RIMISH

 House Icon Beach City 

or, “RIMISH” by Jack-Henry Lee

Scene 1

He stands in front of a sink full of dishes on his phone. On it is the app House Icon: Beach City. It is a small beachfront property with the supports for a large building. He taps the “shop” button and selects a new “Tool Pull.” A box drops onto the property. He taps the box and it cracks open. A creature emerges, a Tool, and it starts wandering the property. 

His Partner: “Honey, I’ve got to leave for work soon! Did you wash me a bowl and spoon yet for lunch?”

He says: “Um, just a minute…” And he watches his phone. There’s a timer above the bare supports for his future house. Ten minutes ticks down to nine and fifty-nine seconds. Fifty-eight seconds. Fifty-seven seconds. The Tool jumps up and down.

Scene 2

He’s at his desk. The window is open and it’s beautiful outside. His phone is on speakerphone. He’s on the computer reading a post on a stranger’s blog. 

His friend on the phone: “We really missed you last weekend, man.”

The blog: [... is not part of the game itself. I have found that Bastotron is a kind of Thoughtform, linked to the game by its history…]

He says: “Yeah. Maybe I’ll see you guys in person next time.”

His friend on the phone: “Have you talked to Joe at all recently?”

The blog: [...app years ago went by a different title, ‘Creator Carpenter,’ and has retained a small but obsessive following, allowing Bastotron to retain relevance, and amass spiritual energy…]

He says: “Uhh, no. Did he do something?

His friend on the phone: “Yeah, man, he’s a part of this, like, Christian-music-cult or something. He’s started posting all about it on Instagram. He deleted his other posts, it’s all promotional reels for this, like, $300 retreat you can do to learn psalms on an acoustic guitar.”

He says: “I haven’t talked to Joe since high school, really.”

His friend on the phone: “It’d make a good film, huh? You could do one of those crazy documentaries you used to do. Where you couldn’t tell what was supposed to be real or not.”

The blog: [...manifests in other people, strangers, dreams, meditative visions. The more you build your house, the more you draw him closer to you. I’ve experienced profound personal development since finishing my house. It’s free to play. If you click the link at the bottom of this post you can start the game with 500 free gemshells, and help support me…]

His friend on the phone: “He grew out his hair Charles Manson style and he’s got this big, bright grin. I went down the rabbit hole and Joe even got on this podcast with a few thousand regular listeners. He was talking about how he was going to start his own radio station. Freaky stuff. … You still there?”

He says: “Sorry. I was thinking about, uh…”

His friend on the phone: “Don’t tell me you’re playing that goofy “Clash of Clans” iPhone game while talking to me right now.”

He says: “I promise I’m not, I’m just reading some stuff at the same time--”

His friend on the phone: “Dude.”

Scene 3

He’s locking up the front door as he leaves his house. He’s also on his phone. On the app House Icon: Beach City. He now has a small house on the beach. Several Tools wander the property. A notification appears above the house. He looks up. A man crosses the street towards him. As he gets to the bottom of his stairs the man looks at him like a good friend.

The bizarre man: “Hey! Have fun at bingo tonight. It’s the usual crowd, but the ladies’ll be doing four or five parts so you’ll have that to look forward to. See you soon, man!”

The man turns the corner and walks away. He looks over his shoulder, straight ahead, back down at his phone. The notification above his house is gone. He opens his messaging app and taps his partner’s number and types out: “crazy event of the day: guy just came up to me like he knew me and was talking about bingo tonight. and ladies doing four or five parts.” After he types it he looks it over, and then deletes the entire message and never sends.

Scene 4

He’s on the couch on his phone. His house in the game is much taller. Tools scale the sides and balconies. He gets a message from one of his friends. It’s a video.

One of his friends: “Partyingggggg tonight!!!!! We are DRUNK! As SHIT! Just wanted to let you know we LOVE you, bro. You’re a real one. You’re so money, man.” His friend’s demeanor shifts and the music in the video lowers to a blurry, bassy, background rumble. “You have to keep going. Prepare for the worst and you’ll be preparing for something you never intend to experience. Prepare for the best and you’ll be preparing for your dreams. You have to know for certain.” The music starts to swell again. “We miss you MAN! Fly out sometime soon, OK? You can-- You can always stay at our place, broh. We’ll get some BEERS.” The video ends.

Scene 5

He’s standing outside this electrical plant-thing. An electricity center, maybe. Connected to all the power lines and all this metal shit. He stares up at it. He holds out his hand and an invisible force connects him to the power. A near-invisible ripple in the air.

He says (without moving his lips, echoey): “Why do I feel so compelled? Sometimes it is easier when I am not compelled. But when I’m building my house in House Icon: Beach City I get the most euphoric rush. It’s… it’s real to me. Intense. Even just thinking about the game is exciting. I could sit and think about it for the rest of my life. I don’t know what it will be like when I finish it. But I hear… I hear that it’s great. I hope it will be right, that it will feel right. That I’ll be satisfied.”

He lowers his hand. Everything fades to darkness.

Scene 6

In the darkness, a distorted voice.

A distorted voice: “You want to listen and you don’t listen.”

He’s in bed, blinking his eyes open. In his pajamas.

His partner in the other room says: “You have to straighten yourself out, babe. It’s time to go, we have to get to my appointment…” The sound trails off into a white noise buzzing. 

He gets out of bed. The noise continues. 

A distorted voice: “FFFFFFLLLLLYYYYY OUUUUUTTTTTTT….. LOVE YOUUUUUUUUUU.”

He walks out of the room and into the next. His partner is not there. This scene is kind of freaky, creepy. He looks at the ground. It’s a Tool from House Icon. The Tool waddles across the kitchen floor. “SEE YOUUUU SOOOON, MANNNNNN!”

He looks out the window.

The view from outside, across the street. The house he’s in, and him in his pajamas in the window from far away. A mysterious unknown voice narrates: “My eyes are closed. In my head. I’m on the other side of the street. A dog is barking. It’s in a car nearby. It’s loud. The windows are rolled down. There’s a family at a table. A mother, a father, and a daughter. A young couple walks into the store. The mother from before leaves the table to take a picture of the fancy car that’s parked next to the store. This is all real.”

Scene 7

Bright White. Fading into… A strange experimental perspective. He walks to his desk and opens a tab on his computer. He starts writing a blog post on his own blog. He titles it “The Finished House:”

“When the House is Finished You Live in it. The Work is Fulfilling. The Structure is Fulfilling. It’s Face is Fulfilling. And its Roots are Fulfilling. You can only Finish the House if you Know You Can do It. You have to Put Yourself in the House. A Small Version of You. It will Live in the House Forever. You Live in Your Finished House and You See it from Outside. This Is Perfect. Please Enjoy Your House. As You build it, and After.

“But if all You ever Do is Live in Your House, You have Failed. Foster. Collaborate. Build the House and Share It. Share the House. This is how the House Lives Forever. This is the Secret to Immortality.”

He looks at the post for a while. Behind him stands the bizarre man. He highlights the blog post-in-progress and deletes the entire thing. He opens House Icon. He looks at his huge house. Some Tools at the base of the house have begun making their own small houses. 

The bizarre man: Alright, let’s wrap it up.

END.