Bomb man

I sat there in the dead of winter, freezing my butt off. I was looking at this strange statue. My fingers and toes getting more numb as the cold set in. Drawing out the heat, from all over me. My breath crystalized in mid air, the kind of cold only a true Canadian knew the depth of. It sank into your bones. It crept through your jacket if it was to thin, and us Canadians, knew the difference between a parka and a jacket. Jackets weren't for winter, winter parkas were. If you could get a Northern goose( or afford one) you wouldn't have the chill ripple through you like a death frost finger. If you were way up north the eskimos could make you one with real wolfe fur and embroider it. I wandered around the city on a bleak dark snowy, cold,cold day, wondering what i would do with my life. My roommate drove me nuts, i couldn't find work, and more and more i was having thoughts that weren't normal. Like that i should get retrained in my profession. That my new profession should include travel. Traveling to countries to preach the word of Jesus. Because i had become Jesus that winter. My life as a mortal had been interrupted, and I was going to bring the masses to Canada. We would all live in a winter commune and eat deer, and rabbit in the cold months, and garden in the summer. We would have our community by the ocean, dry fish and deer jerky and eat pemmican, made out of wild berries. The summer would be full of carrots, collarabi, beets,potatoes, tomatoes, peas, corn and any other vegetable I could find seeds for. This was all interupted when, all of a sudden, in the park, full of benches, and trees and very few people, in plain view I came across a sculpture, I couldn't take my eyes off this man statue, that someone had tied a scarf around. I said to myself that it couldn't possibly have heat in this metallic piece of art,but the scarf was sucking heat out of this man made object. How could the scarf that someone had tied around it, be stuck to it like it had lived and died , and had lost all its life force, and heat, in death.Someone had tied around its neck, and now it was melted to it.

"I know" I thought. " Its made of plutonium, and some crazy terrorist group has planted it right here in the middle of this city. They plan on blowing Edmonton, sky high. "Ya, thats what it is" I pondered." Plutonium must be a conductor of heat." "Why, i wonder, if it will finally go KaBoom in the summer when it warms up?" "Maybe its the opposite" I worried " and when it gets to a certain freezing point it explodes" I worried again.

Just after I contemplated that a gentleman looking as cold as I was, rode up on a bicycle. " Good artist eh" he said through his scarf, which was, by the way adhered to his face the same way as the iron, or plutonium man's was. His was a nice hand knitted scarf, red, blue and, yellow with a long trail down his back, as opposed to the fat statue, that had his just barely buttoned at the back of it. He was a rotund, grey,metal man,with a warm scarf on. The young man on the bike, on the other hand was a professor glasses type, of fairly good looking, human material. He had on bike riders exercise tight pants, and had very large calf and thigh muscles. I looked for an answer to his compliment, on the parks piece. I said "its okay but kinda creepy you know why?"" Because his scarf looks like yours does right now but you breathe" I said to him in kind of an ominous voice. "Ya, kind of weird how the thing is stuck to him like he was warm before huh? " Is it ever strange" I thought again. Without answering him back. He rode away.

I couldn't take my peepers away from this object. The park had no visitors, and no one really noticed me freaking out. I was very disturbed by this oddity. Was I becoming mentally ill? Was I paranoid. Did anyone else wonder why it looked like he was warm around the neck, then now icicly?

Then it hit me. There is someone inside that big fat metal guy, and he is spying on everyone around here. He is laughing at me right now, he is looking out round belly statue at me. Then I changed my mind and said" no, he's the terrorists enemy and they put him in there and they are punishing him. Then I imagined the worst of all. He is going to blow up the city, suicide bomber style, and is being killed for some mission he was trying to accomplish in Canada, and got caught doing. So they made a plutonium bomb man, put him in it, and did not want him to freeze, they wanted him to suffer in there, until it blew up.

" Oh no , I ran, yelling, the city is going to be destroyed,because the plutonium bomb man has a terrorist in it. When I was twenty blocks away, I went to the greyhound bus station, and tried to buy the first ticket, I could get out of there. I made the mistake, of telling the ticket agent, about the plutonium metal scarfed man. She wouldn't sell me a ticket. So I never bothered telling her the next day about the little people that lived under the bus station, she could find that out herself. I ended up being held circumstantially hostage in that city, For Your Information, for six weeks, I could not get out of that city. I even pondered the thought, that God was going to make sure I was one of the casualties, of rotund plutonium man. It didn't dawn on me that I had not taken my medication for one year,previous.