All InThe hazy blue neon sign sputters and flashes its iconic message.
Black weathered boots trudge silently over a cemetery of wooden planks stained with dried vomit from those who were unable to stomach another day.
He buys his courage – Scotch, neat.
The waitress has told him the menu is precise. No sharing of entrees. Tonight’s special is vertigo, cowardice and rice pilaf. Steamed broccoli can be substituted for bravado if he is so inclined. He asks for an extra napkin.
And still... damn you!! Damn you to hell!! I await your arrival! I pretend you're not there while the smoke of your fake cigarette stings my eyes and your daggers stab my belly.
Just last night you made love to me as you plucked my integrity and balanced it on the tip of your Romanesque nose. I licked my wounds and lay in moist cool grasses, never recognizing the sound of your footsteps. Your black boots shuffle through the weave like a thief in the night, parting the fabric of my reality like silken veils shredded by the cruel north wind.
I thought there was no harm, so I truthfully replied. No harm! Truthfully! You tasted me in that moment, and salivated. That was my price! That was my price!!
In the season of my madness my dimensions are a fractured kaleidoscope. Geometric forms without cohesiveness, tumbling into chaos.
And still…I curse another day!! I lie here in these cool moist grasses longing, begging, for you to bring me back from certain death.
The price no longer matters…I’m all in….damn you…damn you to hell…
Vignette 51-55, F 3 Responses 3 May 19, 2012