with attention deficit disorder...he left the trainer and briefly tried to make money bustling out on the streets to support his computer gambling habit, but everyone flocked to see the dance-breaking robot on the next corner. These days, Moko drinks heavily, shows a worn, tattered picture of his trainer to anyone that flies within striking distance and sobs into his suds about his former glory days when, "I coulda been a contender."
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