When he came back, they were going. Leaving? Yes, but mostly just going.
It was go time.
I put sweetener in my hot chocolate. Not because it wasn’t sweet enough, but because I like the taste of sweetener. Plus I like to add things to other things, whether they need them or not.
And she was coming to see me and I was going to see her and I was going to see her and I was going to see her and she was coming to see me and I needed to talk to her and to respond to her and watch a film with her and we needed to make ourselves uncomfortable together.
We were muddled by a tender’s hand: mashed and mixed and stirred and served…and consumed.
It was some sort of sign of human endurance, some proof of the spirit of needy-yet-needless, stepped-on-yet-happy, polluted-yet-autonomous, the fair breath that is everything that everything else is…with no space for the eccentric, they were centered in the middle of the world. They had nothing to say but still they breathed. We had something to do, so we started doing it and one day we stopped, looked to the sky, breathing, and asked ‘what was that again?’ We looked around for the answer, shrugged, took another bite, and got back to work.
And why not? We know we don’t believe in legends or in heroes anymore. And we know we don’t believe in becoming anymore. So just go and stand where a gentle hand holds your back upstanding and breathe the fresh, cool air of Spring again.
(I don’t trust an unambiguous sentence)
Maybe it’s just relief. Maybe the thought that it doesn’t matter anyway brings me an incredibly calm sense of relief. Maybe life isn’t so pressing after all…she just walked by with Ray Ban sunglasses and a rat tail. She was grinning. There is nothing to be judged, nothing to not be loved, the cool collect of a cork on a pond. Spring is here; now the buds will slowly swell.
1 comment:
"Plus I like to add things to other things, whether they need them or not."
WTF? This one slit my throat this morning. Damn son.
My only comment (am I allowed to give constructive criticism?) is that the switching between frist, second and third person took away the power a bit. I wanted it to just be a raw story about you, and maybe a little bit about people, but mostly I can infer when it's for humanity. It's so sweet and dark at the same time, like so much of your writing. Delicious.
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