Small streamers flap continually in their uninteresting existence of being attached to an extremely cooling air conditioner. The lights are bright. In one corner, slouched in an easy chair with his legs splayed out before and his chin on his chest, is a not-really-that-attractive man in his 30's, naked. Not a drop of sweat on him. He's cool, so to speak.
Off to his right, hands on her knees, perfect posture and an over abundance of goose bumps, sits our heroine. She looks in no particular direction. Her knuckles are white and the tops of her fingernails are the dark pink that can only be attained by too much pressure on the tips of the fingers. She clears her throat. She too is naked.
Someone looks at their watch.....
Monday, July 16, 2007
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
I Should Have Kissed You
We spoke of pain, death, hope, love and change.
Sitting in the dark, playing with your hair;
tucking it softly behind your ear.
I love you.
I should have kissed you.
I'm sorry.
Sitting in the dark, playing with your hair;
tucking it softly behind your ear.
I love you.
I should have kissed you.
I'm sorry.
Sunday, July 02, 2006
Repost from LiveJournal: October 18, 2001
I bought a new tie last night.
I had needed to return a cordless phone that wasn't charging quite right, and figured it wouldn't hurt to have another tie, since I currently only had two that I ever wore. I found a very tasteful one with gold, black, blue and silver in it. It matched some of the khakis that I have so I bought it.
After finding a suitable replacement phone for the despondent one that was sitting at the service desk, I took my new tie, and some socks that I needed to one of the new "check yourself out" stations and proceeded to scan my purchases. When I scanned the tie, the monitor made an audible popping sound and then lost all trace of blue in its image. It also said my tie cost $77,466.66. The price tag said $12.99, so I asked the person who stands and watches the automatic cashiers to reset mine. She did, and once again I swiped the barcode over the machine. This time, the screen went black.
"Fuck it," I thought and gathered up my merchandise and went to stand in a regular line.
Turns out the cashier had to enter my tie in by hand, but the price was $12.99. Plus tax.
On my way out of the store, I watched the following events unfold:
A pre-teen girl (maybe 12) ran up to a lady who was with her cart. The full cart held among many other things her baby girl, who from my estimation looked no older than 3 months. Without warning the girl pushed the mother so hard and violently that she fell into and knocked down a battery display. Upon completing this odd act of aggression the girl straighten up, and looked around to see many people looking at her and the fallen mother. But none of the onlookers, myself included, had gotten over the nonsensical and seeming spontaneous way that all of this had just happened. When she registered that no one was responding yet, her face took on a serene quality and she bent down and grasped the bar that ran along the bottom of the aforementioned, baby and grocery-laden cart with both of her hands and proceeded to pull up, tipping the cart precariously on its two side wheels more and more as she pulled.
The laws of physics can be a real bitch sometimes, and this time was no exception. At the pivotal point, the two wheels that still remained on the ground rolled swiftly and silently toward the girl and the cart fell sideways, spilling its contents onto the grey-speckled linoleum floor. A can of tuna hit the floor hard and started rolling. A jar of what might have been Alfredo sauce shattered sending white creamy glass shards in all directions. The infant never came out of the seat in the cart. As the cart was tipping the child slowly shifted right, and when the cart fell the child accompanied it. Although the noise the cart made when it hit the floor was loud, the dull thud that the little girl's head made as it finished its descent was equally distinguishable. Immediately a bright red halo began forming and growing around the child's head. Where it met the Alfredo sauce, a thin pink line formed.
Something hit my foot.
I looked down just in time to see the can of tuna fall over onto its flat side, leaving it stationary at my feet.
I looked back at the cart disaster and saw that the preteen girl had carefully sat cross-legged on the side of the overturned cart, leaning forward so as not to fall off of the slightly inclined surface. She sat with her hands in her lap, no expression at all on her face, looking at my flimsy plastic bag of purchases.
This is when the rational side of my brain decided it needed a vacation. As people began moving towards the scene of the accident and the mother extricated herself from the Energizer display, I bent down picked up the dented can of tuna and put into my bag, next to the $12.99 tie. I walked briskly out of the store and to my car.
I still cannot remember any of the drive home or the rest of the evening, or what would have possessed me to take that can of tuna and walk away, instead of trying to help with the situation. And why was that girl so calm after what she had just done? And why was she looking at me?!
I woke up this morning feeling like I hadn't slept at all. The tie and can of tune lay on the floor in front of the television. The can proclaiming "Sunkist" in big red letters across its partially dented side, apparently wasn't aware of what it had been a part of the night before, and was now a sick reminder of.
I looked at the tie. I had made a wise choice. It looked better than it had when I was considering buying it. I wore it to work today.
As for the can of tuna, I hadn't gotten up the nerve to even touch it this morning. But I think I will have it for dinner. You're supposed to have at least one serving of fish per week, you know.
Going to work today, I was in the front of a group of people who were all heading for the open elevator. With a few extra quick steps I was about 5 feet in front of all of them. I slipped into the elevator and quickly pushed the door close button. With my thumb still on that button, I put down the things I was carrying in my left hand and pushed my floor buttons with my free hand. I am not sure why I did that, but the people on the other side of the elevator door sounded pissed, and it was a lot of fun for me.
On the way up, I noticed, in the reflection on the doors, that my new tie really looked good on me. I adjusted its knot a little.
Since I didn't have any work related things to do, I spend the better part of the morning grinding up my acetaminophen(for headache and fever reduction) pills that I have (well, used to have) in my desk, and mailing product descriptions to some of the company executives. I only put maybe 3 pinches of the powder in each envelope. It has to look genuine, otherwise, what's the point. That'll be fun to hear about on the news in about a week.
I have been thinking about what happened last night, and maybe that mother sort of deserved what happened to her. I mean if she can't even see a 12-year-old barreling towards her and her baby, maybe she is unfit to be a mother. Maybe the 12-year-old just hurried her back onto the track of her life that she should be in anyway. With the amount of blood that I saw and the sound it made when it hit the floor, I am pretty sure the baby was killed. Better it happen now, than at some later point in the child's life where the irresponsibility of the mother might get even more people hurt or killed.
I had five compliments on my tie when I went to lunch this afternoon. I tried the Indian food place that is about a block from where I work. It was good, spicy too. One person actually told me he would kill for my tie. I dared him to, and he gave me a really strange look. It's just as well too, because I wouldn't have given it to him even if he had killed someone.
On the way back up the elevator, after lunch, the other guy in the elevator had a heart attack or seizure or something. I'm not a doctor so I just continued looking at my reflection in the doors. Looking at and making small adjustments to my amazing tie.
I love this tie!
I had needed to return a cordless phone that wasn't charging quite right, and figured it wouldn't hurt to have another tie, since I currently only had two that I ever wore. I found a very tasteful one with gold, black, blue and silver in it. It matched some of the khakis that I have so I bought it.
After finding a suitable replacement phone for the despondent one that was sitting at the service desk, I took my new tie, and some socks that I needed to one of the new "check yourself out" stations and proceeded to scan my purchases. When I scanned the tie, the monitor made an audible popping sound and then lost all trace of blue in its image. It also said my tie cost $77,466.66. The price tag said $12.99, so I asked the person who stands and watches the automatic cashiers to reset mine. She did, and once again I swiped the barcode over the machine. This time, the screen went black.
"Fuck it," I thought and gathered up my merchandise and went to stand in a regular line.
Turns out the cashier had to enter my tie in by hand, but the price was $12.99. Plus tax.
On my way out of the store, I watched the following events unfold:
A pre-teen girl (maybe 12) ran up to a lady who was with her cart. The full cart held among many other things her baby girl, who from my estimation looked no older than 3 months. Without warning the girl pushed the mother so hard and violently that she fell into and knocked down a battery display. Upon completing this odd act of aggression the girl straighten up, and looked around to see many people looking at her and the fallen mother. But none of the onlookers, myself included, had gotten over the nonsensical and seeming spontaneous way that all of this had just happened. When she registered that no one was responding yet, her face took on a serene quality and she bent down and grasped the bar that ran along the bottom of the aforementioned, baby and grocery-laden cart with both of her hands and proceeded to pull up, tipping the cart precariously on its two side wheels more and more as she pulled.
The laws of physics can be a real bitch sometimes, and this time was no exception. At the pivotal point, the two wheels that still remained on the ground rolled swiftly and silently toward the girl and the cart fell sideways, spilling its contents onto the grey-speckled linoleum floor. A can of tuna hit the floor hard and started rolling. A jar of what might have been Alfredo sauce shattered sending white creamy glass shards in all directions. The infant never came out of the seat in the cart. As the cart was tipping the child slowly shifted right, and when the cart fell the child accompanied it. Although the noise the cart made when it hit the floor was loud, the dull thud that the little girl's head made as it finished its descent was equally distinguishable. Immediately a bright red halo began forming and growing around the child's head. Where it met the Alfredo sauce, a thin pink line formed.
Something hit my foot.
I looked down just in time to see the can of tuna fall over onto its flat side, leaving it stationary at my feet.
I looked back at the cart disaster and saw that the preteen girl had carefully sat cross-legged on the side of the overturned cart, leaning forward so as not to fall off of the slightly inclined surface. She sat with her hands in her lap, no expression at all on her face, looking at my flimsy plastic bag of purchases.
This is when the rational side of my brain decided it needed a vacation. As people began moving towards the scene of the accident and the mother extricated herself from the Energizer display, I bent down picked up the dented can of tuna and put into my bag, next to the $12.99 tie. I walked briskly out of the store and to my car.
I still cannot remember any of the drive home or the rest of the evening, or what would have possessed me to take that can of tuna and walk away, instead of trying to help with the situation. And why was that girl so calm after what she had just done? And why was she looking at me?!
I woke up this morning feeling like I hadn't slept at all. The tie and can of tune lay on the floor in front of the television. The can proclaiming "Sunkist" in big red letters across its partially dented side, apparently wasn't aware of what it had been a part of the night before, and was now a sick reminder of.
I looked at the tie. I had made a wise choice. It looked better than it had when I was considering buying it. I wore it to work today.
As for the can of tuna, I hadn't gotten up the nerve to even touch it this morning. But I think I will have it for dinner. You're supposed to have at least one serving of fish per week, you know.
Going to work today, I was in the front of a group of people who were all heading for the open elevator. With a few extra quick steps I was about 5 feet in front of all of them. I slipped into the elevator and quickly pushed the door close button. With my thumb still on that button, I put down the things I was carrying in my left hand and pushed my floor buttons with my free hand. I am not sure why I did that, but the people on the other side of the elevator door sounded pissed, and it was a lot of fun for me.
On the way up, I noticed, in the reflection on the doors, that my new tie really looked good on me. I adjusted its knot a little.
Since I didn't have any work related things to do, I spend the better part of the morning grinding up my acetaminophen(for headache and fever reduction) pills that I have (well, used to have) in my desk, and mailing product descriptions to some of the company executives. I only put maybe 3 pinches of the powder in each envelope. It has to look genuine, otherwise, what's the point. That'll be fun to hear about on the news in about a week.
I have been thinking about what happened last night, and maybe that mother sort of deserved what happened to her. I mean if she can't even see a 12-year-old barreling towards her and her baby, maybe she is unfit to be a mother. Maybe the 12-year-old just hurried her back onto the track of her life that she should be in anyway. With the amount of blood that I saw and the sound it made when it hit the floor, I am pretty sure the baby was killed. Better it happen now, than at some later point in the child's life where the irresponsibility of the mother might get even more people hurt or killed.
I had five compliments on my tie when I went to lunch this afternoon. I tried the Indian food place that is about a block from where I work. It was good, spicy too. One person actually told me he would kill for my tie. I dared him to, and he gave me a really strange look. It's just as well too, because I wouldn't have given it to him even if he had killed someone.
On the way back up the elevator, after lunch, the other guy in the elevator had a heart attack or seizure or something. I'm not a doctor so I just continued looking at my reflection in the doors. Looking at and making small adjustments to my amazing tie.
I love this tie!
Thursday, June 29, 2006
June
She sang to me that night.
From across the room I could feel the glow of her body heat as I sat on the edge of a mattress knocked askew of its frame by desperate and urgent love. Startled, I turned to look at her, under the influence of an irresistible force governed by some unknown law of physics. It would be stupid of me to say that I chose to look at her; as she began to sing, a singularity winked into existence at that end of the room and mercilessly sucked my gaze into it.
She sang without apparent pattern or acknowledgement of my attention. She sang without reserve or modesty. She was singing to me but all the universe was listening.
She sang the grace of raindrops, the sorrow of stones, the inescapable motion of time;
She sang the joy of motherhood, the cold black loneliness at the depths of the ocean, and of the fatal threat of apathy;
She sang of motes and galaxies, equally beautiful and meaningless.
She sang to me that night.
From across the room I could feel the glow of her body heat as I sat on the edge of a mattress knocked askew of its frame by desperate and urgent love. Startled, I turned to look at her, under the influence of an irresistible force governed by some unknown law of physics. It would be stupid of me to say that I chose to look at her; as she began to sing, a singularity winked into existence at that end of the room and mercilessly sucked my gaze into it.
She sang without apparent pattern or acknowledgement of my attention. She sang without reserve or modesty. She was singing to me but all the universe was listening.
She sang the grace of raindrops, the sorrow of stones, the inescapable motion of time;
She sang the joy of motherhood, the cold black loneliness at the depths of the ocean, and of the fatal threat of apathy;
She sang of motes and galaxies, equally beautiful and meaningless.
She sang to me that night.
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