Daring her to fulfill the promise
that was whispered. The traces of
hair left behind. He walked across the street in the pouring rain in
order to hail a cab. The problem became apparent when he noticed that
he was in the middle of a cornfield. She had stumbled upon him while
shopping at a thrift store. 50% off of free. She twirled around the
store as though she were trailer trash walking upon an open floor
planned home with plush carpeting for the first time, only to spin
herself directly into his arms as he turned away from the record
stacks. Their life together became another concept of togetherness. As
they spent every waking hour holed up in a small apartment just above
an old family owned Chinese restaurant. One day, while he was walking
the streets, another wondered her way into his life. But, it was too
late, for she had already done the same to his mate. The last thing he
remembered was this…
She sits down at a table in the
crowded restaurant. Forgetting that she
had left her lipstick, she quickly jumps to her feet and hurriedly
walks back to the bathroom. Only to return to find that her small table
in the corner of the restaurant is now being occupied by a strange man.
She timidly approaches him. When she arrives, he continues to read the
newspaper. He turns the page. She notices that he is reading the paper
upside down. His peripheral vision witnesses the expression on her face
as one of discovery. So, he brings the paper down to the surface of the
table and slowly raises his eyes to hers. “Yes, it is a crazy, crazy,
world isn’t it?”
At first I was the patient of a 65-75
year old doctor with an oval
office. The extra body was an intern, he was around 30 years old and
had dark wooly hair that stood slightly upward. He was nervous and not
yet rehearsed. The elder was as rehearsed as a block of wood and by the
end of the appointment, he had become as tiresome as such. The son of
meat remained rigid and understandably frayed, the old man was pulling
all the most excruciating stops on the kid and he knew it.
The one-liner's ricocheted and the nerves bounced off the walls of
meat. "L P O (or is that C) R S T" then, the left eye. This banter was
over-extended a touch longer than it needed to be. One must learn,
short and sweet. "Have you ever had a serious illness?" said Mr. Meat.
I answered, “no, never.” I am taken back to the room of rusted
instrumentation, where I’m ordered to strip to my shorts. An eternity
10 minutes later, I’m peering down at a roll of fat. To my dismay, this
"roll" is connected to me. "I see that you have made a discovery!" I’m
ordered to sit at the edge of the paper black bench, Mr. Meat strikes
my knee-caps and listens to my heart pump my blood. "You can do better
than that!" pertaining to the spread of my cheeks. Cough, cough...
Breathe, breathe... I leave the closet after being felt up and
"So, are you going to vote for Dan Quayle!" I admit to my decision to
never vote again only to receive a series of judgments and presumptions
about being a gun owner. He ends our date by making a shitty little
quip about social security, but, fails. Amidst his failure, Mr. Meat
states under his breath "do what it is that you do best...wait."
Although he is correct, I feel insulted and violated regardless by his
cowardly attack as I sit and wait for a copy of his op-page of health.
Months later, long after I’d left the office for the comforts of cold
falling rain and the gray skies, while driving by Mr. Meat’s office…I
saw that someone had scrawled “FUCK YOU” in stark red spray paint
the walls of his circa 60’s oval office. And…I couldn’t think of a
She appears to him as an
Sitting in a cafe, he eats a veggie
sandwich and potato chips. He drops
the sandwich to the plate and raises his left hand to rub his eyes.
Just as this is occurring, a young woman dressed in a snug plaid skirt
and red turtleneck sweater enters the cafe. He sees her in a hectic
fit, as the salt from the potato chips has blurred his vision. He
furiously tries to clear his sight, though all he can make out are
glasses bobbing toward him then large dark hair as she passes by.
Cross the bridge
Once a calico cat was strutting
across a grey stone bridge when a
little girl, maybe ten, with golden hair and porcelin skin skipped up
directly in front of the cat. The two looked in each other's eyes for
quite some time. Then, the little girl took to smiling at the cat and
with her left foot...she kicked the cat over the bridge, then, skipped
off around the corner of a building. I could not believe my eyes.
Immediately, I hurried to the edge of the bridge. Only I felt nothing
but pitty for the poor cat as it drowned in a panic just before it had
time to reach the shallow end.
She was a well-rounded woman in her
late thirties. She was fat, pushing 300 lbs. and showing every ounce of
it. Every day she
would hit both the cookie and the soda machine during her break. No, I
mean literally HIT both machines. The day that she
forgot...was the day that she never returned to work.
He had a face with too many corners
I noticed, as we drove to the site. We arrive and he immediately starts
to dig. An hour later and he's a few thousand dollars richer.
"I know how you got the money," I said.
A sick feeling came over me and an ill look appeared on his face. He
jumped in the car without saying a word and left me standing at the
side of the road. If he's lucky, he'll live to see the sun rise. As for
me... I'll be lost for a while.
And I was blue striped
set off by a sphere of blinding light, that stood suspended in air. The
atmosphere was thick, as she cut through it with her piercing ignorant
beauty. Naked, she sat down. I can feel vibrations of sound, coming
from the other one. She spoke, with an silent whisper, of despair. The
replies were so deceptive, issued with ease. I felt her body quiver,
her fear became desire. And as their lips met, nuns with tears in their
eyes appeared through the glass window. Seeping in the brains of two
victims, sin left them spellbound, by an experimental radiance. Falling
into an abyss, of starving madness, the nuns were preyed upon by the
holocaust of imagination. And the two naked bodies, lay across my
stomach, I can smell their flesh. Shadows dancing on the walls that
peer, through the darkness. Plunging expressions, spill over the edges
of time, I remain silent and still. Still and silent, I remain, as more
expressions spill. One egg after the other, slip in between the breaks
of my skin.
"You know, my darling Meredith, this can not go on forever."
"Time, will not wait."
Are the words that remain suspended in air. High above, I, this blue