E KOI

Adieu

Patrice phoned Andre from the station. A storm had passed through, and she’d been abandoned. The tour had fallen apart, the guide guileless and resentful of tourists, which is not an asset given the circumstance and the position, informed them he’d had enough. He’d had enough of the gossip, the chatter, and the drama from a small flock of club-women from Savannah. He called them "empty-headed finches.” Andre chuckled, “tsk tsk…”

"Yes, He claimed, as a group, all encompassing mind you, that we stank and had the intelligence of toads."

“Finches and toads. That’s a bit harsh. Sorry. My countrymen….some of them…can be quite rude…” Andre sympathized.

“No more so than mine. I won’t say I disagree about the finches, either.”

“So we have our buffoons. Humans are fools, as a group, I fear.”

“Aren’t we though?” she laughed.

So? About your being stranded? Are there no cabs? Surely in this weather…”

The canal has washed out a bridge. The other is congested. I am stuck for awhile, but someone will show up.

Why don’t I…?

No. Don’t do that. It would be insanity to get involved in such a mess, and the weather could get ugly again, I fear. I’d worry for your safety. And Dooby is starting to show her age…”

Andre laughed. His Renault was nickname Dooby, because he loved to play Sinatra, top down, and croon aloud, “dooobie doo be doo…” Foolishly they’d drink wine and drive for hours over the countryside, then find an inn to dine and finish the night.

“Good times with old Dooby. But you are right, she’s having some issues of late. I could borrowed my neighbor Jean’s, car.”

“The Ferrari!” she laughed.

“He’s a good guy. He would let me…”

“Not in this weather and he’d be right! I will sit and bide my time.”

“Are you warm? Where you are, is there heat?”

“Yes, now there is. It was a bit bitter in the night, but toasty at the moment. I’m almost dried out.”

“Poor dear.”

“No, actually I am good. A kind lady gave me a shawl. Quite a beautiful shawl…well worn, but warm, and most generous of her…”

Is this Lady heading into town? Perhaps…”

“No she was outbound. Heading South to see her family. Their father had passed away. Funeral.”

“Too bad.”

“No, she said it was a relief. He had suffered.

“then all the well, to stop the pain.”

“Her sentiments exactly.”

“Are you alone? Safe?”

“There’s the station master and a few rail men. A handful of business men and some working women. A quiet bunch huddled around the stove right now.”

“I enjoyed our visit.”

“As did I.”

Where the...'H' ?

mean little bastards mucking wit your head

Last Jive

Sitting in on the rambling ranting of a bitter ol’ man:

There’s too many of ‘em so there’s no fighting back. Be done-crushed under the heavy wheel. The heavy wheel don’t stop for no man. The heavy wheel don’t stop.

What’s that noise? HA!…that’s the armor plate clanking. You’re starting to rust up, old man. Your brain is stuck and your joints are sticking.

It all hurts, godamnit. It all hurts.

Of course it does. Did you think your exit would be graceful?

Never thought I’d find myself like this.

Welcome to your age. 


Fuck you....


Oh, and I see you chose our popular “Isolation Option”, affording you the very finest in a solitary exit. Loneliness can be oh-so private!

Don’t need no one.

Of course. That is your choice. This world is of your making. However, You might be more grateful…

Grateful for what?

The opportunity to participate.

That ain’t funny. Mine was a miserable life. I got no one to thank.

You got no one to blame for being so miserable either.

I am. But it ain’t like I called you. You come looking for me.

Misery loves company.

Miserable is right, and You ain’t company. You think yourself a comedian do ya? Pat little answers…jive.

Jive is alive within the pathos of life, my friend. Pulsing blood. Gibberish to mask the pain. Sometimes jive keeps you alive and you just gotta go Ya! Ya!

Past that point where it matters to me.

I can see that. Would you like to leave ahead of schedule?

Is that allowed?

Of course, you know the line, he died ahead of his time?

Yeah?

I’m usually quite prompt, but it’s never ahead of time. It is simply “Time”.

Then Damn you too.

They usually do.

Dawdler

The cat was patiently pondering a moth that fluttered mad against the window glass, frustratingly close but still safely distant. I watched the scene anticipating the moment the cat decided...
That’s when I saw the guy exiting his car, parked right there. I noticed he zipped his pants when he got out and stood up. Made me suspicious and a little put off. Didn’t care to know why. He had sandy blond hair, thinning badly, especially on top, from my view. Wisps. He patted them down. Dressed preppy, nice and neat. Polo shirt, some creamy peachy color that did not compliment his rather pale complexion. Had moles or freckles on that fair skin of his. Like he sunburned easy. Wispy is a good general description. He was slight, his polo tucked into khaki pants, belt cinched tight down to the last belt hole. Trim but his movement bothered me. You can tell a lot by the way person carries himself, his character. Tall, rail thin lanky. Chin lacking. He definitely had a hint of a slink. Serpentine. His eyes were active almost suspicious and he failed miserably to meet the eye of a passerby, never tried. He made his way up the stairs to the landing and I heard her bell ring. You can hear because the buzzers are mounted just behind each doorway, within each tiny vestibule, and it echoes down the hall, you can tell by the sound, the distance and the door it came from. Hers was number Seven, down toward the end on that side, opposite me. Test me if you want I have been here twenty-four years, I know the buzzers.

I haven’t seen her in almost three weeks. That’s a little unusual but her work has taken her away before. Can’t really tell the difference since she’s so quiet when she is home…there is no difference. Except for the occasional doorbell. I think gentleman friends would come to call. There was an incident...it could have been him... 
On this particular occasion I saw the shadows pass under the door, two pair of feet sneak down that way late one night. I imagine she met him at the door so he would not have to ring. It was a calculated rendezvous. Why else try to sneak by? The quiet ones can be deceptive. I never met this particular caller. Ever. Never set eyes on him again. For all I know they had only the short dalliance and one or both may have decided it was a mistake or served it's purpose. They often are, or do. Best let a mistake slip quietly out of your life as quickly as it approached and passed through. No sense dawdling in hopes of something meaningful. I’ve been here twenty four years…I’ve seen some dawdling. Never amounts to much, and often worse. Maybe it wasn’t meant to be meaningful. Maybe it was meant to be fast and carnal, and the deed got accomplished. Maybe his zipper was his problem. Or hers. Who knows? I am not one...

aloof

LUNCH MATES

Estelle and Ethan had a regular encounter at the counter of The Corner Cookpot…lunch mates on daily dates, sharing stories, splitting plates. Neither inquired about mutual mates. It was lunch break, after all, but from which they were sometimes late, each caught racing down the halls, back to the desks, dress slightly disheveled, hair a bit messed. Smiles, sly and private, once they catch their breath, both most productive and feeling elated with the risk.

Each day a Daily Special. Sometimes a common favorite between them like beef stew Tuesday, then a separate plate on other days. Her’s was Thursday with the franks and beans or, the mac and cheese… and his?  Friday, with the fish. Most often they shared.

'He’s tracking me,' she confessed on the first night as they shared a pint of Seagram’s in the sedan's back seat.

She was on the run from a guy that scared the b-jesus out of her. But she seemed to desire him just the same. Some Destructive lust simmering to the surface on random occasion. They would talk on the phone. He swore he’d find her, and she dared him to stop.

Why?….why would he track you? And why so hostile?

Oh I don’t know…maybe because I had his baby and gave it away.

That would piss me off.

It did. But where does that put me if I keep it? Some tit for this prick's illegitimate seedling? I will not spend my life in the tow of some vicious freak, dragging me down to the bottom, bound to kill me once the kid can mind his own.

It was your seedling…child, too.

Not now. Gone. He’d take it, kill me, take it.

And yet you call him. You sick?

I know…I…

You thinking with your...?

Pussy? Yeah, kinda…

You just outlined your own boundaries. Dangerous decision. You decide.

I know..I can’t…I…”  interrupted by ringing

That would be your call. I just might say goodnight.

(Yeah right, you might. G’night)…..Hello? What do you want?

As he took the stairs her voice echoed louder down the hall and highly heated as he descended, stopping only when he hit the street and the door whispered shut behind him. Light from a full moon. He walked home remorseful, knowing he was getting involved in a troubling situation between two volatile and unstable people. Two months ago he was so bored he wanted to end it. Now? If he could keep it at arms length…