he looked so innocent lying there on his cousins daybed fondling her Min Pin
his bright blue eyes and ultra pale skin was alway engaging in Canada but in Sunny California they looked completely out of place
the dog didn't care but his cousin's daughter was an estetition and she was drooling to get out her hot wax and go to work on those eyebrows
this was his usual visit
was it a birthday?
it wasn't a usual Holiday
it was the Canadian holidays that allowed him to fly down and get that several times a year sunburn that inevitably blistered and then peeled
you know the kind that made Canadians stand just a little straighter around their cohorts up North
because it signified some extra spending money he'd scraped together and an adventurous spirit on his part
if they only knew
he loved the roller coaster
the big one down at the bay... the oldest wooden roller coaster left in the US of A... that's why he was headed down there... and that's why he was getting a hard on just thinkin' 'bout it...
yeah that's why
who was he kiddin'???
blonde is the magic
he thought
blonde is the scheme
blonde is the eloquence
that dwelled in his dreams
his
dark
cold
ravenous
BITTERLY BLONDE
dream
Crosby Still Nash and Young was scratchily playing in the background
the soft female music lured Kerry and he... both loved the old word smiths of the 70's
she beckoned her cousin to drift out to the patio for a New Yorker
a smart relevant up to date drink made to be gulped rather then sipped... which they did and waited for the giggles to start... it wasn't long before they were flailing in the wooden deck chairs... his cousin actually fell out of hers... grabbing the chair as she tumbled onto the grass.... he looked toward the curb thru their laughter .... then got up and headed for her Mustang convertible...
it's time.. he thought.. to go hunting...
Kerry saw him set his chin in a resolute sort of way and a shiver ran down her spine...in her mind
she saw the sign posted on the beach
BEWARE OF THE SHARKS
he knew his cousin had entered the Ms Del Mar Cougar contest again this year but he never thought of her as a Cougar..... but she was like one of those sumptuous women he sought 45 thru 55 crowd... she was slim and still so good lookin'' her looks made most men feel like they'd been socked in the gut with a below the belt punch..... definitely there was a reaction below the belt
she had come in second a year ago
he thought her bright red hair made it a cinch for her to win but the non-freckle loving judges had given her the thumbs down 2nd place to a nearly 60 year old silver fox... wearing a fabulously simple gray straw hat and dove gray gloves to her elbows
such is the sensuous life of the awe inspiring woman of a certain age
he hurried over to Delmar for the 7th race licking his lips in anticipation
not of the ponies but of the sensuous seniors all decked out for opening day
inside he never was without the PAIN...PAIN...PAIN... pain...pain...pain... never ending...intolerable...vehement...excruciating PAIN
they writhe they say...when they're close to death...and see at last there's no way out...life has given them all it's chosen too ...there's no higher power to call on...no going back over it if you want to hold your head up and slip the bonds of earth with any amount of grace...... that snake is invisible and internal
two stiff drinks and an abundant selection of woman who know their way around a man and that peacefulness of forgetfulness comes calling and let's you wake up the snarled fluffy tortured neurons
intrigues the synapse to the rhythm of the dance ...allows them to welcome the different drummer....have that feeling like the little duck...eager to approach and reconcile itself to that brand new day QUACK QUACK DUCKIES.....may they be that way for me today!!!
to dissipate his memory of his darlin of old
she had been his little plum dumplin'...his all arms and legs eternal flame...the blonde to end all blondes...his heavenly havoc...his sexual domain...the woman who made his soul ticklish....the diminutive diva of days gone by never to come again....the Harri Kari knife he'd fallen on....the choking in his throat whenever happiness deduced he needed an infusion
the one he fell toward and never reached...but was blest in the falling to lift his eyes and there she was peeping out at him from GOD's garden...his adorable little "cabbage head"
he didn't have enough bandages...not even a tourniquet would stem the flow of blood quickly enough to save him..he knew he deserved to die...but he couldn't...that would be too easy...way to easy so he grew horns and moles and long deviant hairs all over his now gnarled body but stilled walked upright as beautiful as he ever was on the outside after she'd left him
and no one noticed he was becoming a monster...no one at all
he didn't often look for her anymore...those kinda women didn't exist except in the days of yore when men were men
and women were women
and men were glad of it
youth and stupidity drove her away...and the perceived rightness of his male stubbornness
men and rightness...how important it was then...to be right when simply her arms around him made the sun come up... her lying there like "a warm Texas breakfast".. smelling so much like sleep and womanliness... his little little little woman/little girl
Kerry was discontent with her long morning drive to work but the new condo wouldn't be a rental and it sat smack dab on the sand down near the ocean...Bill would love it..he like Kerry's BFF Lynner was born and raised down here in Imperial Beach
just a stones throw from Mexico... in the day when fences weren't up to act a a divider of boundaries between neighbors hands clasped in friendship across the border..... Bill met Kerry when she was a fired haired teen...and he was a hotshot naval pilot still living on his laurels of being a fighter pilot in Viet Nam...he was throughly unhappily married...had a son...and only gave Kerry a passing glance..even tho the curvaceous redhead had a certain effect on him walking down the sand in a bright white skirt that furled out to catch the wind and red blouse that pulled across her ample breasts and made them seem like two puppies squirming to get free
she was still moving when her cousin showed up and Booker hadn't been any help to the two of them at first.... but eventually he offered to dig right in and help them unpack the new place.... most afternoon he'd do the work and let the two of them kick back in the hammock and just drink Long Island Ice Teas and relax... but at nite in IB when it was very late and there was no moon he couldn't resist getting nakid and heading into the surf to dip beneath the water... body surf in on the waves...and watch the shoreline...for what...what was he watching for what
sometimes he seemed like a happy animal frolicing in the surf...and she'd laugh with Bill about it
and Bill never thought anything about Bookers behavior...afterall... he was a Canadian
but Kerry knew something deeper was going on with Booker
something you couldn't blame on Canada
...his vacation was nearly over...and altho she in many way always enjoyed his visits in other ways she couldn't say she was unhappy to see him leave
she didn't want to get to know his dark side
David had to pull over to the side of the road...... (his brain felt like that fried egg searing in the pan that was in the 80's commercial about drug use... the needle went into the bottle...the fluid went into the tube...his brain erupted into flames..and down down down he went into that "i'm not sure how long it'll be before i see the light of day again" drain)
then she appeared
she hovered...she swooned into his body and encapsulated the heat....trying to save him from the pain but the dark essence pushed her away cowled and narcissistic she instead reach out to torment and triplicated the burn she floated in it...as if she couldn't warm the ice water in her veins and the Arctic chill in her bones
she turned and undulated like meat on a spit begging for the sickening roast he saw her vulgar lecherous smile before he slipped again into semi-consciousness curving and sliding up at the corners of her mouth.... and her crimson eyes....ever laser fine targeted again on his soul slowly his eyelids closed as he drifted away....and halted his long but expectantly beautiful along the Pacific's coastline
these spells were coming more and more often
it was time to go home
so much of the trip was ocean viewing and he never got tired of seeing it
waves of water to eventually turn to oceans of wheat barley and rape dancing in the winds or being harvested in Canada's heartland. .. mountains getting ready for snow...the jagged saw tooths of the Canadian Rockies far surpassed any view of the Rockies below the 49th...sea terns rolling and gliding thru an overcast sky
soon he'd be taking that Transcontinental Train thru Canada from the left coast to the right coast
and the dreams of a prairie boy eager to both love and hate the small towns of the plains....... so much of the trip was ocean viewing and he never got tired of seeing it oceans of water to eventually turn to oceans of wheat barley and rape dancing in the winds or being harvested in Canada's heartland.... mountains getting ready for snow...the jagged saw tooths of the Canadian Rockies far surpassed any view of the Rockies below the 49th...sea terns rolling and gliding thru an overcast sky
he had learned to speak French..badly at first...then like a Quebec native when he jumped on the train in Ottawa he had a slight headache so he didn't fight the drooping eyelids he spent most of his vacation fighting the feeling
he leaned his head against the steering wheel of his cousin Kerry car as he drifted away he'd seen her..his muse...enveloped in deathlike irony with ravens flying out of her screaming mouth was she readying herself to send him her vicious final attack?? but he had no time as he drifted to think about it
how many beautiful women want him dead...more then you could count on your fingers and toes combined.... he'd spent his whole life falling in and out of love.... he was a scoundrel of that even he was sure
maybe he was a sociopath...or maybe he was just hard hearted..his sexual energy drove him to depths and places few could return from
and many didn't want to
bad boys...sweaty cannibalistic bad boys...probably every woman and man at sometime in their lives have succombed to one and lived to both enjoy it and regret it
he was a charmer...a definite sociopathic trait
with women he delicately tread that careful path of intimacy to reassure and influence them...until they thought that he and they were like two peas in a pod
just all warm and cozy as he nuzzled them gently under their arms....let his lips dance on the pulse of their necks...adding fuel to the fire as their pulses quickened and goosebumps flooded over their bodies
but before it was over it was always the same..he would disappear like a will o the wisp without an after thought
and that was the best ending to a scenario with David
it could be worse... with sharp cutting things... it could be their unhappy ending
Kerry was looking at the the sketch her cousin had drawn of her daughter when the phone rang
Kerry couldn't just phone Lynner to tell her the bad news after David left
the sad upheavals of her life had to be held in loving arms
and stroked away with loving hands that communicated the unconditional love she
had for her best friend from high school
Booker hadn't ever closed in on Lynner and her appreciation of him was profound
he could be the gentle protector and with Lynner he always was
she found her friend down by the wetland...
staring out over the bird estuary staring into the moving grasses and watching the bird dip for small sealife and caught fish when the tides rushed out
Lynner had fought the good fight
relinguished herself to the wrong kind of men
and withstood their deadly blows
she was scarred and fragile but one would never know it from the way she carried herself
she had been born to be the bubbles in Champange
and she still bubbled on the surface
and her eyes twinkled beneath the bruises of lovers young who stopped by to relish her remarkable body
and sup from the rare delights of her nubile soul
only Kerry her dearest friend was tortured along with her at the fledgeling promises she made to herself to get it right someday
to mean more then just an enjoyable repass for a man who was just stopping over on his way to somewhere else
but why milady
my smile is so sincere
am i a fledgling horror
just beneath my kind veneer
i'm singing the changling song
it sounds so sweet
a tenor's fragant epitaph
it soothes today
but for just how long
you shouldn't try him
fry him
defy him
die him
sacrifice him
upon your sensual flames
slice and dice him
here i'll loan you the knife
the one you need to end his life
never fear
he'll bleed out
his blood so red and clear
or sew his lying lips
disregard his fitful eyes
those tears aren't real and no surprise
just the tools of his rotten game
the ones he uses to 'cause you to be shame
he was on his way and floating in the haze with the clickity clack of the rails when his mind turn to the one
she stepped up on his porch...wide tomboy smile...slouched into a patio chair and held her hand out in a way that could be interpreted as a "shake my hand" or "please fill this with something cool"...her mind was like a buzz saw...and her mouth followed the sawdust as it flew with it's own momentum into the air
her baseball cap was turned backwards and her wispy blond hair could barely find it's way out under it
"i'm your new neighbor"
"i thought i'd come over and introduce myself"
she then told him her name which he couldn't remember...shook his hand...and hop down off the porch before a single word could come out of his mouth
he thinks he nodded...but he couldn't be sure as he watched her J Lo ass sway down the street
the only thing he could remember was the fleeting thought
she's the one
granddad's shoulders drooped and rolled forward...the arms had that slightly crooked "i'm carrying something" look old men get it was a combination of Arthritis and old age.. and ridin' to many sunfishing mustangs when he was a young one
he could still hold his back up straight when he tried too...but it didn't stay that way long... but that mean proud old fart could still break a bronc once and a while and ride a horse 20 miles without flinching
he still smoked...rolled his own...thin cheroots...and he put loco weed in em sometimes to slide into waking dreaming of youth
after he hung up the phone he threw some sht together in his tattered green Army duffle and jumped into the rusty old truck and headed West thinkin "What the fck has my Grandson gotten himself into now"
what had the doctors said
they said it was a brain bleed..an anomalous circulatory structure...that just gave way...and the curtain came down on his miserable miserable life
the conductor noticed he'd dropped his sketch book...he picked it up off the floor and laid it on the table before him...when the supper bell chimed the passenger didn't wake up...but the conductor thought little about it...as he leaned in to tell him to head for the diner he noticed a smell
the passenger had wet his pants and couldn't be roused
even after they evacuated it there wasn't much hope..some saw that as a curse...they should have considered it a blessing
the blips they saw on the encephalogram might be brain activity...maybe dreaming...
but dreaming of what???
in the muddled darkness again she came
"oh but she couldn't be trusted...even when his brain was swimming in the bloody pool she hounded him"
she brought her own heat with her
and her demon eyes
her eyes had been vividly blue green that day that the Autumn leaves fell around her as she swayed away from his porch
forever after whenever he thought of Autumn he began to hum "Autumn Leaves" and old obcure tune his momma sang
he looked so innocent in the hospital bed..like a babe sleeping.. may that always be...a sleeping monster ...unable to reek havoc on the world of women anymore
he looked so innocent lying there on his cousins daybed fondling her Min Pin
his bright blue eyes and ultra pale skin was alway engaging in Canada but in Sunny California they looked completely out of place
the dog didn't care but his cousin's daughter was an estetition and she was drooling to get out her hot wax and go to work on those eyebrows
this was his usual visit
was it a birthday?
it wasn't a usual Holiday
it was the Canadian holidays that allowed him to fly down and get that several times a year sunburn that inevitably blistered and then peeled
you know the kind that made Canadians stand just a little straighter around their cohorts up North
because it signified some extra spending money he'd scraped together and an adventurous spirit on his part
if they only knew
he loved the roller coaster
the big one down at the bay... the oldest wooden roller coaster left in the US of A... that's why he was headed down there... and that's why he was getting a hard on just thinkin' 'bout it...
yeah that's why
who was he kiddin'???
blonde is the magic
he thought
blonde is the scheme
blonde is the eloquence
that dwelled in his dreams
his
dark
cold
ravenous
BITTERLY BLONDE
dream
Crosby Still Nash and Young was scratchily playing in the background
the soft female music lured Kerry and he... both loved the old word smiths of the 70's
she beckoned her cousin to drift out to the patio for a New Yorker
a smart relevant up to date drink made to be gulped rather then sipped... which they did and waited for the giggles to start... it wasn't long before they were flailing in the wooden deck chairs... his cousin actually fell out of hers... grabbing the chair as she tumbled onto the grass.... he looked toward the curb thru their laughter .... then got up and headed for her Mustang convertible...
it's time.. he thought.. to go hunting...
Kerry saw him set his chin in a resolute sort of way and a shiver ran down her spine...in her mind
she saw the sign posted on the beach
BEWARE OF THE SHARKS
he knew his cousin had entered the Ms Del Mar Cougar contest again this year but he never thought of her as a Cougar..... but she was like one of those sumptuous women he sought 45 thru 55 crowd... she was slim and still so good lookin'' her looks made most men feel like they'd been socked in the gut with a below the belt punch..... definitely there was a reaction below the belt
she had come in second a year ago
he thought her bright red hair made it a cinch for her to win but the non-freckle loving judges had given her the thumbs down 2nd place to a nearly 60 year old silver fox... wearing a fabulously simple gray straw hat and dove gray gloves to her elbows
such is the sensuous life of the awe inspiring woman of a certain age
he hurried over to Delmar for the 7th race licking his lips in anticipation
not of the ponies but of the sensuous seniors all decked out for opening day
inside he never was without the PAIN...PAIN...PAIN... pain...pain...pain... never ending...intolerable...vehement...excruciating PAIN
they writhe they say...when they're close to death...and see at last there's no way out...life has given them all it's chosen too ...there's no higher power to call on...no going back over it if you want to hold your head up and slip the bonds of earth with any amount of grace...... that snake is invisible and internal
two stiff drinks and an abundant selection of woman who know their way around a man and that peacefulness of forgetfulness comes calling and let's you wake up the snarled fluffy tortured neurons
intrigues the synapse to the rhythm of the dance ...allows them to welcome the different drummer....have that feeling like the little duck...eager to approach and reconcile itself to that brand new day QUACK QUACK DUCKIES.....may they be that way for me today!!!
to dissipate his memory of his darlin of old
she had been his little plum dumplin'...his all arms and legs eternal flame...the blonde to end all blondes...his heavenly havoc...his sexual domain...the woman who made his soul ticklish....the diminutive diva of days gone by never to come again....the Harri Kari knife he'd fallen on....the choking in his throat whenever happiness deduced he needed an infusion
the one he fell toward and never reached...but was blest in the falling to lift his eyes and there she was peeping out at him from GOD's garden...his adorable little "cabbage head"
he didn't have enough bandages...not even a tourniquet would stem the flow of blood quickly enough to save him..he knew he deserved to die...but he couldn't...that would be too easy...way to easy so he grew horns and moles and long deviant hairs all over his now gnarled body but stilled walked upright as beautiful as he ever was on the outside after she'd left him
and no one noticed he was becoming a monster...no one at all
he didn't often look for her anymore...those kinda women didn't exist except in the days of yore when men were men
and women were women
and men were glad of it
youth and stupidity drove her away...and the perceived rightness of his male stubbornness
men and rightness...how important it was then...to be right when simply her arms around him made the sun come up... her lying there like "a warm Texas breakfast".. smelling so much like sleep and womanliness... his little little little woman/little girl
Kerry was discontent with her long morning drive to work but the new condo wouldn't be a rental and it sat smack dab on the sand down near the ocean...Bill would love it..he like Kerry's BFF Lynner was born and raised down here in Imperial Beach
just a stones throw from Mexico... in the day when fences weren't up to act a a divider of boundaries between neighbors hands clasped in friendship across the border..... Bill met Kerry when she was a fired haired teen...and he was a hotshot naval pilot still living on his laurels of being a fighter pilot in Viet Nam...he was throughly unhappily married...had a son...and only gave Kerry a passing glance..even tho the curvaceous redhead had a certain effect on him walking down the sand in a bright white skirt that furled out to catch the wind and red blouse that pulled across her ample breasts and made them seem like two puppies squirming to get free
she was still moving when her cousin showed up and Booker hadn't been any help to the two of them at first.... but eventually he offered to dig right in and help them unpack the new place.... most afternoon he'd do the work and let the two of them kick back in the hammock and just drink Long Island Ice Teas and relax... but at nite in IB when it was very late and there was no moon he couldn't resist getting nakid and heading into the surf to dip beneath the water... body surf in on the waves...and watch the shoreline...for what...what was he watching for what
sometimes he seemed like a happy animal frolicing in the surf...and she'd laugh with Bill about it
and Bill never thought anything about Bookers behavior...afterall... he was a Canadian
but Kerry knew something deeper was going on with Booker
something you couldn't blame on Canada
...his vacation was nearly over...and altho she in many way always enjoyed his visits in other ways she couldn't say she was unhappy to see him leave
she didn't want to get to know his dark side
David had to pull over to the side of the road...... (his brain felt like that fried egg searing in the pan that was in the 80's commercial about drug use... the needle went into the bottle...the fluid went into the tube...his brain erupted into flames..and down down down he went into that "i'm not sure how long it'll be before i see the light of day again" drain)
then she appeared
she hovered...she swooned into his body and encapsulated the heat....trying to save him from the pain but the dark essence pushed her away cowled and narcissistic she instead reach out to torment and triplicated the burn she floated in it...as if she couldn't warm the ice water in her veins and the Arctic chill in her bones
she turned and undulated like meat on a spit begging for the sickening roast he saw her vulgar lecherous smile before he slipped again into semi-consciousness curving and sliding up at the corners of her mouth.... and her crimson eyes....ever laser fine targeted again on his soul slowly his eyelids closed as he drifted away....and halted his long but expectantly beautiful along the Pacific's coastline
these spells were coming more and more often
it was time to go home
so much of the trip was ocean viewing and he never got tired of seeing it
waves of water to eventually turn to oceans of wheat barley and rape dancing in the winds or being harvested in Canada's heartland. .. mountains getting ready for snow...the jagged saw tooths of the Canadian Rockies far surpassed any view of the Rockies below the 49th...sea terns rolling and gliding thru an overcast sky
soon he'd be taking that Transcontinental Train thru Canada from the left coast to the right coast
and the dreams of a prairie boy eager to both love and hate the small towns of the plains....... so much of the trip was ocean viewing and he never got tired of seeing it oceans of water to eventually turn to oceans of wheat barley and rape dancing in the winds or being harvested in Canada's heartland.... mountains getting ready for snow...the jagged saw tooths of the Canadian Rockies far surpassed any view of the Rockies below the 49th...sea terns rolling and gliding thru an overcast sky
he had learned to speak French..badly at first...then like a Quebec native when he jumped on the train in Ottawa he had a slight headache so he didn't fight the drooping eyelids he spent most of his vacation fighting the feeling
he leaned his head against the steering wheel of his cousin Kerry car as he drifted away he'd seen her..his muse...enveloped in deathlike irony with ravens flying out of her screaming mouth was she readying herself to send him her vicious final attack?? but he had no time as he drifted to think about it
how many beautiful women want him dead...more then you could count on your fingers and toes combined.... he'd spent his whole life falling in and out of love.... he was a scoundrel of that even he was sure
maybe he was a sociopath...or maybe he was just hard hearted..his sexual energy drove him to depths and places few could return from
and many didn't want to
bad boys...sweaty cannibalistic bad boys...probably every woman and man at sometime in their lives have succombed to one and lived to both enjoy it and regret it
he was a charmer...a definite sociopathic trait
with women he delicately tread that careful path of intimacy to reassure and influence them...until they thought that he and they were like two peas in a pod
just all warm and cozy as he nuzzled them gently under their arms....let his lips dance on the pulse of their necks...adding fuel to the fire as their pulses quickened and goosebumps flooded over their bodies
but before it was over it was always the same..he would disappear like a will o the wisp without an after thought
and that was the best ending to a scenario with David
it could be worse... with sharp cutting things... it could be their unhappy ending
Kerry was looking at the the sketch her cousin had drawn of her daughter when the phone rang
Kerry couldn't just phone Lynner to tell her the bad news after David left
the sad upheavals of her life had to be held in loving arms
and stroked away with loving hands that communicated the unconditional love she
had for her best friend from high school
Booker hadn't ever closed in on Lynner and her appreciation of him was profound
he could be the gentle protector and with Lynner he always was
she found her friend down by the wetland...
staring out over the bird estuary staring into the moving grasses and watching the bird dip for small sealife and caught fish when the tides rushed out
Lynner had fought the good fight
relinguished herself to the wrong kind of men
and withstood their deadly blows
she was scarred and fragile but one would never know it from the way she carried herself
she had been born to be the bubbles in Champange
and she still bubbled on the surface
and her eyes twinkled beneath the bruises of lovers young who stopped by to relish her remarkable body
and sup from the rare delights of her nubile soul
only Kerry her dearest friend was tortured along with her at the fledgeling promises she made to herself to get it right someday
to mean more then just an enjoyable repass for a man who was just stopping over on his way to somewhere else
but why milady
my smile is so sincere
am i a fledgling horror
just beneath my kind veneer
i'm singing the changling song
it sounds so sweet
a tenor's fragant epitaph
it soothes today
but for just how long
you shouldn't try him
fry him
defy him
die him
sacrifice him
upon your sensual flames
slice and dice him
here i'll loan you the knife
the one you need to end his life
never fear
he'll bleed out
his blood so red and clear
or sew his lying lips
disregard his fitful eyes
those tears aren't real and no surprise
just the tools of his rotten game
the ones he uses to 'cause you to be shame
he was on his way and floating in the haze with the clickity clack of the rails when his mind turn to the one
she stepped up on his porch...wide tomboy smile...slouched into a patio chair and held her hand out in a way that could be interpreted as a "shake my hand" or "please fill this with something cool"...her mind was like a buzz saw...and her mouth followed the sawdust as it flew with it's own momentum into the air
her baseball cap was turned backwards and her wispy blond hair could barely find it's way out under it
"i'm your new neighbor"
"i thought i'd come over and introduce myself"
she then told him her name which he couldn't remember...shook his hand...and hop down off the porch before a single word could come out of his mouth
he thinks he nodded...but he couldn't be sure as he watched her J Lo ass sway down the street
the only thing he could remember was the fleeting thought
she's the one
granddad's shoulders drooped and rolled forward...the arms had that slightly crooked "i'm carrying something" look old men get it was a combination of Arthritis and old age.. and ridin' to many sunfishing mustangs when he was a young one
he could still hold his back up straight when he tried too...but it didn't stay that way long... but that mean proud old fart could still break a bronc once and a while and ride a horse 20 miles without flinching
he still smoked...rolled his own...thin cheroots...and he put loco weed in em sometimes to slide into waking dreaming of youth
after he hung up the phone he threw some sht together in his tattered green Army duffle and jumped into the rusty old truck and headed West thinkin "What the fck has my Grandson gotten himself into now"
what had the doctors said
they said it was a brain bleed..an anomalous circulatory structure...that just gave way...and the curtain came down on his miserable miserable life
the conductor noticed he'd dropped his sketch book...he picked it up off the floor and laid it on the table before him...when the supper bell chimed the passenger didn't wake up...but the conductor thought little about it...as he leaned in to tell him to head for the diner he noticed a smell
the passenger had wet his pants and couldn't be roused
even after they evacuated it there wasn't much hope..some saw that as a curse...they should have considered it a blessing
the blips they saw on the encephalogram might be brain activity...maybe dreaming...
but dreaming of what???
in the muddled darkness again she came
"oh but she couldn't be trusted...even when his brain was swimming in the bloody pool she hounded him"
she brought her own heat with her
and her demon eyes
her eyes had been vividly blue green that day that the Autumn leaves fell around her as she swayed away from his porch
forever after whenever he thought of Autumn he began to hum "Autumn Leaves" and old obcure tune his momma sang
he looked so innocent in the hospital bed..like a babe sleeping.. may that always be...a sleeping monster ...unable to reek havoc on the world of women anymore