Sunday, April 23, 2006

--He'll listen

I see them all through the run of a day but they only really talk to me at night, wherever that may be.

The rapists, the floorcleaners, the widowers, the lampshade repair men, the captains, the sons, the victims, the happy, the confused, the high, the unconscious, the writers, the broke, the restrained and those plotting revenge.

We have many different conversations, I am indifferent. Sometimes death will visit; he prefers to talk at night as well. He is also indifferent.

They talk because they want to know, such is the price with perspective. I remain silent because I know. Shelter is hope and this is the fuel of will. I am birthed from the womb of rationality. A smiling mute who cries at the sum of cruelty and the overwhelming chasm of joy.

--Who's side are you on?

"Are you still awake?"


"Ha-Ha, very cliche"

"What is it? and if you turn on the light I swear to god I'll scream"

"Well.. it's just that.. I feel like I should come clean with you about something"

"Well I'm certainly awake now, what is it?"

"I'm sort of angry that you didn't ask to have that side of the bed."

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean! You think I don't realize what you're doing when you get up for a 'drink' and then come back and get into bed from the other side?"

"I really think this is a coincidence, you're saying I'm a side stealer?.. so you want this side is it?"

"Well you certainly didn't ask for it!! And yeah, I do want that side!"

"Alright have it! And while you're at it, here take my side of the moonlight, and here I'm sure you want some of this air on this side as well!!"

"Oh I suppose you just.. roll into a new job and take whatever desk you want? Is that how the world works?"

"I don't have a desk. You know that."

"I know you don't have a fucking desk!!"


"Wanna have sex?"

"Let's do it on my side."
Her torsoed words struggled, syllabic limbs flailing at Leroy's ears, but to no avail. The woman below him was just one of the many, why should he really listen to their voices?

"I'm scared..."

Pathetic, spoiled bitch. Leroy was going to enjoy inflicting this harm on 'Mrs. Stevenson'. He looked down at her, he mascara running down her cheeks as she stared wide eyed at the metel instrument in the man's hands. "You took a gamble, and now you have to pay the price."

"It's not fair!" she shouted before breaking into another fit of sobbing.

"Be that as it may, this -is- going to happen. It's for your own good anyways" Leroy responded coldly, a small grin to cap off the statement. "Now stay still, it'll hurt less."

Mrs Stevenson instinctively flinched and shied away as Leroy brought the source of all her fright closer to the woman's body. The absolute fear eminating from her eyes followed the instrument and her breathing increased dramatically. Still, after the initial flinch she managed to stay motionless.

Leroy brought the needle about an inch from the skin before skillfully, and quickly plunging it into the vein.

Mrs Stevenson bit her lip, utter hysteria boiling steam out of her nose.

"And we're done!" Leroy said, wishing it could last longer.

"It took you long enough!" Mrs Stevenson exclaimed angrily.

"Just remember whatever happens in Vegas, doesn't stay in Vegas. Next time it could be herpies."