Fiction

I stirred and awoke to find myself seated on the couch. A glorious sun shone through everything, as if my surroundings were translucent.

The television was on and I was alone.

UNDERGROWTH is proud to preview an excerpt from the new novella META-DETECTIVE by regular contributor LEVIN A. DIATSCHENKO.author of The Man Who Never Sleeps, comes another surreal adventure that experiments with reality.

META-DETECTIVE is a new illustrated novella is a cross between pulp fiction detective classics and Greek mythology. 

Rajistan: The land of Princes and Professional hustlers.

In primary school I used to organise the school discos and it always made me feel important.  I would head a little committee of grade sixer’s and sevener’s and we’d pick a theme, like Underwater World or Space Jungle.  Then we’d break out the clag for a hefty cut and paste session old school style, photocopy the results and get Mrs Nash to send them home with the news letters.  The next few weeks would be very exciting, planning costumes and picking songs to play.  I remember trying really hard to keep my costume a secret and of course ended up telling my best friend Kelly, who then turned around a day or two later and announces in front of everybody that she’s going as a mermaid princess.  Bitch.  Some small time bitching would ensues and rival groups within the committee would form.  Closer to the date things would get very hectic indeed.  Big time sucking up and borderline bribing would occur so that maths time or group reading sessions could be used as valuable decoration preparation time.  I’d have a mass assembly line of kids doing arts and crafts, child labour laws be damned!  The younger less co-ordinated ones would be allocated the more low-skill level jobs, like cutting newspaper into strips for the paper mache coral or gluing sequins to plastic fish.  An approved group of senior artists would actually paint the fish and the coral and work on constructing the marine castle.  While I appreciated the help and needed the assistance a lot of the time I would end up doing it myself cause at least then it would be done properly with the care and attention such handiwork demands.  Occasionally annoying interfering boys would attempt to sabotage the operation and do things like steal the Giant Clam and use it as a football.    We would workshop ideas for party games. Pass the parcel was a staple, as was Pin the Tail on the Donkey - which always provided the opportunity for good natured ridicule.  Knights, Mounts and Cavaliers was always popular, probably because it gave you a good excuse to get physical with whatever boy you had a crush on at the time.  I used to love being thrown into different positions whenever the music stopped….  So the actual night would arrive and we’d all show up dressed as pirates, sharks (or mermaids.)  We would get the principal to line us up with a thumping sound system and some flashing lights and we’d get somebodies older brother to play the music and sure sometimes the disco would be slow to get going with all the girls on one side of the room and all the boys on the other side of the room, but as the hostess I would always try to break the ice and get the dance floor happening.  Somebody would always have a bitch about the music and I remember the shit hitting the fan once when some unsuspecting parent walked into NWA blaring over the speakers.  Classics such as Nut Bush City Limits were safe as the dance was non-threatening and simple enough for the boys to pick up.  So once we were all charged up on red cordial, chocolate crackles and homemade fudge the party would definitely start cranking.  A lot of action always happened outside what with general running around like silly buggers, and perhaps the odd romantic interlude behind the water tank which had to be conducted with the upmost caution to evade the night patrolling teacher. 

The Oracle Vignettes

Demon terrorists, drug warriors, robot butterflies, virtual reality brainwashing, alien television and memetic drugs. All debris of an unfinished novel; The Oracle' is a collection of short science fiction poems written and designed by Tim Parish.

WHILE he was sleeping, Citizen Uccello heard a ‘knocking’ inside his head. Uccello, like all citizens of his day, only had one dream. It consisted of a single pyramid of playing-cards, stacked high and peaceful on a coffee table. But the present knocking shook the image, and the cards collapsed in a heap.

If you take thought as a tangible thing, imagine the clouds of thought hanging about our heads.
Imagine the roof of thought-fog hanging over our cities.
Beginning as a murder mystery the story unravels until it gradually unveils the origin and purpose of an organization so esoteric that it doesn't even have a name.

Lars Yenin is an overworked family man, who never gets enough sleep. When he loses both his job and family, he lies down to sleep and doesn't wake up. The mysterious coma continues for years. Two weeks into the sleep, another man who looks identical to Yenin arrives and takes over Yenin's life. Within a short time, he becomes a world-famous occultist.

This new Yenin never sleeps at all.

Chaz Darf is a sorrowful emigrant whose only enjoyment in life is art. Most of his days are spent smoking cigars on the front steps of the block of units where he lives. Nobody knows anything about his life before he came to Australia.

When Chaz goes missing, and murders of seemingly supernatural circumstances take place, the police are left with only one clue: Chaz's paintings, which clutter up his unit. Every painting is of the same subject: a beautiful but deformed woman. That's not much help, though. What the police need is the help of an expert in the occult --- they go to Lars Yenin.

The Man Who Never Sleeps is Levin A. Diatschenko's first novel, a blend of metaphysics, mystery and science fiction. Since its launch in the Darwin Fringe Festival, followed with its nation-wide distribution, it has attracted an underground following of readers as diverse and individual as the characters in the book.

During the months of August and September, The Man Who Never Sleeps will be released in a serialised form on www.undergrowth.org, featuring new illustrations by the author throughout. Readers will be able to subscribe to a special email list to receive updates when new chapters are uploaded weekly at http://www.undergrowth.org/neversleep.

A preview chapter of the book's prologue is now available. Read the prologue here.

The revolution begins at breakfast!

Reviews 

4:35 PM the end of slavery is approaching for the day. I get in my door about six, that fuck in the apartment next door just gave me that look again. Sit down, contemplate my next move that is obviously related to food. Buy it, cook it, not eat, go to a friend's house and eat their mother's cooking. Someone is at the door, I can hear them marauding out the front of my apartment, the door is open, I shout and Mr. History enters. He sits on the couch, reaches in his bag and pulls out his mix bowl, scissors and a bag of Chiba. Well, a three-course meal has arrived for someone.

The doors slid open at his approach. He squinted as he entered even brighter light. Quickly choosing a reflective wrap-around set, he slipped them on and headed for the entrance. The doors took longer than usual to open as he waited for the automatic debit to his account. Must be a malfunction, he decided. A synthetic voice sounded from above.