Victory

Everything ached and hurt like hell, and still he didn’t care.  Walking was hard now, and there was whizzing in his breath. Still – he was walking out and breathing, which is more than he could say for anyone else at this point. He laughed. The cracked ribs signaled off with stabbing pain.

“This is temporary, just for now,” he thought as he looked at his bruised and swollen hands, the shredded knuckles. “But I win.”

He started laughing even harder. The lungs seized with pain, bending him in half, leaving him gasping for air; and yet – still laughing.

“I won!” He gurgled, spitting blood on the gravel. The broken nose started bleeding again, adding fresh stains to his torn shirt.

He looked back at the warehouse – having to turn his entire body because the neck was stiff and immobile – and again yelled, “I won!” The fingers on the right hand didn’t bend very well, but any observer could figure that he was flipping the bird. He then started walking – stumbling – along the gravel-covered dirt road, still laughing, whizzing, and coughing up blood.

True, though

Aside

I’m rather in debt

Back

“Truth is,” he said with a mix of sadness and confidence, “I was never in love with her. But it’s also true that she was, is, and forever will be the most important person in my life. It took me a long time to realize this – she mattered more than love. Never did I think that it could be like this, yet here I am. I’ve loved many, before and I after I met her. But when my memory dims, in the very end, hers is the last name that will still be sparking.”

“You’re a fool.”

“Without a doubt. The whole thing is decidedly foolish. But that is how it is. I’m sticking with it.”

“You’re prepared, then?”

“Yeah. Hell, my life is just a handful of broken pennies. It’s all I got, and it won’t even begin to repay what she’s meant to me. Let’s do this. Take it.”

In the desert

Crusty, that’s exactly how it felt. Also, swollen and sticky. Even the sweat started tasting sweet. Vision became blurry a while ago, and everything had been in pain for so long, the hurt actually began to fade. The pain distributed itself more or less evenly throughout his body, and he could no longer remember which parts were actually broken.

“Is this how I’m going to die?”

“Yes,” said someone.

He nodded, accepting both the news and the hallucination. Less of a nod, and more of giving up trying to hold up the head. He tried to cough up some of the dust in his lungs, but didn’t have the strength. Whizzing was the best that he could do.

“Fuck you,” he squeezed out.

“That’s inappropriate,” said the hallucination.

Giggle

Aside

I may be overthinking this.

Yea

“I… ha…” he started, then grinned madly, stuck his hands in his pockets and stared at his shoes. Half breathing, half giggling he wrestled with that one word, that innocent simple word that has both the lightness and the weight of the whole world. The he looked up at her again, smile stretching ear to ear. Maybe he didn’t need to say anything – his composure betrayed every last syllable already.

Sitting on the counter, she leaned forward with the same grin, listening and waiting. Her shoulders were drawn up, her whole body wound up like a jack-in-a-box. The muffled giggles they shared was perhaps the best conversation they’ve ever had.

“I’m in love with you,” he finally managed, and started laughing uncontrollably, nearly falling down. Somewhere in the incessant stream of laughs and giggles pouring from him, the word “LOVE” kept bobbing up over and over again, sparkling.

And she – she just beamed.

Running

Aside

Behind a bit. We’ll catch up.

Begin

Running feels free. It’s almost like being able to fly. Your lungs suck in the air, expanding to their greatest and fullest. Your breaths are almost too large to fit inside your chest. Maybe that’s what makes you float. With your feet barely touching the ground, houses sprinting back, and the sun racing through the tree branches to keep up with  you. How fast are you going if the sun itself has trouble keeping up. There is no cause and no goal, no destination. The drunken sensation of speed is all the reason. You are not chasing anything. Everything else is left behind to chase after you instead.

You can break away from the world. You are free.

Relaxed

Aside

Buzzing, bubbling happiness.

Weee

As the bagel slowly slipped into place, flowers were springing up everywhere. A certain aroma arose in the air, heavily reminiscent of chairs and tigers in bloom. Everything was right and pink. It was such a fulfilling sensation, to be near all the action, what with the monkeys typing away on the infinite keyboard while the sun was setting over all the people at the mall. The kind of sight that comes hugged by candy wrappers, a truly once-in-a-lifetime hamburger. People came from far and wide to witness this, and now they all stood like trees, full of squirrels, warmed by the sun’s pencils. A celebratory song came over the crowd, the sure sign of a left turn.

“Strapon,” the man said dutifully.

Determined

Without a moment’s hesitation, he swung the door open and stepped into the night. It greeted him with raging wind and a sharp slap of rain. The hero walked forth without so much as flinching. The wind whipped around him, tearing at his coat. The rain came at him with vengeance, soaking every bit. He didn’t even try to protect himself. The coat billowed around him uselessly, and icy water soaked everything within seconds. There was no reason to protect something of so little consequence that was going to be lost anyway. Time spent buttoning down meant time lost. Eyes narrowed to slits, he walked on. The sense of purpose was so clear, the steps so familiar that he could have gone on blind.

There are things to do, he thought. This was all the moral imperative, all the reason he needed. His purpose, solid as a granite cliff, was all he needed to carry him forth. The furious gusts and the bitter rain tried to choke him in vain.

For all its misery, this madness felt warm. No comfort like the simplicity of action.

He grinned, and quickened his step.

Start talking

The barrel of Byron’s gun pinned Dev’s head to the wall, with almost enough force to crush his skull. Byron leaned his massive figure into Dev, silently staring at the man pathetically squirm like a bug. For a minute, the only thing that broke silence was Dev’s nervous giggling. Dev kept rolling his eyes around, trying to catch a glimpse of the brute, but Byron stayed out of his vision.

“I’m gonna ask some question. You gonna give me some answers,” Byron spoke finally.

“What if I don’t?” Dev squeaked out.

“That’s not an option.”

“Who are you that you think I’ll talk to you?” Dev was trying to turn himself around to make eye contact with Byron, but that was like trying to push a brick wall with your hands.

“I’m a tweaker with a gun to your head. I’ve killed for far less. I got a clip full of bullets with your name on ’em. And I doubt I’ll miss from this distance.” Byron leaned more heavily. Dev felt like he might black out soon.

“Bullets? That’s a quick way to go. The Boss would do a lot worse if I told you anything, man,” Dev was cracking. Tears were streaming from his eyes, he was laughing and giggling between words. He kept licking his chapped lips.

“He ain’t here. I am. And in case the gun wasn’t fun enough, I also brought knives.”

Dev stopped laughing. Panic was threatening to shatter the remainder of his wits. He was hyperventilating and whizzing. It sounded like his throat began to close up. Byron stuck his free hand in his pocket and started fishing for something.

“But most importantly, I’m the only guy around who’s got your fix,” he said holding up a disposable syringe filled with clear liquid.

Music

Aside

Tom Walbank.

Slowly

He wasn’t playing the guitar. He was a conduit for the guitar’s voice. Sitting in a chair, hunched over – almost curled around the guitar, pouring forth blues. This was the kind of blues that casually strolled along the room, between dancers, between the drinks, and then, with a devilish grin, reached into your chest, gripped your heart, and filled you with the best kind of sadness. You looked back at your deepest heartbreak, felt it all over again, except this time you drew strength from it instead of pain. You felt alright, you moved with the music, and you uttered a satisfied, “Yeah…”

There was no stopping it, this blues. It reigned. A tiny space packed with people, all of their heart beating together, in tune with this music. It went between a gut-wrenching slow draw to a fast mind-blowing fury. It pinned you to the wall and made you stay. It made you forget the reason you wanted to leave. It embraced you and whispered in your ear.

It made you fall in love, and then it left the building. You were still sitting there, grinning like a fool.

Skip along

Aside

Foul language. Watch out.

Darn foul

“Alright, but only a couple. I got a thing later. I promised my wife we’d go.”

“Right. I can’t get wasted tonight either. I got a big interview tomorrow.”

…

“So then this chick, the model right, she’s like, ‘So you need a ride up town or what?’ And I’m like, ‘Fuck yeah I do!’ A fucking model asked to give me a fucking ride, how I could fucking say no, fucking right?”

“Fuck yeah!”

…

“Wait, what time is it? I’m late! I gotta make a call…”

“Sit your ass down. We’re not done here.”

…

“I gotta… I gotta say this. You listen. I fucking love my wife. I love Mary. I love her, man, and if not for her, I’d fucking shit right now, you know what I’m saying?”

“I hear you, man. I’m gonna get the good stuff.”

…

“I dont’ feel so good…”

“You know what? Fuck my wife. Fuck her! She’s always getting in my shit, and she’s putting me down, and you know it hurts. It real fucking hurts! I feel bad, and I got the right not to, you know, feel fucking bad!”

…

“You’re being real quiet. You alright man?”

“Have I ever told you that you are, like, a really attractive dude?”

…

“I feel the room… the room is moving.”

“Fuck you house! Get back here!”

…

*barf*

“I never… never told this to anyone. I totally have a thing for Mary.”

…

“What are we doing man. You know? This is dumb. You and I… we should fuck this shit. We should get a farm and leave all this shit behind.”

“I love farming!”

…

“Dude… dude… it’s the sun.”

“What, you mean like they made a new one?”

…

“Well, it’s time I suppose. We should do this more often, man.”

“Yeah, totally. Say hi to Mary.”