The Details

 

I would not be so crude as to ask you to screw, but if a lewd interlude is what you had in mind, then may I be of service, Madam?

Pardon?

Oh, I think you heard me the first time. But just in case, allow me to repeat…

I don’t… No.

And?

I heard you the first time.

...and?

There is no “…and” in that regard.

I’m afraid you have me confused with someone who takes a refusal, casually. I do not.

Oh, Do.

If by chance you should show me to your boudoir…

Not a chance.

… I will open the Doors Of Passion…

Doors of Passion…?

The Windows of Ecstasy…

You going to clean my house while you’re at it?

I don’t understand?

You got the doors and windows covered, so I just wondered if you do the whole house.

Oh, I can do the whole house, alright!

Hands and knees...

If it pleases you...

Down to the details?

Of course.

The devil is in the details, I hear.

This devil will be in your every-detail, Madam.

Excellent. Take this, and report to my Maid first thing Monday morning. She needs help, she’s injured her hip. She will fill you in on 'the details'. 

V

f'

V

SIN IS A BITCH

 

Why me? Why come bothering me? I’m too old for this shit, and shits too old for me. Colon cancer. Nothing I can do about it, too late in the game…fourth quarter’s almost over. It’s a blowout.

So I tend to my books, so my records are clean…clear…I meant to say ‘clear’.

( Let me know if you should ever find a human being with a “clean record”, will you? I’ll call you a liar, if I still can. But I’m afraid I don’t have much time to give you, for your search. ) 

As for that record...I doubt it reflected well on me. But the crimes, they were all crimes of passion. There was never anything physical, that is, no physical distress. There was a lot of ‘physical’, to be sure, but never harm. Emotional is another matter. I tried to keep everyone happy, but I couldn’t arrange it. Got complicated…got sloppy…three times got sloppy, and, boy, did it cost me. 

You want the litany, I got all day. I have to assume so anyway…

Young women, two employees and an associate…impressionable, too damn impressionable. They shouldn’t have fallen for my bullshit, but they did. It was just like shooting fish in a barrel, and I held the gun. But eventually the barrel split…shot to hell, and there was a terrible spill. Floundering everywhere. I still held the gun, but it was empty. Spent.

Sonofabitch, the trouble I caused…

So I die alone. Everyone does. Said my goodbyes years ago, but no one listened then, and no one hears me now. Don’t go writing this down. It doesn’t matter. The same mistakes are being made as we speak; Sin is bitch, and she’s ready for anything. Wish I could give it one more ride, but Sin lives on, while those that perpetrate it, perish. 

V

THE WORMHOLE

 

It don’t matter much, how we got here. This is either the end of the story, or the beginning. I’ll just have to see how it plays. Does it play out, or does it play on? A strange dilemma, to be sure. I’ve found a dent in my invincibility…a chink in the armor…not much of anything, barely a wormhole, but there just the same. So, my dilemma - do I invite the worm in, or do I patch the hole? You see, this worm knows something, it’s a worldly worm, and it says ‘get outa your skin’. Imagine that, get outa your skin. At first, I was like you, and thought it best to patch and forget it, but this worm had a way of crawling inside your mind and creating a certain havoc. This havoc wasn’t something new, but it was so long ago forgotten. It was akin to panic, to the darker realities, groping for a way out. This worm spoke to me, ‘get outa your skin’. I didn’t know…at first, I thought I was going mad, but came to realize it was a mad world, and none of us is safe, or sane. So why not partake?

Partake in the greed, the gluttony…sadism, and cruelty – get them before they get you? But that would take some great effort…a heroic effort, and for what? I have come to know my invincibility was a sham, my armor, paper thin and full of chinks. Whoa is me, my pride’s been shattered, my ego, strewn upon the rocks by a raging sea, chum for some other bottom feeder to feast upon. But one must have a plan, and tonight, I’ll cozy up to my mescal, ask for the worm’s good graces, and find a way out of this skin I’m in.

V

A MOST DREARY DAY

It was like having the crystal clarity of the moment, snap back to blur. The hustle continues, and the moment didn’t happen. But it did. Was it the look in her eyes? Were they angry, tired, or just drawn blank? They lacked emotion and for the first time he saw it. The emptiness. The cold abyss of nothingness. Crystal clear. It was over.

He packed his bag carefully, more carefully than he’d ever packed before. This counts, there’s no going back, so best be selective and careful not to forget.

Take a cab to the airport two hours early because he had no alternatives.

 

They ran cold 

as a witches 

britches, 

which, I understand 

can be quite

frigid

He wasted time

making rhyme

Awaiting

his departure

His was a wasted talent

An underachiever

An ‘almost was’,
but  a true 

Believer

Hours passed

Departure Delayed

terminal emptied

a price to be paid

This wasn’t his life

but one he grew

to  endure

The moments

they dragged by

until he reached 
a conclusion,

curled up,

and died.

 V