Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Vagrant







From the onslaught I couldn’t help but stare at her lips. So flawlessly shaped in a way that they upturned just slightly off-center. Her lower lip; pillowy and supple. Her upper, with just the right amount of perk but not so much that it seemed rigid or taut. She had an innocent grace to her personality that covered a deeper impersonality. It was just right, yet it was off. The light shone enough on her that the most attractive qualities stood out, but what was left behind the shadowy depths of the flat black sheet?

There were a few freckles on her face that stood out only when you put her in the right light. It was like forgetting how beautiful the sky above is, even though it’s there every night. But so was she, right? Yet for how long?

You end up going by, day by day, wondering why it is you follow the same routine in such a tedious regimen. On one hand, I felt the urge to do something dazzling but what good would it do? The sky would look the same no matter what angle you stare at it from. We each could create our own constellations if we really were adventurous, but what would be the point of that? If someone, hundreds of years before, laid it out for us – what’s the big deal? Accept what’s been done and move on – no need to fuck around.

I asked her to sit on the grass and pose however she desired. She looked back in what was a combination of a blank stare and an empty sense of unease. It’s not that she didn’t know what she wanted to do, but rather she wanted to know if I’d be ready for it. Instead, the silence between us continued on, if only for a slight interval.

She began to move around – softly and with grace – taking care that nothing became too disheveled or too disrupted that it’d ruin the moment. I smiled a heartfelt grin, but only inside. I couldn’t bear to let her know how much the subtleties of her movement affected me so deeply. By then the light was dimming, yet I knew the opportunities were still there.

The next morning I forced myself to guzzle whatever was left in the carton of orange juice. I disliked the tart taste given off by the sinewy fibers of pulp, but then again, why would I complain about that after all that has been done? There’s a difference between your daily dose of vitamins and your daily dose of happiness. Sometimes you have to flip the two in order to get the proper nutrients of the day. Needless to say, afterwards I had some flapjacks.

Hours passed by - sometimes days - until we found another hitch. It usually was signaled off by a slight gesture of the hands. But location always came first.

We picked this one up when no one was looking. The two looked restless but had a lot to say. We decide to let the two tell their stories from the past – unpolished tales of devastation, resentfulness and misplaced platitudes. I called it blind preaching. Not only do you lack the proper background and disposition to speak such claptrap garbage, but you should also respect who’s in your general vicinity.

They didn’t stop - even after the time strayed elsewhere with the waning hours. At times it was primal; at other times it seemed a bit deluded. No one really knew what to do in this situation other than to ride it out. By the end, everyone was tired and sentiments had been spilled. The floor was covered with the props of haywire tumult, left to decay until someone gave a shit to put them back – even if they didn’t match any more.

The two left, unasked, and disappeared some time later. There was no need for a discussion or even a salutation. What had been done was done. Yet as I took off and snapped a brief glance back, I realized one of them had left something behind. A memento, or maybe even a token. It sat there, perched atop the seat he had been at.

I ended up pocketing the bit for my own sake. To me it was a sort of payment or appreciation – for what we had just been through or what had been shared. But before I could savor what had just been done, I made an abrupt swerve to the right. I could feel the force shoving me against the side, pressing into my flesh.

Baffled by the rapid transformation, my eyes scanned across the horizon to get an idea as to what the fuck just happened.

Oh. Fuck.

I had been driving on the wrong side all along.

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