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Life is but a Dream

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< Hello again littl
Monday, September 6, 2004
Creation, boredom >
Wednesday, September 8, 2004
September 2004
Tuesday, September 7, 2004
Time: 5:36:00 PM EDT
Author:  unboundpoet
Mood:  Chillin'
Music:  Dark Side of the 80's medley


The hurricane has finally made it overhead, and we have rain aplenty. Looks as if it will rain for the next 4 days, and they are expecting us to get about 8 inches or so. Seems our Fla. relatives escaped mainly unscathed but have been out of power for a while. I am grateful they didn't get the worst of it.

 I got a short story from one of my pals in Winston and I would like to share it with you all. He is always sending me bits and pieces to examine. I thought I would post it to get some reaction from others. SOME OF THIS IS A TAD EXPLICIT, so if you are easily offended TURN BACK NOW lololol. Remember that this is a complete work.

Angels are born black, then bloodied

 

 

I sit here in my apartment trying to think of what needs most to be said. There’s not much time. Cops’ll be here soon. Eluding them is not the problem. My life has been lived decidedly outside the system. I can disappear and there’ll be nothing to track me by. No credit cards. No checking accounts. No nothing.

 

But this needs saying. A first person account needs to survive for a day like this.

 

.Life had lost all meaning. Lost every bit of its shape. I just didn’t care anymore.

I had no investment in this world or way of life. Not a shred or fiber of my being cared for things like good or evil anymore. I had been whittled down honed and refined to a perfect razor’s edge. Just made for cutting and that’s all.

 

I wanted to see how good I could be at it. Picked my target and I was off.

 

It wasn’t random that I chose her. It was a test of one of my old weaknesses.

Pretty girls.

 

And she was pretty. To see her in person, you wouldn’t know this but beyond the spit and polish of the stage. All the makeup people working on her. You’d think for her to require that much up front work she’d have to be pretty flawed in the light of day.

But no, she was plenty beautiful just the way God made her.

 It started out as just a psychological puzzle. How hard would it be? What would I need?

Could I actually get away with it?

 

You know what they say about the weak link. It’s true. You look at any operation there’s one guy in there who’s heart’s only half in it. Either due to some baggage in his or her own past. Job related stress. General irritation with a higher up or maybe the actual object of their protection. Doesn’t matter, effect is the same. And I’m in.

 

You might think that this being a test of my royal badness would equate “too easy” with “not good”. Nah. It’s just not the case. And I’ll tell you why. The test isn’t all the hurdles in between me and her. That’s just noise. The test is standing there over her and just ending her. I’m kinda old school in my deference to women. Always had this protective instinct for even the worst of them.

 

I guess it was like 3 hours ago I arrived and was let in the back way. It felt like a Saturday. The way the neighborhood was so quiet. Everything just still and serene. Here I was about to disturb it all…for just a second.

 

Other people, I guess if they were going to do this they’d want to do her first. Do her, that is in the sexual sense. I wouldn’t have minded it. But I came her with a purpose beyond shooting a load in the pop star’s enchanted twat.

 

I took the tour of the house. It was so quiet I wondered if someone had beaten me to it.

 

I walked across the living room floor eyeing a doorway that gave me the distinct vibe of bedroom. Clothes strewn on the floor. The side of a dresser that as I approached I could make out a makeup mirror and matching paraphernalia lying on top. I stepped to the door and looked inside. The room was done all in white. And her covers lay crumpled up at the food of the bed. She was hugging the sheet and in turn it was sorta hugging her back. It mighta been fucking her too. But if so, her bliss was a decidedly quiet one. I walked up so I was standing right behind her. Her perfect little ass all exposed. The she looked up at me.

 

“hi” she said like I had just come back from the store. I nodded in reply.

 

“I’m just going to lay here until you’re ready.” She wiped her eyes “I won’t fight. I’ll do whatever you say.” She then rolled over away from her lover’s embrace. The sheet fell off and exposed her perfect little 22year old body. She wasn’t even conscious of it I don’t think.

 

“Just make sure it’s done before you go” I adjusted to this turn of events much quicker than I would’ve thought. I wanted to be a writer once upon a time. Always with one foot in the world, the other watching from outside. Maybe that explains it.

 

I nodded in agreement to her terms. But I sat down for a moment and just looked at her.

Not softening like I thought I would. Like maybe part of me hoped I would. I just watched. Hoping maybe to learn something. She rolled back over facing away from me.

 

“My whole life was about becoming, you know? It was beauty pageants leading to commercials. Commercials leading to TV. TV leading to this. My whole life, there’s always been something more just over the horizon. Some new me out there just waiting to be. Life was this…adventure. I couldn’t wait to see what would happen next.” She looked back a little over her shoulder. But not far enough to see me.

 

“But the other day it hit me, this is who I am. No more new me’s. Just this forever.”

 

I remembered all the things I would have said. All the Pollyanna crap about endless possibilities and all that. But I just sat quiet.

 

“My whole world is about me being what they want me to be. They won’t let me be anything else.” She was sitting now with her legs draped off to the side. Holding her face in her hands. She was quietly crying. But just a little and just for a moment.

 

She got up and walked over to me and stood there holding the sheet against her like a shield. I beckoned her to sit on my lap and she did. Wrapping her arms around me like I was her Dad come to save her. And I brushed her hair away from her face like I was just exactly that. Her skin and the way she smelled…I was moved.  She buried her face in my chest and said

 

“Now, please.”

It made a small pop and the smoke rose visibly from my closed hand. Tiny little gun. Tiny little hole. We sat there like the umpteenth homage to the Pieta, Hollywood style.

All topical and shit. The star and her stalker. Brittany and George.

~ Don M.

 



Written by unboundpoet Blog about this entry
This entry has 2 comments: (Add your own)
  • #2 Comment from indigosunmoon 
    9/8/04 2:19 AM Permalink
    It's rained here all day long.  I just looked outside,
    and it seems to have finally stopped.  What a
    yucky soggy day it's been.
    Neat story!
    Lovish!
    Connie
  • #1 Comment from angeleyez1970 
    9/7/04 6:21 PM Permalink
    Hi there! I'm glad everyone made is safely through these awful hurricanes!  Let's just hope the rains won't be THAT bad!  
    I read the short story, it was quite interesting ;) i love a mystery or thriller! I want more, lol!
    Glad to see your back! I've missed ya!
    Hugs to you my friend,
    ~Angel
    http://journals.aol.com/angeleyez1970/TheSimplePleasuresOfLife/