Z.

I once had a job balancing the daily income and pooled tips of a saloon. At the time, it was the earliest morning job I'd ever had.  They gave me a key and the entry code, and I would let myself into the bar, sometimes when it was still dark outside.  Kind of an old-timey place. "Wild west" ambiance. Not unearned, either. There was some legitimate history, there. I'd go and turn on the kitchen lights. Get things going. The place had a menu. "Buffalo" burger. "Rattlesnake" wings. "Prickly pear" potato skins. That sort of thing. Every morning when I'd turn on those kitchen lights, the walls would run away from me. It was incredible how efficient cockroaches are at running away. Top-tier scattering skills.  It was a historic building on the national registry. It makes it hard to renovate and properly exterminate pests in old buildings like that. Expensive. Especially in a facility serving food and beverages.  Being a "historic build...

CECIL wanders in a harsh, empty desert—stretching out around him for untold miles into the horizon.  He's been walking a long time. VOICE OVER:  Ancient people associated the desert with God. Or gods. They would go to look for him. Or her. Them. It. Out there, without food or water or shelter. Depriving themselves of all life giving necessities until God, or the gods, made itself known to the believer. Sacrifice. Sacrifice of self. This is what you needed to give, just for the chance to have an encounter with the All. Cecil collapses in the dust.  VOICE OVER:   Lots of people have died in the desert.  Cecil's open mouth opens and closes like a gasping fish on land, dust sticking to his lips. VOICE OVER:   But at the crucial moment. Right before death. People would find God. Or God would find them. Communion. Cecil looks up one last time to see a WHITE VAN at the crest of a sand dune in the distance. Is it a hallucination? Are there people there—looking back...

A man and a woman sit in a restaurant for breakfast. Waiting for their orders to arrive, they pass the time by talking to each other. A: "So tell me something about yourself."  B: "Okay, but let's talk about something else." A: "You don't want to talk about yourself?" B: "I don't mind that. But we can do that by talking about anything." A: "Okay--"  B: "Because if we talk about... this salt shaker, we'll learn more about each other than we could hope to by trying." A: "Alright. What about that vase over there?" B: "Vase? What vase?" A: "That one." B turns to look at the vase. A: "What do you think?" B: "I don't know. Do you think vases are made to be broken?" A: "Broken? Why would you break a vase?" B: "It's a trope. A cliché. You see it in cartoons and old movies."  A: "Like when someone bumps into a little table and the vase st...