Wednesday, April 21, 2010

Three beers

The car was dark. Its interior was lit by the street lights. The door opened. Shoes scuffled on the parking lot tarmac. The brightness of the motel sign was a brilliant neon. It drew wayfarer's like a moth is drawn to a lightbulb. The keys opened up the room. The bed was blanketed, and tucked. The two pillows on the bed were plumbed. A television sat silently across from the bed on a series of drawers, waiting for a spectator. The shower was hot, no one else was showering this late at night. The tepid water tank could handle the heat of one shower at the late hour. The warm water rained down. The soap lathered then fell into the drain. The complementary towel was made slightly damp and hung back up. A shirt was buttoned, pants that were slightly wrinkled were put on, and a razor that could cut away an evening's beard laid fallow.

The bed sank under a man's weight. The television came on from the response of the remote. The news of Los Angeles filled the room. The glow of the screen filled the room. The audio occupied the room.

"Amid the worst economic downturn since world war two the Metropolitan Transportation Authority is planning to increase fares for the first time in two years to help offset a $204-million gap in its operating budget for buses and rail systems..."

The liquor was dissolved in the mouth. "Whim is a hard thing to beat," the bartender had said. "I haven't seen you in a long time, what are you doing here? No matter, what will you be drinking?"

The liquor burned in the stomach. The dizzying effect of alcohol was only felt after the fifth. The jukebox swayed back and forth in time to music. "Is there an escape," the bartender asked without moving his lips. "Can you possibly get away from her? Coming back here, its just an excuse. You're drawn to her like a bee to pollen."

The ceiling spun for a moment then focused. The white ceiling danced with images. It faded into darkness. The dark of night still hung in the sky the closed window shades unneeded.

There was a knock at the door. A short staccato. The room reverberated with the noise of another series of knocks. The bolt was undone with suspicion. The room was lit with her presence.

The white blouse clung to her, like her skirt, both forever hugging her body. The heels of her shoes were sharp points and inch high. The stockings hit the short dress. The lines of the leggings ran long. The coat was momentarily on, then put on a chair. The chair waited for more clothing to be put on it longingly.

The room filled with voices.

"You have obligations."

"I am here anyways."

"You didn't want me before, and I don't want you now."

"We are stilted lovers."

"Who said we were lovers."

The chair was covered with more clothes.

"I like the hidden. I like unsaid lovers, I like being someone, then the real me, some more authentic person shining out saliently in secret."

The room reverberated with sound of flesh.

"You think I'm opaque?"

"Its like we're in a bedroom. In the bedroom is a bookshelf, and a window. Very normal. The bookshelves take up the majority of the room, but all the inhabitant ever wants to talk about is the view out the window."

"I like the feeling of your chest."

"Why are you here, you are obligated."

"Its so far."

"What about the distance between us?"

"You're here to serve a purpose."

Commands were given. They were obeyed. The room brightened with pleasure. The bed was filled with afterglow.

"We can stop at any point."

"We're not stopping at the spot I want, we're stopping at the point that you've regulated. You chose to meet me here, we could have stayed somewhere else where all of this wasn't possible. A parking lot, a friend's house, a church..."

"I don't want you talking about me."

"I thought we were talking about me, how egotistical I am."

"You have a mouth like a crocodile. Your smile is as wide as a mile with the same intent."

"As the reptile or as in the distance?"

A finger ran along soft tissue. Eyes looked on other eyes.

"My heart has four chambers."

A hand was placed near a beating muscle.

"Each chamber pulses regularly, for a long time the fourth chamber was shut down. My blood was poisoned. The chamber broke down out of disgust. I could taste the poison in my throat."

"I've only been so honest with one other person."

"I can taste the bile in my blood. "

"Do you talk about me to other people?"

"No, not really, maybe."

The overhead fan spun quietly. Goosebumps appeared on skin. A body searched another for comfort. The other body lay fallow.

"The thing I like about you is that I know you're going to fall for me."

No comments: