SABBATH

It is Saturday, and The Lamb of God sits in the living room of his duplex on a fold-out couch made from the straw of his birthplace. He watches Fight Club and chews over the anti-violence message.

A CD-R of downloaded Doves songs play on the stereo in the background. It’s a compilation of his favorite tracks from all of their albums including the import. He can hear his neighbor, Mark, through the thin walls. He seems agitated. The king of the Jews doesn’t know Mark very well. They only occasionally exchange pleasant but predictable salutations when the moment presents itself. However, the Lamb knows Mark’s father very well and doesn’t care for him. Or rather, he cares but finds that it is a burden to do so.

Mark’s father had a falling out with the Lamb’s father over some real-estate years back.
The Son keeps a large gold-trimmed clock with a holographic face of a waterfall and what is supposed to be an image of him, above his entertainment center. The Father has expressed his distaste for the clock on many occasions. But the Lamb of God feels that his father simply fails to see the humor in it.

Bored of Fight Club, he turns it off when Jared Leto’s character enters. In the credits, Leto’s character is called Angel Face. The Son finds this
amusing but finds the bleached eyebrows of the character creepy.

The King of King’s attention span is fleeting as he also bores of his chosen background music. Deciding to replace Doves with a bootleg of a Soulwax concert. The recording is on a casette with the label worn unreadable and although the Son could easily transform the media to something of a higher calibur, he prefers the grittyness of the original.

Mark the neighbor thinks that the European-influenced musical-taste of the Lamb is effeminate and without soul. Mark has never voiced his opinion but, of course, he doesn’t have to.

One day in the future, Mark and The Son will exchange more than words and The Son will have to put Mark down. Mark’s father knows this day will come but finds it best not to tell his son. It is his experience that the anticipation of death is worse than death itself.

- jason byron nelson ©2006