Podcast: More than One Day

The More than True podcast returns with a vintage story about spies, Russians, shoes, USA electoral politics, and raisins.

It’s an audio rendition of the story More Than One Day in the Life of Igor Igoravitch, from the collection Hard Fought Illusions of Choice. Enjoy. It is strong. Like Stalin.

“Winner Winner!” by Kevin MacLeod (incompetech.com)
Licensed under Creative Commons: By Attribution 3.0

“Someone Else’s Memories” from the album The Politics of Desire by Revolution Void licensed under Creative Commons Attribution License 3.0.

Brideshead revisited

‪Frankenstein’s bride‬

‪Fit to be tied‬

‪This, her special day‬

‪Felt so brand new‬

‪Did not know what to do‬

‪No father to give her away‬

‪It struck her that day‬

‪Wandering, astray‬

‪She’d no identity, her own‬

‪So she did express‬

‪Her feelings depressed‬

‪All that monster did was moan. ‬

Moan moan moan

All that monster did was moan

Take me right home

You big Green chaperone

I’d rather be

By myself all alone.

Groan, groan, groan

All that monster did

was groan

Please let me be

You’re just not for me

I can tell that you’re swell

There’s no need to yell

So I might just be

Throwing a bone.

I’m alone, I’m alone I’m alone

Sitting here on this

great big throne

Thinking of picnics

Hayrides and mischief

Wondering where to go

All alone

Then it hit me

like a bolt from the blue

My hair stood straight up

For you, only you

I’ll make myself nice

And dress to entice

And pretty soon people

will be throwing

Sticky rice

On our wedding day dear

This is true

For my eyes are just for you

Only you

One green and one blue

You know what to do

Am I not your

Monstrous dream come true?

I know just what I’ll do, do you?

I’m coming for you, yes you

Oh, it’s true!

Your house on a hill

A horror double bill

My darling dear darling

Doctor Baron von Frankenstein!

(I’m marrying a doctor!)

Just Zep on in

“And I am a great businessman,” Zeppo said, really swinging the ladder. “You got that right. And funny. Say, did you know I catered my own wedding?”

“How’d that come off?” Carl said.

“I am pleased to say without a hitch,” Zeppo said. “Served animal crackers and duck soup. Didn’t last. She was Daffy. Oh, I get enough of that at home.”

“I understand,” said Carl. “Most marriages end in the home.”

“You can say that again, doctor,” Zeppo said.

“I said, ‘Most marriages end in the home,’” said Carl, glad to be of service. Zeppo was such a nice man. People tended to fall all over themselves. It was a concern. Even now.

“It was then I sent you that letter,” said Zeppo. “Requesting our meeting.”

“It was a strange thing,” Carl said. “An opening and a closing without the part in the middle.”

“I didn’t think that was wholly necessary,” Zeppo said. “Ipso Facto. Superfluous, as my brother Harpo might say. So I cut it all out. Swept it under a rug.”

“Well it really left me,” Carl said, “hanging.”

“Sorry doc,” Zeppo said. “Vaudevillian’s curse.”

Carl thought there must be a better way to enter and exit a Zeppelin, and someone would surely cash in on that in the future. However, upwards. To the inner Zeppelin. The guts of the thing.