The old man was true to his word. He promised to bring me back a bottle, which he did. As he also promised we’d drink together again. I read his face. Expressionless. Hardened. A swirling sea of swirling lines - a mess of memories. I met him a year ago in the usual spot at the usual time as I told the usual tales to nobody in particular.
Shimmering subconscious shadows flickering across the silver screen of falling snow. A surreal scene, so synthetic, like a Japanese anime. Frozen water floats by suspended in mid-air slow-mo magical calm. Yellow smiles rotten teeth and bloodshot eyes as my companion and I sit in stillness in the dark on a park bench shivering cold passing the brown bag back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. As we spoke in tears of fifteen years of wasted life.
Have you any dreams you'd like to sell?
Dreams of loneliness...
Like a heartbeat...drives you mad...
In the stillness of remembering what you had...
And what you lost.
Numb.
Numb.
Junk dreams. Set scene: twitching arm, torn couch, rotten bowl of Cheerios and the shivering sound of a twisting coil of maggot. Alcohol burn meth-rage replaced with numb. Need to sleep. Needle full of junk. Need to sleep. Crushed Thorazine fairy dust dripping down my throat and it tastes like shit. Need to sleep. Stupid eyes as Bugs Bunny and friends flicker across dead retina. Rods and cones refuse to fire… only white noise across miles of rusted wire. Deeper and deeper in space and a million miles below… so damned cold. Listening to the steady beat of leathery wings.
Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, I’m hunting rabbit.
9 comments:
There is an attention to sound in your writing that just makes it wonderful to read. Despite the darkness, it is beautiful.
Thanks for the inspiration.
(I even picked your discarded title out of the trash - hope you don't mind.)
I'll have to tell the story about the time I found myself eating a nice bowl of Cheerios that was infested with maggots.
Thanks for rekindling a rather, well, unpleasant memory. Hah.
(Being vewwy, vewwy qwiet.)
Are you SURE we don't socialize with the same caste of friends, senor?
Hermes - you know I have become a huge fan of your writing since finding The Dive Bar Verses. I have read some from the archives, but not all. I'm wondering...would you be so kind as to point in the direction of something you've written, which does not evoke such dark emotions? Although, "listen carfeully..." does end with a hint of light-hearted humor. I think.
Then again, I suppose the emotion evoked is all dependent upon the interpretation of each reader...based on his/her own life experiences. Just answered my own question. Never mind.
über alles.
Hermes - downright nightmarish in tone, all the more ironic in light of the cartoon imagery. well done!
(Note to other readers: I am not the "old man" in this particular post)
Hmmm. Reminds me of William Gibson at his deepest, darkest, bestest.
P.
you lovely monster, you.
Live for the Pen. I always try to adhere to certain "beats" when I write. Be it to a tune or my own heart. Thanks.
Trite R. Glad I could finally inspire you for once... being that it's usually the other way around.
Scribe. Kind of like that scene in "Lost Boys" when Michael is eating the rice.
Desolation. I'm pretty sure we do, or maybe we don't and I think we do. Like gringo's, they all look alike.
Brighter Death. Sure. Sharing is caring. But who's buying?
Exploring. In the archives, specifically between the months of May through July of 2005... there is a lot of light-hearted fluff... er, I mean stuff. Thanks for the props.
Extraspecial. (Note to other readers: I am not the "old man" in this particular post)
Never believe a drunk. ;)
Phaedrous. Cool comment. Weird parallel but I'm flattered all the same. Thanks for stooping by.
G.D. A lovalable, neurotic, friendly monster though.
Like Tellie on Sesame Street...
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