Von Tripp the Sublime

Poor Mrs. von Tripp. It seemed that the universe had conspired to make her life miserable. I speak in the past tense because Mrs. Von Tripp is no longer with us. But in her absence, I realized that her story is too ghastly to remain untold.

Like any person, she had been a little girl once. Everybody’s been a little girl once.

She had been loved; disappointingly so. That horrid experience of her early life left her with a scar that forever altered her perception of love.

She had been ordinary in school. So miserable was her life that she was forgotten on picture day and never made it into the school yearbook.


Seriously, like, every year.

No record – except her diploma with its bizarrely written letters – proves she had a formal education.

Not to belittle her, von Tripp was decent in school. She was a human, after all. She had the power to understand, and what a power it was. Legends are written about people who understand; but sadly this is not a legendary story but a sad one. Von Tripp never understood her power and never harnessed it. The saddest thing in the world is misunderstood power, unused power.

She’d been the proto-average student. She was quiet and, throughout the years, she mostly went unnoticed. High school is a nightmare for most children, but for von Tripp it was the most unrewarding experience one could ever have. She was a mere observer. Her observations drove her into a deep, heavy solitude; she would drag its weight across her life.

This, coincidentally, was the period where she experienced her first contact with love.

He was a handsome boy. Fair, with a subtle tan and a square jaw that would put a cube to shame. He was her dream. She’d dreamed – that sad little girl – of a life of joy and smiles, laughter and hand-holding where for once she could look at someone and call him her own. Someone who was a shoulder to her, someone to mature with, and someone to hold her down and do stuff to her.

Like shave her legs.

The boy with the subtle tan had other thoughts, though. Thoughts of how to keep that eternal tan and how to forever have teeth as white as snow. He knew of her existence only once and that was when he tripped over her in 9th grade. For that one instance in her life – for that brief nanosecond before the Tan held onto his friend’s shoulder – von Trapp existed. Someone had noticed her for a small portion of time.

The Tan had tripped over von Tripp.

That was her greatest adventure of that time, her eye of the storm. That year she was due for her first grown up May Day dance. Do I need to elaborate? Do I need to write about this horror? It’s like a bandage, the sooner you get rid of it, the better. The pain – although momentary – may be too much for my frail heart to bear. It is too sad. The word ‘unfortunate’ may be overused by now.

She got the Mumps two days before the dance. And so, von Tripp’s fate got tripped again. The dance was missed and von Tripp’s cheeks inflated to the size of a terrestrial satellite. They shone with the trickles of a million tears, shredding and tripping her heart.

She sunk deeper into the despair that was her life.

Cats and Alien Invasions: Part One

The TV is on mute, but the lady on Fine Living channel looks like she has an annoying voice – I can tell by the veins popping out of her neck whenever she moves her stiff jaw.

I look at the cat. It isn’t my cat, but I think we both have a silent understanding about the hierarchy of power and how it is distributed under this roof. The cat owns me, and pretending to have the upper hand around him is useless.

The lady looks at me like I’m crazy. I have been narrating the previous paragraph out loud while staring at the cat. The lady gapes at me: “The fuck is wrong with you?”

“The fuck is wrong with you? You’re inside the TV, so stick to your own business. Go back to your failed, economically friendly, organic and chemical free beauty products. God knows you need them.”

“God is dead, bitch. Geez, I’m just asking you out of pure concern. It’s so sad to see bright and young people getting swept away by the power of demonic creatures like that godforsaken cat. You look dehydrated by the way. You might want to consider trying out my supersonic skin hydrate.”

The cat turns his head nonchalantly towards the TV: “The name is Orpheus, you fucking dimwit. I’ve been aware of  how much you watch us through the screen. Go back to being a wannabe dermatologist. This is your first and last warning.”

I stare into space, just trying to make sense of what’s going on. I am speaking with a cat and a lady on TV, the lady on TV is speaking with the cat and me, and my cat is speaking with the lady who’s on TV.

My flow of thoughts is interrupted by Orpheus: “Turn off the TV and pet me with your eyes.”

“Wait, Orpheus, your hair looks dry and rough, I have the perfect sol__”

I turn off the TV and move my eyes along Orpheus’s fur.

“Good. That’s enough for now. My friends have arrived. They’re outside. Open the window and greet them.”

I open the window, and there’s no one there.

“There’s no one there, Orpheus.”

“Look up to the sky, you fucking idiot.”

I look up and there’s a huge oval UFO, made of some sort of metal, hovering over the building I live in. A beam of rainbow colored light shines on my face, and I shut my eyes tight. My eyes start burning but I open them again slowly to see that, at the end of the light beam, there’s an opening. A strange looking fellow stands on the side and gives me the peace sign.

“Orpheus, who is that?”

“I told you it’s a friend. Now come lift me up and stand near the window again so I could greet him.”

I lift him up and go to the window.

“Hey Ramsey, How you doin’?”

Ramsey gives him the peace sign. “Yo, Orpho, got anything new for me?” Then pointing at me, he adds, “She looks like fresh meet.”

“Nah, she’s too dumb to be experimented on. But the lady on Fine Living channel, the one with the annoying voice…”

“Say no more, Orpho. That bitch has it coming.”

The beam of light is turned off, and Ramsey sticks out his middle finger to me before disappearing inside the huge oval. Moments later, the oval disappears as well.

“What did he mean when he said that I look like fresh meet?”

“He was speaking English right?”


“Well then, it’s clear what he meant. Now take me to bed; I’m tired.”

I open the window again and nonchalantly throw Orpheus down from the 20th floor. I look down to see if he’s dead, but all I see is him being sucked up through a rainbow colored spotlight with his middle finger raised up. As soon as he disappears into the UFO, the machine turns around and reveals a cockpit. Orpheus and Ramsey stare at me from the inside, and I give both of them the middle finger. A thunderous sound comes from the UFO. Apparently the douche-bags have decided to prepare their weapons and aim them at my window.