Archive for February, 2010

#133. The Tea Room

Posted in Uncategorized on February 23, 2010 by armaneaux

There is a small Tea Room that dresses itself in faux Victorian style. Although all the furniture is recent, a handful of the pictures on the walls are truly antiques. Go to the Tea Room and order nothing but a cup of hot water. The elderly woman will stare at you as if she knows something you don’t, but she’ll bring you the cup. The tea would only dull your senses.
Examine the photographs and lithographs on the walls while you sip your water. Many of them will have inky black shapes that occlude what is behind the glass. The more you look, however, the more apparent it will become to that the blackness is moving from frame to frame. When it all seems particularly focused on a particular photograph, lithograph or vintage advertisement, get up and seize the framed picture. Take it from the wall and leave without stopping.
Burry the frame deep, someplace far away from the city. Ignore the screaming. Return home and make yourself a cup of tea to steady your nerves. For the remainder of the week, until the darkness makes its way back, none of the corners in the city will be quite as dark or foreboding


#131. The +15 Walkways

Posted in Uncategorized on February 23, 2010 by armaneaux

Downtown Calgary is home to a small network of enclosed walkways (a “skywalk”) called the +15 System. The +15’s are designed to encourage pedestrian traffic during the day, but are closed at night. The city claims that this is for the sake of the security of the buildings connected by the walkways and to prevent transients from living in them. However, the actual reason is much more interesting.
While the core of the system is open from 7 AM until Midnight, The western and eastern edges of the system are locked at 9 PM. If you are able to sneak into the closed systems at midnight, you’ll discover new walkways that don’t exist during the daylight hours. If you walk down these pathways, you’ll eventually emerge in the Minneapolis Skyway.
The Minneapolis Skyway connects every skywalk system in the world. Be warned, however, that if the skywalk you enter from it isn’t in a city where the time is between midnight and six AM, you may find that walkways you rely upon no longer exist.

#125. The Window

Posted in Uncategorized on February 23, 2010 by armaneaux

There is a small downtown gallery housed in an aging sandstone building, its details weathered to nothing with age, that is almost entirely empty save for a handful of pop art prints, a lost de Chirico, and The Window. The first is of no interest, the third is part of a triptych which must never be completed, and the third is a simple window hung like a painting on the back wall. The window always seems to have its share of admirers, typically young students or other idiots.
The window appears to be painted on the other side, depicting a scene of suburban carnage. Executed in perfect photorealism: A man with an axe standing on a bloodied lawn, the neighbourhood children behind him, chopped to bits. The man is standing on the lawn, mid-stride, approaching the window with a white picket fence behind him that is stained with gore. Do not gaze at the painting too long, allowing yourself to get caught in its brush strokes is a death sentence.
Instead, enter the gallery’s back room. There, you will discover the body of the owner, decomposed and dead from a self-inflicted gunshot wound. On the wall behind him, beneath the bloodstain, you will see photographs pinned to it of the window. In the first, the painting depicts an empty lawn. It’s dated 10/5/01. Within a year, the children have appeared. Within six months of that, so has the man. The last photo, dated the first of this year, depicts the man approaching the window, although he’s still further away than he is now.
Never open the window, and never ever break it.

#122. The Encasement

Posted in Uncategorized on February 23, 2010 by armaneaux

In the basement of New City Hall, in an unlocked room, there is a cube of concrete measuring about six square feet. The cube is the only object in the room, which even lacks a lightbulb in the ceiling’s sole socket. Despite this, the room is lit at all hours as if a sickly fluorescent bulb were installed in the ceiling. If you enter the room by day, other than the cube there is nothing of any note and no apparent reason to remain. However, if you do remain, you will find it highly educational.
After City Hall closes, the cube begins to warm up. Heat spreads across its surface, as if something burning hot were within. When the cube is too hot to touch, it will begin to whisper to you. Everything it whispers is a lie, but the whispers are so dense and so thick that with enough patience you can begin to piece together the truth. However, should you let yourself get lost in the lies, the whispering will never go away and it will slowly drive you mad.