Shadows

Shadow boys and Shadow girls
making love in drunken circles
Wishing wells of barren murals
Straight lines turned golden twirles
Sad old girls and Sad old Boys
taking pills to fill the void
Artificially made joy
Canvases of broken toys
Free spirits long destroyed
The gutters of a spoiled earth
spilling poisoned water and dirt

Urine Dump

Fire grabbing at the air unscorched
A colony of ants slowly tearing flesh
The ride rolling in on the beach at sunrise
Rain heavily sliding down a windshield,
like a mudslide on an ice skating rink
The rotting teeth of a bulimic beauty
Track marks in the shape of a cross,
on arms attached to hands that pray to god,
for another hit of the holy communion
Towering gardens of sunflowers,
trying to compete with concrete giants,
but never coming close
Lights of a traffic jam at night
The poetry of a kid uncomfortable in his own skin

Like Father, Like None

Give up your dreams
You've spent long enough
time doing what you love
Now throw in the towel
and start growing up
We all can't do what we want
That's why I gave in
Look at me now
Loving Father teaching his kid
how to die inside
Crushing in dreams
like the world crushed mine
A shinning example
of Gods white light
But God never graced
this boy with light
Never showed me the way
to my path at night
And this Father of mine
Who's views do misguide
A boy who's sure he knows what right
Because what's a life
spent living through
another's eyes?

supermarket diary.

Old Herman Stevenson lives inside of a shoe. More or less. He comes into the store sometimes, pretty often actually, and he keeps all of his belongings in his right shoe, one of a pair of old PF Flyers that are in surprisingly good condition for belonging to a bum. His belongings consist of a food stamp card with a magnetic strip that doesn’t work, and usually, two dollars and eighty-seven cents. Because food stamps don’t cover the cost of alcohol, he uses the two dollars and eighty-seven cents to pay for his cheap beer, which costs exactly that. His food items usually consist of ramen noodles, or crackers, or Lays potato chips, or junk food of that sort, but it’s impossible to tell for sure what it’s going to be, really. Today, it’s M&Ms. And beer. A four-pack of Steel Reserve. I scan the items and give him the total, price of alcohol included.
“Three dollars and ninety-four cents, Mr. Stevenson!” I say with a smile.
He just sort of grunts like he always does and takes off his shoe, and hands me his food stamp card first, so I enter the numbers and he enters his PIN and then he pays the remaining two dollars and eighty-seven cents. Then I begin bagging up his stuff because I’m absent a bagger at the moment, and Herman just slips his card back into his shoe and slips his shoe back onto his feet. I can smell that foot and it smells awful. I’m sure the old woman behind him in line can smell it too, because she’s making a face like she smells something awful. I hand Herman his bag and he grunts again but I think he tries to smile, I mean he at least shows a tooth, and walks off. The old lady who made a face at his feet smelling is buying kale. I really love Kale but it makes me shit. I wonder if she has the same problem. I scan her stuff up.
It’s just another day at work, really, or at least it seems to be. A visit from old Herman usually certifies a normal work day; it’d be weird if he didn’t show. I think as long as I’ve been working at Publinks supermarkets, he’s come in every day. I think I enjoy it. He’s interesting. Anyways. It’s about two o’clock in the afternoon by my watch and Herman’s come in, and I’ve just been scanning up everyone’s groceries, no real complaints from anyone yet, and I’m throwing out all of these phrases I’m told I have to say – “Did you find everything you were looking for?” or “Is plastic all right?” (because God forbid we remind folk that they have the option of using paper), forcing a smile and really just wanting to go home. We’re at a slow spot right now; I ain’t had a customer come through my line in almost four minutes, and I’m just standing in front of my register with my hands in my pockets, looking bored. But here comes Jeb, Jeb the new guy, Jeb the bagger, Jeb the wise guy, Jeb the creep. Jeb’s got a big mole on his left cheek, makes him real hard to look at. But he comes up to me with a smile and puts out his hand so I can shake it or high-five it, in what really comes out as a culmination of both.
“Just get here?” I say. I’m a nice guy.
“Yeah bro, we been busy?”
I hate the way he talks.
“Until now.”
He just looks around for a minute.
“Any babes come in today man? Any babes in here now?”
I raise an eyebrow at him. He always wants to know this.
“Jeb, what do you think this is, A&P?”
He looks at me with a blank expression on his face.
“What?”
“Don’t worry about it; you wouldn’t get it.”
Doesn’t anyone read Updike? Goddamn.
Jeb walks away.
Since we’re slow I decide to check my phone for any text messages. I’ve gotta keep it on the “DL” though, since I could get in big trouble for so much as having it on me. I hold it at my right side just over my pocket and discreetly look down at the screen. I’ve got one; it’s from my girl.
Can you bring me tampon. <3 you.
I don’t reply. I hate that shit. What is this symbolic nonsense? Has the word ‘love’ been officially replaced? Or is it just a cop out so the verb doesn’t have to be used at all? I don’t know. Whatever. I love you. I don’t “<3” you too, though.
Here comes a customer. She’s a fat white woman who I don’t think I’ve ever seen before. She’s got a cart full of junk.
“Hello! How are you doing today?”
She just looks at me and begins loading her stuff up on the conveyer belt and I begin scanning. Jeb comes running over.
“Is plastic all right?” Now that he’s here doing his job I’ve got one less question to ask. Awesome.
“PAPER!” she yells. “AND DOUBLE EM!”
Jeb does as he’s told. He doesn’t ask questions. I watch the items as I scan them. Mostly junk shit; white people food. Ground beef, lots of it, though. She must be having a cook-out.
“Having a cook-out?” I ask.
“MIND YOUR GODDAMN BUSINESS!”
“Okay.”
I get quiet and finish up her order. One-hundred and forty-two dollars even. Very nice.
“Have a nice day!” I hand her her receipt.
Jeb loads her bags in her cart and attempts to begin to walk her out. He doesn’t get far, though.
“DON’T YA’LL KNOW HOW TO MIND YER BUSINESS?”
“Have a nice day ma’am.”
She walks off.
The next couple hours are pretty steady. Shoppers come in quick succession and then stop for a couple minutes, then come again. That’s how it usually happens. There’s three other cashiers working – Johnny, Wally, and Suzanne. They’re all good folk but I’m not really friends with any of ‘em. I’m friends with a few of my co-workers but the people in charge don’t like to schedule us together because they think we distract each other. I guess, maybe, they might be right. While I’m ringing up this one lady, she tells me I have pretty eyes, and I say thanks.
“You remind me of my ex-husband.”
I’m not sure what to say to that so I just smile.
“You have a nice smile, too.”
“Thanks.”
I send her on her way.
Five o’clock rolls around and it’s time for us to get busy. Oh, and we get busy. It’s Monday, our busiest day of the week, and Monday from five till about six-thirty is prime time for bustling grocery shoppers. But at least I get to go home in an hour. My first rush hour customer is this gay gentleman who comes in often. His name is Daniel. He’s an English professor for the university. He’s read my stuff before and he’s liked some of it, given some criticisms, but always been supportive. I like him. He’s got a full basket of things and loads them up onto the conveyer belt.
“David, good to see you. How are you?”
This is why I like him. He starts the conversation; he asks the questions so I don’t have to be a robot with programmed phrases. It feels good. It feels human. Being at work and feeling human go well together, but they don’t usually come together. It’s a welcome state of bliss.
“Very good. Ready to go home, yourself?”
He’s doing well. He’s got something to tell me.
“Look, I met this guy and I talked to him about you – your writing. He said he’s interested.”
“Well that’s good, I guess.” I scan the last item, a pack of condoms, and tell him his total.
“Forty-two dollars and ninety cents.”
“But there’s more to it. He’s kind of important in the publishing world. I can’t give you all the details now but…” He swipes his credit card.
I get what he’s saying. His receipt comes out and I grab a pen from my drawer and write down my phone number on it and hand it to him.
“Call me after six. We’ll talk.”
He winks at me and grabs his bags.
“Will do.”
I really do like him.
Over at the customer service desk there’s a big line. While I scan up my next customer’s stuff, I keep an eye over there, curious as to what’s going on. I can kind of see this woman. She appears to be returning stuff, a lot of stuff. About a minute later I see the guy helping her out, his name is John, walk over to the page-phone. He picks it up and his voice appears over the store radio.
“I’ll need a manager to customer service please, a manager to customer service.”
The old bag’s probably a scammer, I think to myself, and I begin checking out my next customer. The easiest way to scam Publinks supermarkets, let me tell you, is to buy a bunch of stuff on sale – say, buy one, get one free, and return it when the sale is over for a full refund of the two. A total flaw in the company’s “good sales/good prices” policies, but easily accessible and easy to make a profit with. Usually a scammer will buy a cartload of buy one, get one items and make double their money. It makes me sick, it really does. I keep working. I don’t wanna watch the scammer bitch anymore.
“Have a good night!” I send off my customer, this fellow is a business suit.
Now here through the front doors walks old Herman Stevenson, stumbling over his own feet. He’s obviously drunk. It’s only five-something, Herman! Oh, but you’re homeless. He never comes in twice in one day; it must be a special occasion. I’m void of a customer, strangely, at the moment, and Herman and I make eye contact. He raises a hand and shouts.
“HEY!” A few people turn and stare at him.
I raise my hand and wave. Herman stumbles off towards the beer and wine isle.
Next thing I know, I hear my name.
“David!”
What?
I look up and to my right, and there’s this black girl I used to hang with. Her name was Mariah. She had a really bad-smelling vagina. She’s loading her stuff onto the conveyer belt. I hadn’t seen her come in.
“Oh, hey!”
She smiles at me, with a certain flirtatiousness and appeal. She looks good, I mean she always did, but she does now, too. I don’t even ask her if she found everything she was looking for; I just slide down her groceries to Jeb. I notice he’s got his eyes on her and I giggle a little bit on the inside.
“Long time no see,” Mariah says.
“You don’t buy groceries enough, that’s all.”
“I thought you’d been ignoring me.”
“I am.”
I have been.
“Oh, don’t be silly. I’ve missed you.”
I finished scanning her stuff. Last item – tampons.
“Aw. Twenty-one dollars and seventy cents.”
She slides her card and continues talking to me.
“You got a girlfriend or something now?”
I nod. She ignores me.
“Listen, I wanna take you out. You have my number. Let me know when you’re free.”
“Okay.”
She takes her receipt and walks away. She’s wearing short shorts and I’m watching her legs. She has nice legs. But she really did have a bad-smelling – CRASH! The sound of breaking glass and things falling. Everyone turns and looks towards the direction of the sound, which is then followed by a loud
“OH MY GOD!!!”
It’s a painful, horrified scream, coming from the other side of the store, towards the beer and wine isle, or, possibly, the beer and wine isle itself. Then it hits me. Herman! There is a young man just beginning to load up his groceries, apparently unaffected by the noise. I look at him and say
“Sir, I’m sorry, I’ll be back in one minute.”
He gives me a sort of pissed off look and puts his groceries back in his cart. He’s making a wise decision. I probably won’t be back anytime soon. I leave my register and run towards the beer and wine isle. There’s already a small group of people at the end of the isle, looking down it, some of them looking horrified and some just looking curious. I am both curious and horrified, and I’m not even there yet. I get there and push past the people.
“Excuse me, coming through.”
I gasp at what I see. One half of the beer and wine isle, the wine half, has fallen completely to the floor, in a mess of broken glass and gallons and gallons of spilled reds and whites. And amidst the mess is Herman, bloodied and passed out or dead, laying on the floor with a piece of broken wine bottle sticking out of his throat. I feel myself gag. How the hell does this happen, I wonder? And to old Herman, who lives inside of his shoe? My manager, Joe, comes running down the other end of the isle, screaming.
“Someone call an ambulance! And David, page clean-up, Isle six!”
“Yes…yes sir…”
I stumble away from the isle, towards the front of the store. I don’t think I’m going to page anyone. I don’t think I’ll even call an ambulance. I pass Jeb on the way to the front. I grab him by the shoulder.
“Jeb, call an ambulance and…just call an ambulance.”
“Okay.”
I look at my watch. It’s six o’clock. Finally. I run over to the customer service desk where the time clock is, and punch out. I don’t say a word to anyone I pass as I leave through the front doors. I try not to think about poor old Herman Stevenson who lived inside of a shoe. I feel dizzy. I feel faint. I want to go home. I wonder if Daniel will call me soon. I hope he will. I need someone to talk to. I forgot tampons.

Yarn Dreams

The world is made of string.
We walk down string streets.
We swim where string creeps up onto string beach.
We meet underneath string skies
and kiss beneath string lights.
Our Father's, our Mother's
are string just like the others.
Some live in string homes.
Some live in string gutters.
Some live to weave an infinite world of string livers.
But I, I am a pair of scissors.

The Most Comfortable of Silences

The most comfortable of silences
with the most deadly of persons
Hurricanes and snakes have nothing
on this one
For Years I've tried to wrap my
arms around the body of a stubborn lady
but only manage to strangle my organs
and fill notebooks with what if's and maybes
as My composure slowly worsens

never gonna finish...

so, a while ago, like anyone else, or everyone else rather, i took to trying to write a book. needless to say, it never happened. i am too young and distracted and unfocused yet to produce something with such length and, well, focus. anyways, i got to thinking about it tonight and i figured that i might as well not let all the pages i did write go to waste, so i'm posting what i did do on here. it's sloppy, unfocused, and, i'd like to think, fun. it's not particularly autobiographical, but there are a few things i'd like to think were influenced by my own life. i guess each chapter could be read as its own little connecting short story. well, enjoy.

----

CHAPTER 1

I woke up around 10:30 am. It was a Saturday. I got out of bed and slipped on some pants and went to the kitchen and started some coffee. While the coffee was brewing I went to the bathroom and pissed and brushed my teeth. It hurt to piss. I think I had a UTI. When I was done I went back to the kitchen and poured myself some coffee, added some sugar, and took it outside onto the porch. The weather was nice. Gray clouds hung low in the sky and there was a light drizzle of rain. It was cold enough out for a sweater, but I wasn’t wearing a shirt. I checked my mailbox. A credit card bill. The electric bill. The phone bill. An envelope from my uncle, Bill. I opened the envelope. Inside was a card with a picture of two cats on it that read “HAPPY BIRTHDAY” on the front. I opened it up.
‘Dear David, happy birthday. Here’s 20 dollars. Love, Uncle Bill.’ Sure enough, he’d enclosed twenty dollars. Not a bad price for being a month late.

I went back inside and got dressed. It was my day off from work. I didn’t have any plans so I called this girl I’d been seeing off and on for the past year and half or so. Her name was Beth. She was a tall, very thin girl with blue eyes and short blond hair. She looked good but she was all sorts of evil. She’d cheated on me several times with several different guys and for whatever reason I kept giving her more and more chances. I’d never cheated on her. I wouldn’t. I was pretty sure I was in love with her, and even when she’d cheat on me she’d say she was in love with me, too. I didn’t believe her, but I think the fact that she said it was enough to keep me sticking around. We’d often get in fights or arguments or she’d meet some new guy and leave me for him, and then we wouldn’t talk for a while, and in that while I’d meet someone new and she’d just keep fucking whoever, but when that person stopped working for her she’d just call me up and apologize and we’d be okay for a little while longer, until she found out I’d been seeing someone while we weren’t talking, and then it would all start again. It was stupid, really. I was stupid. I don’t know why I did that. Anyways, I called Beth and she picked up after a few rings. She picked up, sounding tired and groggy.

“He…Hello?”

“Hey baby, it’s David. What ya up to?”

She paused for a second.

“David…you woke me up…don’t you know I like to sleep in on Saturdays?”

“Yeah, I know, but, I’m bored and it’s my day off so I thought I’d see how you were doing. Wanna do something?”

“David…let me go back to sleep…”

“All right, I’m coming over.”

She hung up.

I got in my car and drove to Beth’s house. She lived on the other side of town, about a fifteen minute drive. Traffic wasn’t too bad so I got there in a little less. I pulled into her driveway and saw that her roommates weren’t home. Her front door wasn’t locked as usual so I let myself in. The house was cold and all the lights were off. I went to her kitchen and grabbed myself a coke from her fridge and took a sip, left the can on the counter, and went to Beth’s room. The door was slightly cracked open and I stepped in. Beth was asleep in her bed wearing just her panties and a t-shirt, and her blankets were tossed on the floor. She did that in her sleep sometimes, as I’d found out from staying with her on many nights. I undressed and got into bed with her. I kissed her on the back of the neck. She groaned.

“You’re here…”

“No I’m not. This is all a dream.”

I kept kissing her neck, the top of her back, her ears. She reached up and put her hand on my face.

“A bad dream…”

“I can make it a good one, I swear.”

“Mmmm…”

I turned her over on her back and slid off her panties, and then I went down and went to work. She moaned and grabbed my hair and crushed my head with her thighs and writhed around and I felt like I was doing something right and that made me feel good. As I worked, flicking out my tongue and moving it around, back and forth, I thought of all of the other guys’ dicks that had been in there since the first time I’d entered myself, and that didn’t make me feel so good. I tried not to think about it. It was something I was used to. She was about to come and then I stopped, I crawled up to her, kissed her on the mouth, put it in, and then I finished my job like that. It was cheap of me, but it worked, and it worked well, which was good, because as she was done so soon, so was I. I pulled out and finished on her sheets and then rolled onto my back and pulled her close to me.

“Sorry,” I said.

“It’s okay. I’m hungry. Did I have morning breath when you kissed me?”

“It wasn’t too bad. Let’s go eat.”

“Okay.”

She got up and went to the bathroom, only wearing her t-shirt. I put my clothes back on and sat down on her bed. The lights were still off but I could see things around her room – it had been a while since I’d been there. On her desk there was a framed picture of us, which surprised me, some notebooks and stationery like that. On her floor were random articles of clothing, one of which looked like a pair of boxer shorts. They weren’t mine. I ignored them. Beth walked back into the room and flicked on the light. She was brushing her teeth. She talked with a mouthful of foam.

“Wheredoyouwannaeat?”

“I don’t care. Get ready then we’ll decide.”

She rolled her eyes and walked back to the bathroom. She came back naked. She looked good. I hated that she looked so good. I hated it because I knew that I wasn’t the only one who’d seen that naked body and thought that. I hated it because that same naked body had rolled around with some other guy’s naked body since the first time it had rolled around with mine. For a second, I thought and wondered about why I was there at that moment, but when she bent over to grab a new pair of underwear from her dresser I forgot about it. She got dressed, in a flower-patterned dress and a pair of brown boots, and she put on some make-up that made her face glow. She walked over to me and kissed my forehead and I grabbed her waist.

“Let’s go.”

We ate at this diner called Ralph’s close to my house. It was run by this British couple and had been around as long as I’d lived in Orlando. They’d run it as long as I could remember, too. Beth had a glass of water and a BLT. She said she was watching her figure. I had a cup of coffee and an order of French fries. After lunch I took her home because she had to go to work soon, and I told her that I’d see her later. I really had no idea if I would. That was how we were, that was how erratic our being together was. It could be sex, the best sex or the worst, one moment and just a couple hours later we’d be over again.

After I dropped her off I went back home. It was only about 3, and the weather had cleared up. I went straight to my room without locking the door to my house and I stripped down to my underwear and sprawled out on my bed. The fan spun above me,WHOOSH WHOOSH WHOOSH! It sounded loud to me, louder than usual. After watching it for awhile I must have fallen asleep, because next thing I knew, I was waking up to a knock on my door.

“Come in!” I shouted. There was no response. I waited. I didn’t move. Another knock. “Come in!!!” I heard the door open and footsteps coming towards my room. The door to my room was across from the foot of my bed and I looked forward to see my friend Zach staring back at me. He’s a tall fellow, taller than me, and he looked like he’d either just woken up or smoked a lot of pot. I didn’t get up.

“What’s up man?”

“You look nice.”

“Thanks.”

“I was just in the neighborhood so I thought I’d drop by.”

“People still do that?”

“I do.”

“Hm. Well it’s my day off and I’m lying in bed. Feels good, man, feels real good.”

“You wanna go do something?”

“Not really.”

“Oh, well, okay…can I make some coffee?”

“Help yourself.”

“Okay.”

Zach turned around and walked out of my room and I heard him walk into the kitchen. He dropped a dish and I heard it break. I didn’t really care. I sat up in bed and stretched, then got up and put my clothes back on. I walked to the bathroom and splashed some water on my face. I looked in the mirror. My reflection stared back at me like it always does. I stared back at it. The face in the mirror was tired-looking, but young at the same time. It was the face of someone who existed off of cups of coffee and a low-paying job. I didn’t like it. I wanted to punch it, but I didn’t. In the kitchen Zach was pouring his coffee into my favorite mug.

“That’s my favorite mug, man.”

He looked up at me, surprised.

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Whatever. Grab another and pour me a cup. Or just give me that cup you’re pouring and pour yourself another.” And that’s what he did. We sat down in my living room at the coffee table (of course). On the table was a newspaper article I had saved. The headline read ‘MAN KILLS TWO YEAR OLD SON, EATS WIFE.” It was about a man who’d killed his two-year old son and then eaten his wife. Apparently he’d lost his mind after losing his job due to the economy. He started to research all sorts of weird occult tribal stuff as some sort of distraction, and ended up getting in way too deep, eventually carrying out some sort of ritual in his basement that required for their deaths in such a manner. Apparently his wife was still alive when he ate her, and he didn’t even use a fork or knife, just his teeth. I don’t know why I felt compelled to save the article, just like I don’t know why anyone would feel compelled to kill or eat anyone else.

Zach drank some of his coffee and looked me in the eyes.

“So. How’s Beth?”

I raised an eyebrow at him. No one asked me that anymore.

“Slutty, slutty, that fucking whore. Goddamn I love her.”

“You guys talking?”

“Yeah.”

“That sucks.”

“Yeah…”

Zach understood. He knew that I loved Beth very much even though I hated her for what she did to me. He just hated her, but he understood, at least. If anyone else had asked, I probably would have said we hadn’t talked in months. I didn’t tell him we’d fucked, though. We talked for a while about different things. He had a girlfriend that lived across the state and I asked him how they were doing, and he said it was hard but it was going well. He told me a story about how on his last drive to see her, his car had broken down in some bumfuck town just 20 miles away from her town, and right when she was about to arrive to pick him up he’d noticed some guy beating one off in the woods off to the side of the road. It didn’t seem like a true story and I didn’t believe him but it made me laugh. He asked me how my writing was going, and I said it was going kind of slowly. I was averaging ten to twenty poems a week, but I hadn’t written a short story or anything like that in months. I was, however, planning on beginning a novel soon, as soon as I had the patience and the ideas. I’d been planning on it for years, so it was going to be great, or at least decent. After we finished our coffee, Zach said that he had to go visit his lady. I walked him to the door and gave him a big hug.

“Thanks for stopping by, man.”

“No problem. Take it easy.”

He began to walk out the door but then stopped as if he’d forgotten something and turned around.

“Oh, wait. Listen…if you ever do write that book, I’ve got a buddy who can help you get published. Just let me know.”

“Thanks Zach…”

“No problem. See you later.”

“Bye…”

I closed the door behind him and went back to my room and sat down at my desk. On a piece of yellow paper I wrote down a quick poem. Still not ready for that novel. My phone rang so I picked it up. It was Beth.

“David, we’re through. I’ve been seeing someone and I think I really like him. I didn’t know how to tell you this morning. I’m sorry.”

“Beth, are you calling from work?”

“I’m on break.”

“Well, okay. I’ll talk to you later then.”

“No, you won’t.”

“I will…”

I hung up. I felt a little sad but not really. I was used to that sort of thing. When I first found out she’d cheated on me the first time, I’d gotten so upset that I didn’t leave my house for days. I didn’t pick up my phone, I didn’t talk to anybody. But after the second time, the third, the fourth, it became routine and it became easier for me, even though we weren’t really together now, we just fucked. She was trying to be faithful to someone else, and I understood that. She’d already failed at that, though.

So I grabbed my keys and went for a drive.

CHAPTER 2

That was the night I met Jess.

After leaving my house I took a drive to the beach just for something to do. It was about an hour from my house and I had a full tank of gas. I got there around 7:30. I parked on the street in this busy little strip of shops and restaurants and when I got out of my car I noticed that it was a lot colder outside than when I’d left, but luckily I had a jacket in my backseat, so I put it on and I walked down the little strip and down to the stairs that led down to the shore and the ocean. I took off my shoes when I got to the bottom of those steps. Nothing is worse than the feeling of sand in your shoes, nothing. Well, maybe wet socks, so I took off my socks, too, and carried them both. The sand was cold and it felt good beneath my bare feet. I didn’t see anyone else on the beach. I stood at the water’s edge, letting the tide come up and nip at my feet. The water felt freezing. A bird flew overhead. I looked out over the horizon and saw nothing but a black abyss. The night made the ocean look so menacing but so beautiful at the same time. It looked endless. I felt a tear fall down one of my cheeks but I wiped it up with my sleeve. Beauty can make a man weep. I heard a noise to my right. I turned my head and saw a girl standing about twenty feet from me. I don’t know how I hadn’t seen her earlier. She was wearing a dress and no shoes, and had shoulder-length hair. She picked something up from a small pile of things next to her, and then she threw it, with a pitch good enough to make any baseball coach proud, out into the ocean. I watched it fly and then hit the water. SPLASH! Then she reached down and picked up another whatever-it-was from the pile, and threw that too. I walked over to her. She didn’t seem to notice me, but I realized she was very pretty. In the moonlight, her pale skin looked almost white and she had a very kind, and very calm looking face. I looked down at the pile next to her and I saw that it was just a pile of rocks. How plain. I talked to her.

“Hi.”

She turned to me quickly as she drew back her arm to throw.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Nothing.” I laughed. “Can I ask what you’re doing?”

I knew what she was doing. She was throwing rocks at the ocean.

“What’s it look like I’m doing? I’m throwing rocks at the ocean.”

SPLASH!

“Well that’s not very nice of you. The ocean has feelings too, you know.”

She continued.

“I know. But the ocean isn’t very nice all the time, either.”

SPLASH!

I didn’t say anything as she picked up the last rock and threw it. Then she turned to me.

“What are you doing here?”

“I don’t know.”

She gave me a sort of look and then asked me, “Well that’s kind of boring now, isn’t it?”

I shrugged and she reached out her hand for me to shake.

“Jess.”

I smiled and shook her hand. It was cold and small. I was afraid I’d break it.

“David. Nice to meet you.”

“You too, David.”

“So, why are you throwing rocks at the ocean?”

She laughed and told me that the ocean had tried to swallow her when she was younger, and she was getting her revenge. She was afraid of swimming and the closest she’d get was just putting her feet in the water. She had a pretty smile and she smiled when she talked. She wasn’t wearing a jacket and I asked her if she was cold and she said yes but she liked being cold. I told her I was going to go for a walk and asked if she’d like to come with me.

“Sure,” she said. “I don’t live too far from here. You wanna just head there?”

“Sure.”

We walked up the stairs and down the strip. There were a lot of people out, drunk and dancing and enjoying the cool night air. We stopped at this little ice cream vendor with a long line and we got some ice cream. I offered to buy Jess’s but she insisted she get it herself. We walked and talked with our ice cream. It was good to be with her. She was kind, she was sweet, she seemed honest. I didn’t think about Beth once at all while we walked. We walked past my car and I pointed it out, and we turned some corner that led down a small street that was lined with palm trees, and we walked down a few blocks and arrived at a little duplex with a paved driveway and a porch. There was a big palm tree out front. She walked ahead of me to the door and opened it.

“Come in,” she said. I did.

The inside of her house was warm and it seemed cozy. There was a couch next to the door across from a television. She had a large collection of VHS tapes records. It was charming. I took my jacket off and set it down on the couch and smiled awkwardly at Jess as she did the same. We seemed to have some sort of connection, and we had just met. “Have a seat,” she said. I sat down on the couch on top of my jacket and she sat down next to me. She began to talk. She told me she was twenty-two years old and worked as a waitress at a diner. It was her day off. She was going to school for art. After a while of talking I began to doze off, and she told me I could stay with her for the night. She even invited me to sleep in her bed. The idea made me nervous at first, but I was tired and it probably would have been unsafe for me to drive, so I accepted. She brought me to her room, and I got under her covers with all my clothes on and closed my eyes. She went to the bathroom. I heard her pee and wash up, and then walk back into the room. I heard open a drawer. The sound of sliding something on. I opened one eye slightly. She was standing there without a shirt, wearing just a pair of shorts. She crawled into bed next to me and I pretended to be asleep. I felt her press up against me, her breasts on my back. I think she may have kissed my cheek. I wasn’t sure, because then I fell asleep.

When I woke up Jess was gone. I checked my watch. It was 9 am. I had to be at work in three hours. I was an hour away. I sat up and saw a folded piece of paper on the bedside table. It had my name on it. I opened it up.

“David, I had to go to work. There’s some coffee in the kitchen if you want some. Don’t worry about locking the house. It should be fine. Thanks for your company last night, and ignoring my advances. Maybe next time? Here’s my number.

- Jess.

I put the note in my pocket and went to her kitchen and looked around for a mug and poured myself some coffee. Then I remembered that I’d parked kind of far away so I hurried down the coffee and left. The neighborhood looked very bright and cheery in the day. All the houses were painted with warm colors and the palm trees looked fresh and alive. Not bad for a January in Florida. I walked past some old folk watering their lawns, and as I passed they waved and smiled. I waved and I smiled back. As I neared the strip, I began to see more and more of the bright blue sky that was welcoming the day. I could hear seagulls and other birds chirping a morning song. It was great. What a perfect day. What joy the earth was capable of bringing. Yes, life was – wait where’d my car go?

It was gone. The spot along the road where I’d parked last night was now holding a red motorcycle. Definitely not mine. I looked further down the street, just in case I’d been mistaken. Nope. It was gone.

“What…the fuck?” I said to myself. I looked at the ground next to the motorcycle that now resided where my car should have been. There, in very very faint painted lettering, were the words “MOTORCYCLE PARKING ONLY”. It was so faint that if it had been just a tiny bit dark out, I wouldn’t have been able to read it. God. Dammit. The first thing I did was pull out my phone and call my job. I told my boss my car had probably been towed and I’d probably be late.

“This is the last time, David.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“You betta be…”

I hung up. I looked around for a sign or something that would have a phone number to call so I could get my car back. No such luck. Such bullshit, I thought. There was a 7-11 a block up so I walked over to it. Some kid with a lot of tattoos was working.

“Hey, do you know who tows the cars around here? My car got towed down the block and there’s no sign or anything with info.”

He looked at me for a second and said, “Uhh…I don’t know…I think it’s the same dudes who tow everything around here. There’s a, uh, a sign in the parking lot behind here with a number on that…you should try it…”

“Thanks.”

I walked out and around the building and saw a TOW AWAY ZONE sign with a phone number on it. I called it. Sure enough, they had my car. It had been towed early that morning. It was going to cost me a lot of money to get it, and I’d need to come get it, which was tough, because my transportation was, well, towed. I called my work again. I asked to talk to my boss.

“Hey, boss. I got my car back but I got in a terrible car accident.”

“Oh, shit, David, are you okay?”

“No, I’m in the hospital.”

“Okay, well, just keep me updated.”

“I will.”

Click! Next I called Jess. She picked up.

“Hello, this is Jess, I’m at work so make it quick.”

“Hey Jess it’s David. My car got towed. Can you take me to get it when you get off?”

She laughed.

“Sure. I get off in two hours.”

“Thanks.”

“You can wait at my house if you want.”

“Okay.”

“See you later.”

Click!

So I walked back to Jess’s house, past the old folks and the pretty houses and the palm trees, and because I’d left the door unlocked as she’d told me I could, I let myself in and sat down on the couch. It was so comfortable I could have fallen back to sleep. I didn’t, though. I grabbed the remote off of the coffee table and turned on the TV. I flipped through the channels and decided on watching some old black and white horror movie that was on. It wasn’t bad but it wasn’t very good either. I looked over at her VHS tapes. It appeared to just be a collection of romantic comedies from the nineties. I didn’t much care for romantic comedies, but she had a few that I’d seen before. I looked around the room some more. It had a nicely set-up place. It was just girly enough, and the way things were decorated and arranged reminded me of her smile, in some strange way. That was something that only certain women were capable of having – a smile that could be seen in the things she touched - like a home, a meal, a handwritten note, a painting. You could see the radiance and the grandeur of a woman’s smile anywhere if she’d affected it, and it was always very, very apparent. I watched the movie on the TV and then another old movie came on. I can’t remember what it was called, but about fifteen minutes in the front door opened and Jess walked in wearing her work uniform. She looked good – short shorts, a white button-up shirt, her hair pulled back in a ponytail. She looked over at me.

“Hey there. Having fun?”

I smirked. I wasn’t not having fun. But I wasn’t having fun, either.

“Thank you so much for helping me out,” I said. I got up and gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. She looked at me for a second and smiled.

“I’ve got to get changed. I smell like bacon. Then we’ll go get your car. Is that okay?”

She did smell like bacon.

“Yes, that’s fine.”

She walked to her room and I stayed sitting on the couch. Then she came back wearing nothing. Yes, she was completely naked.

“Um,” I said. “I need to go get my car.”

“You will,” she said.

She leaned forward and put her hands on my shoulders. Her breasts hung in front of her. I didn’t realize they were so big. Then she was on top of me, legs wrapped around me. She kissed me but I didn’t kiss her back.

“What’s the matter? Come on…” She kissed me again and began messing with my shirt, trying to pull if up and off but I wouldn’t let her. She looked confused.

“Why?” she asked.

“We just met…”

“So?”

“I’m on my period.”

“Very funny.”

“I just can’t right now.”

“Fine.”

She stood up and walked back to her room. I didn’t move. She came back out into the living room wearing the same dress she’d been wearing the night before. She wasn’t smiling that smile that I so admired. She just looked at the floor.

“Come on, let’s go.”

I followed her out the door and to her car. The ride to the towing place was silent and awkward. When we got there she dropped me off and I said I’d call her some time. Then I paid to get my car back and I drove it home.

CHAPTER 3

A few days later Zach came by again. It was around 11 pm and I’d just gotten off of work and I was still in my uniform. I was in my kitchen making a sandwich when he knocked on my front door. I opened the door and he came in. He was high on mushrooms.

“I’m high on mushrooms,” he said.

“I know.”

“Dude.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m so high, on mushrooms.”

“I can tell, man.”

He sat down on my couch in my living room and took off his jacket. He threw it on my floor. I raised an eyebrow at him and walked back to my kitchen and finished making my sandwich. It was peanut butter and marshmallow fluff. I put it on a paper towel and walked back to the living room and sat down next to Zach. I took a bite.

“What are you doing, dropping by to see me so late?”

“I found something crazy, man.”

I looked at him. He was so high. What had he found?

”…What?”

He looked around nervously as if making sure that no one was listening. He leaned really close to me, his eyes bulging from his head.

“Dude…I found a fucking troll.”

I coughed.

“A what?”

“Yeah dude…like. A troll. From like, fairy tales and shit. I always thought they weren’t real but dude, they’re fucking real! I found one! It’s in my fucking trunk!”

I couldn’t believe what Zach was saying. Of course I knew he hadn’t actually found a “troll”, and was just high and out of his mind, but it was still ridiculous. At most, I figured he’d found a lawn gnome in someone’s yard and mistaken it for a real, living troll. I burst out laughing.

“What’s so funny David? This shit is serious. I could be famous! I found a troll!”

I stopped laughing and straightened up.

“Okay, okay. Let’s see it then.”

We got up and I put my shoes on. Zach went outside and I followed. He had parked in my driveway next to my car.

“All right man…you can’t tell anybody yet, you promise?” He had his hand on the trunk handle.

“I promise.”

He popped the trunk. I looked in. I screamed.

“OH MY GOD ZACH, THAT’S NOT A TROLL, THAT’S A FUCKING KID. WHAT THE FUCK MAN?!”

Sure enough, there was a little black boy out cold in Zach’s trunk. He couldn’t have been over five years old. He looked dead.

“What? No dude, that’s a troll. Look at him.”

I didn’t see anything troll-like about him. He was dark skinned, dressed in shorts and a t-shirt like any little kid would be. He was breathing, I could see that. That was good.

“Why the fuck did you put him in the trunk?!”

“Well he was in the front seat with me but he wouldn’t shut up.”

“So you put this kid in the trunk?”

“He’s a troll. Why don’t you believe me?”

“Because he’s a little fucking black kid!”

I reached down and picked the kid up, holding him with his head resting on my shoulder. I left Zach’s trunk open as he stood there looking dumbfounded.

“Dude, what the fuck, that’s my troll!”

“Fuck you Zach, come inside!”

I went inside and lied the kid down on the couch. He wasn’t awake even after me yelling and carrying him. He must have been unconscious.

“Dude…look how weird-looking he is,” said Zach.

“Shut up!”

I thought for a minute.

“Okay, Zach, where did you find him?”

He bit his lip, thinking.

“Uh, not too far from here man. Oh! Parramore! He was in some yard on Parramore!”

My heart sank. Parramore is the main street that runs through one of Orlando’s more dangerous ghettos, referred to as the “Parramore District”. Walking around there at night was an easy way to get mugged, robbed, or stabbed. The consequences for kidnapping someone’s little boy didn’t seem too positive.

“All right, listen. This is not a troll. This is a little kid. You’re high as fuck –“

“I am soooo high.”

“- yeah, and you’ve kidnapped a little black kid. What the hell, Zach? Now we have to take him back. Was he just in someone’s yard or what?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about man, he doesn’t look like any kid I ever seen. But yeah...he was like, just chilling in someone’s front yard. He was probably going to try and eat their cat or dog or something. I did those people a favor. Haven’t you read the stories? Trolls are dangerous…”

I decided that I couldn’t convince Zach otherwise while he was so high, so I played along.

“Okay, Zach, yes. He’s a troll. And trolls are dangerous. But trolls have homes too, you know. That was probably his home he was outside of. They don’t really break into people’s houses. And now if he wakes up and sees you’ve taken him away from his home, he’s going to be angry. And that could be very bad.”

Zach suddenly looked scared. I guess he believed it.

“Oh shit, man. I hadn’t even thought about that. I fucked up. What are we gonna do?”

He started to cry. He was genuinely scared now. It was the first time I’d seen Zach cry, ever.

I looked down at the kid and then put a hand on Zach’s shoulder.

“It’s going to be okay, Zach. We’ve just gotta take him back home. Do you remember exactly where you found him?”

Zach sniffed.

“…no.”

“All right then, we’ll have to ask him. See what you did?”

He panicked.

“No! No! Don’t wake him up! He’ll kill us! He’ll kill us! I can’t die yet! Please!”

“We’ll be fine. Hold on. You stay here with him.”

I went to the kitchen and grabbed a rag and wet it. Then I went back out into the living room and started dabbing the kid’s forehead with it. After a minute or so he opened his eyes. He looked around with the wonderment of any youngster. It was either going to be that or crying and screaming. I’m still glad he opted for the aforementioned.

“…Where am i?” he said.

“Kid, you’re at the doctor’s office,” I said. “Your mommy dropped you off here, but we’re taking you back home. Okay?”

The kid farted.

“I want my mommy.”

Zach blurted out, “Trolls have moms?!”

“Yes, yes they do.”

Then the kid looked scared.

“A troll? Where is a troll? Trolls are scary!”

“Shhh…”

Everyone got quiet.

“Okay, little boy, do you know your address?”

Thankfully, he did. He told it to me and I wrote it down on my hand.

“Okay,” I began. “Now before we take you home I need you to take some medicine. It won’t taste very good but you’re going to have to take it, or I’ll have to give you a shot!”

“No, no, no!” he screamed. “I don’t want a shot! Shots hurt!”

“Okay, then you’re going to have to cooperate and take this medicine, do you understand me?”

He nodded. Zach just stood there, staring off into space. I was a bit happy about that. I told him not to move, and he just nodded.

I grabbed a cup from my coffee table and went to my bathroom. There, I put a little bit of water into the cup and then crushed up a few sleeping pills into it. I shook it and mixed it up, then came back out into the living room. I handed the cup to the kid.

“All right, drink up!”

He smelled it.

“Yuck! This smells icky!”

“It’s that or a shot.”

He drank it down fast and gagged.

“Ew!”

He stuck his tongue out and tried spitting it out but he’d swallowed it all. Good.

“Now come on, let’s get you home.”

I walked him and Zach to my car. I put the kid in the backseat and Zach in the front next to me. The kid passed out as soon as he sat down. My idea had worked. Zach turned around and looked at him.

“Dude…where’d the kid come from?”

“Oh, Jesus Christ.” I pulled out of the driveway.

Parramore was an unpleasant place both at night and during the daytime. During the day, though, one was less likely to become the victim of any sort of violent crime. I’d had an old friend once who used to live there. He’d said that this one time, he went for a walk to 7-11 and he saw this lady get robbed in her car in the parking lot. And this other time, he was coming home from work and he saw this guy get jumped for a few cents. ­The actual street consisted of a few (really good, I might add) restaurants, and further down were the run-down, derelict houses and apartments. Driving through during the day time would see street corners and empty lots a gathering place for neighborhood folk, a harkening back to simpler times and better days. Luckily, this kid lived right on the street, so I wouldn’t have to carouse through any unfamiliar neighborhoods. As I moved towards the address the kid had given me, I passed by some sinister looking fellows, being sure not to slow down or look suspicious, although I still caught some unfriendly looks. I finally reached the address. It was a shitty-looking shack and all the lights were out, so I hoped no one was awake inside. I pulled up along the curb across the street. I couldn’t see anyone nearby. Zach had fallen asleep. What an asshole, I thought. I reached into the backseat and opened the door and pushed the kid out. I’m pretty sure he woke up when he hit the concrete, but I drove off too fast to really make sure.

CHAPTER 4

I called Jess the next morning. I hadn’t talked to her since she’d dropped me off at the towing place and I felt kind of bad. I think I liked her, but I was pretty sure I loved Beth still, but Beth was with someone else. Jess was happy to hear from me, and I invited her to come visit me and said I’d take her out to dinner. We made plans to meet at my house around seven that night. It was another one of my days off and she only had to work a short lunch shift. I spent the day cleaning my house and running errands. I even changed my sheets.

Jess arrived at my house at 6:57. She was wearing a short red dress with a gray cardigan sweater. I watched her legs from my window as she walked up to my door. She didn’t see me. She looked nervous. She knocked. I answered.

“Hi!” she blurted out as soon as she saw me.

“Well don’t you look beautiful.” I gave her a hug and let her in. She blushed.

“Thank you,” she said, smiling.

She really did look beautiful. That smile was really stunning. I had almost forgotten since I’d last seen her, somehow.

“Have a seat.”

She sat down on the couch and I sat down next to her.

“Well. This is my place.”

“It’s nice.”

“Thank you.”

We just smiled at each other. I felt an awkwardness still left over from the incidents of the last time we’d seen each other, but I tried to ignore it. Silence.

“So…what’s for dinner?” She said.

I laughed.

“You must be hungry.”

“A little.”

“Well –“

My phone rang,

“Just a minute.”

“Okay.”

I got up and walked to my bedroom and picked up the phone. It was Beth. Oh, fuck, I thought.

“David, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for leaving you again. Please forgive me. Sean left me and I -”

“Sean?”

“I mean, that guy I was with.”

“I see. Go on.”

“He left me and I realized that I miss you. I need you. I love you.”

“Look, Beth, can we talk later? I’m kind of busy right now.”

Beth went silent for a moment.

“…what are you doing?”

“I’m busy.”

I leaned and looked out into the living room from my bedroom. Jess was sitting on the couch, looking through one of my books I’d left on the coffee table. Her dress was up high and her thighs were showing. I felt myself get hard. Shame on you, I thought. Shame on you.

Beth snapped me back into reality.

“Busy, huh? Are you with some slut?”

“No.”

“You’re with some slut, aren’t you? You’ve met some bitch, haven’t you? Who is she? I’ll kill her!” She was yelling.

“No, Beth, I’m just busy.” I stayed calm and quiet. She began to scream even louder.

“YOU ASSHOLE! HOW COULD YOU DO THIS?! HERE I AM JUST TRYING TO BE WITH YOU AND YOU’RE WITH SOME FUCKING SLUT! I’LL KILL HER! I’M COMING OVER THERE RIGHT NOW AND I’M GOING TO FUCKING KILL HER!”

“Goodbye, Beth.”

“I’M COMING OVER THERE, YOU ASSHOLE! STAY RIGHT THERE!”

I hung up and walked back into the living room. Jess looked up at me.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just bill collectors. Let’s go eat.”

Jess smiled.

“Okay, awesome! I’m so hungry!”

I grabbed her hand and led her out the door. I locked it.

I took Jess to this little Vietnamese restaurant where the food was good and the service was superb. I ate there a lot and the staff knew me by name, so it made me look a bit more important to Jess. That was what I was going for, at least. I’d taken Beth there maybe once before, months earlier. We sat down at a table by the window that looked out at the busy street, and we sat across from each other.

“I’ve never had Vietnamese food before,” Jess said.

“You’re in for a treat.” I told her.

She smiled that wonderful smile again.

“I’m really glad you called me. I was hoping I’d see you again.”

“No problem.”

We ordered drinks and Jess scanned the menu while I pretended to do the same. I already knew what I wanted because I always ordered the same thing. Our waiter returned with our drinks. He was a little guy, about five-six, with his hair spiked in the front with too much gel. He had a high voice and a thick accent.

“Ah you leddy to oder (Are you ready to order)?”

I nodded at Jess. She looked up at him, surprised.

“Oh, yes! I would like…this one!”

She pointed to something on the menu.

“Ah, yes, yes. Good good!” nodded the waiter.

I ordered my usual.

“Okay! Yo’ food wir be hee-yah shote-ry (Your food will be here shortly)!”

For a while, Jess talked. I listened. She was an interesting girl, with a lot to say about everything. She was so bubbly and full of life. Her smile held me, but I was attracted to little things about her – the way she twitched when she talked, the movement of her hands to illustrate what she was saying, and even her slightly bird-like nose. I think the more she talked, the more I liked her. It was strange, because with most women, the more they talked, the more I disliked them. But Jess, Jess was different. And she wasn’t Beth. That was good. Our food came and we ate it, and then I did most of the talking. Somehow the conversation shifted to me mentioning that I wrote poems in my spare time, and I was going to write a novel soon, and this really excited her. She asked me if she could real one of my poems. I was hesitant at first but after seeing her smile again, I said yes. She said she couldn’t wait to get back to my house and read one. I’d written a lot of poems about Beth. I’d be sure not to let her read any of those. We finished up eating, or at least I did. Jess said her food was too spicy and left about half of it on her plate. The check came, I paid, and we left. On the ride home, Jess grabbed my crotch while I was driving.

We pulled into my driveway. I didn’t see Beth’s car anywhere and I felt a wave of relief come over me. I half expected her to be waiting in my front yard with a shotgun. She had a bad temper and such behavior wouldn’t have surprised me too much. I got out of the car and walked around the other side and let Jess out. I was trying to be a gentleman. I even grabbed her hand as she got out, and kissed it. She giggled at this.

“Such a charmer,” she said.

“I try.”

I walked her to the front door, holding her hand. She made me feel good. Inside, I was filled with a joy and warmth that only appears when you first meet someone special. Everyone experiences it once. I think the first time I ever did was when I was in middle school, and I had a crush on this girl in my math class. Every day I’d be excited to go to school and to that class, even though I hated it, just because I’d see her. That sort of feeling just got stronger as I got older, and met people. I think it’s what eventually develops into love, except it’s a lot easier to dismiss and doesn’t hurt as bad. With this feeling, you could feel it once, and lose it, and then you’d be okay until you found it again. With love, once you lost it, you were miserable until it came along again, if it did at all. When we got to my front door, I grabbed her waist, pulled her close to me, and I finally kissed her. She pulled me into her, reaching her hands up and grabbing my face. I felt her mouth open and her tongue touch mine. We did this for a minute and when our faced parted, our eyes met and we both smiled. We didn’t need to say anything at all. I reached for my keys with one hand while she anxiously grabbed at my other hand. I put the key in, and tried turning it. But, I didn’t have to. It was unlocked. Actually, upon looking at the lock, I noticed that the lock was slightly disconnected from the door, and was sort of just sitting in place without any sort of fastening.

“Oh. Fuck.”

I turned the knob and pushed my door open as the knob came out in my hand. I dropped it and my jaw and I felt Jess’s grip on my hand loosen. I stepped inside. My house had been trashed. Completely and utterly. My coffee table was no longer in my living room. No, it was in my kitchen. Upside down. On top of my refrigerator. That was laying on its side. With its door open. From the bottom. All the food inside was strewn about the kitchen. Jars and bottles were broken on the floor, and several were in the living room. My couch was torn to shreds, as if a tiger had decided to use it as a scratching post. I used to have a mirror on the wall directly across from the door. It wasn’t there anymore. I let go of Jess’s hand and said “Wait here.” She looked terrified. I’d never seen a girl look so scared before. She took a step back and stayed in the doorway as I headed towards my room, stepping over random clutter in my way – a pillow, a bottle of dish soap, my record player, my copy of The Grapes Of Wrath by John Steinbeck. The door to my room was closed. I opened it, slowly, cautiously, and screamed. It was like I’d opened the door to a mix of the Godfather and Rosemary’s Baby all at once. My sheets, newly changed, were covered in blood. I can say blood without any doubt because on my pillows rested a very real goat’s head, dripping dark red crimson. Where the hell did goats even live around Orlando? I was confused but still observing the damage. My bookshelf had been knocked over, and the books were thrown all over the room (and out of it). The cat litter box that I still had for my cat that ran away was spilled on the floor. My desk was also knocked over, and my computer had fallen onto the floor. Luckily, it didn’t look damaged, but I wasn’t sure. I had a box of poems I’d printed out that I kept under my desk, and that remained in place. I believed in God for a moment, and thanked him. But then there was, of course, the grand finish – written in what I hoped was lipstick across the wall above my bed were the words “FUCK YOU DAVID.” I heard something move behind me, and I turned around, startled, to find Jess coming into my room. She still looked so scared.

“What happened?” she said. “Who did this? Who would do this to you?”

“I don’t know,” I answered. But I did know. It had to have been Beth, even though it was unlike anything I ever could have imagined her doing. I didn’t have any enemies except her when she and I were enemies. She said she’d be coming over. I began to wonder if there would have been less damage if I’d been home. I might have even preferred if she’d been waiting with the shotgun.

“I’m so sorry…this is not what I had planned for tonight…”

“It’s okay…you can’t help it…” Jess spoke softly. “Should you call the police?”

“No…I hate cops. Just, can I stay at your place tonight? I’ll clean this up tomorrow.”

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

“All right. Let’s go.”

I took another look at my room and turned off the light, and we made our way out of the living room and out of the house. I put the knob back into its place and closed the door as much as I could. I wasn’t too worried about anyone breaking in. The worst had already been done.

It was around with 11:00 when we got to Jess’s house. She drove. On the way there we managed to talk and joke around a little bit, and the anxiety that had overtaken me when I’d seen the damage done to my house wore off. She was magic, I thought. When we got there we went inside and went straight to her bedroom. We picked up where we had left off. She fell backwards onto her bed and pulled me on top of her, my mouth in hers. Her legs wrapped around mine, her arms around my neck. We kissed like this for a while, and she pulled off my jacket, my shirt. I pulled her up to remove her sweater and her dress, and she fooled with my belt and slipped it off. Then it was my pants, her bra, my shorts, her panties, and we rolled around naked, kissing and holding each other without fucking. But then we fucked and it was really good and we fell asleep.

When I woke up Jess was next to me, her head on my chest. She was still asleep. I checked the time. It was 10 am. I was a man obsessed with the time. I always had to know what time it was. People who noticed this often asked if I was waiting for something, or if I had something planned, or if I had to be somewhere, to which I always replied “eventually”. Eventually, I’d be dead and my corpse would be in the ground and over time, I’d become dirt and flowers would grow out of me, and they’d be beautiful and bright and full of life. I kissed Jess on the forehead and she just kind of wiggled. I kissed her again, hoping that I might wake her up. It worked. She opened her eyes and looked up at me and smiled.

“Good morning,” I said.

“Hey there.”

She reached her head up and kissed me.

“When do I need to take you back home?” she asked.

“Pretty soon, I guess. I gotta work at four and I’ve still gotta clean that mess up.”

“Okay. I’ll get up then.”

Jess kissed me again and rolled out from under the covers, naked. She got up and grabbed a pair of panties off of her floor – there were a few lying around – slipped them on, and went to the bathroom. I watched her ass as she walked. I could see her breasts from behind her. She disappeared into the bathroom and I got up, found my clothes at the foot of the bed, and got dressed. Jess came back soon after and rummaged through her dresser for a bit, then pulled out some jeans and a shirt and put them on. She grabbed a rubber band from a little box on top of the dresser and put her hair in a ponytail, then turned to me.

“You all ready?”

“I’ll need some coffee before I’m ready for anything.”

“Oh, hush. We’ll get you some on the way. I gotta get gas anyway. Come on.”

I came on.

Jess dropped me off at my house without getting out of her car. She had to be at work at 3. I kissed her as I got out of her car, a long, warm, wet kiss, and she grabbed my face and said “Good luck” as I got out. I just smiled. As she pulled off, I stood in my front lawn, looking up towards my doorstep. My car was still there, the tires weren’t slashed. My lawn was still green and lush and the flowers I kept were still planted in the ground. My windows weren’t broken. It could have been worse, I thought. I sighed and walked up the path to my front door, reaching for my keys at first but then remembering that I wouldn’t need them. I got to my door and pushed it, expecting it to open. But, it didn’t. It didn’t budge at all. Odd, I thought. I tried again. Nothing. I grabbed the knob and tried to turn it, push it, pull it. It didn’t move. I looked at it carefully, and to my surprise it was completely fastened into the door, like it should have been.

“What…”

I reached for my keys. I put my house key in the lock and I turned it and my door opened. My doorknob was fixed. I stepped inside my house. It looked completely normal and clean. No scattered clutter. No misplaced coffee table. No toppled fridge. I’d even go as far as to say it looked better than when I’d cleaned it. I closed the door behind me and went to my room. It was fine. No goat’s head. No goat’s blood. Clean sheets. A tidy desk. It was like nothing had ever happened. I noticed a little piece of folded paper on my desk. I picked it up and unfolded it. It was a note. Of course.

David,

I’m sorry I overreacted. I didn’t even listen to what you had to say on the phone. I’ve cleaned up the mess I made. I came by to apologize in person but you weren’t here. I’m sure you just were staying with Zach. At least, I hope. Anyways, again, I’m sorry. I love you.

- Beth.

I clutched the note tight in my hand and fell face-first onto my bed. My sheets smelled like fabric softener and Febreeze. I was either really lucky or completely fucked. I didn’t know yet. I sat up and dialed Beth’s number. She didn’t pick up but I got her answering machine so I left her a message.

“Hey Beth. You’re fucking crazy. Please leave me alone for a while. I love you. Don’t call me back.”

I hung up and I cried. I didn’t know why I was crying, but it was probably because I was still in love with her. I was still in love with the woman who cheated on me countless times and wrecked my house. But she’d also cleaned it. Why did this give her some sort of retribution in my mind? I didn’t know, I don’t know. Love is weird and it doesn’t make sense and I hate it. I thought about Jess. I didn’t love her. I liked her and I felt good with her, but I didn’t love her. I liked her more than I liked Beth. I didn’t like Beth, not then. But I did love her. Goddammit, I thought. What will I do? It was time to move on, time to put Beth behind me. It had been time to do that for a long time. I wiped the tears from my eyes with my sleeve and I got up and walked to my kitchen. I grabbed a knife for the knife-holder, the biggest and sharpest one I had. I examined it. It was shiny, clean, with a silver blade and black plastic handle. I had used it to cut onions. I stabbed it into my heart.

CHAPTER 5

Obviously, I didn’t die. It turns out, I passed out from blood loss and by chance, but also probably, routine, Zach came by my house a few minutes after I’d stabbed myself, let himself in, and found me and brought me to the hospital. I woke up to him sitting next to my hospital bed. He was reading one of the books from my bookshelf. He looked at me and shook his head.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” he asked.

“Ughhhhh.”

I was weak and I was weary. My chest didn’t hurt, to my surprise. I looked down and saw that it was wrapped in a thick layer of bandages. I had a blanket pulled up to my stomach. I wasn’t sure if I was wearing pants or not.

“The doctor said if I’d left you another minute, you wouldn’t have made it.”

“That was…kind of my goal…” I croaked. My voice sounded quiet and tired.

“Yeah, well, you can’t always get what you want, can you?”

“Ughhhhh.”

I stared up at the ceiling. White stucco. I was hooked up to an IV and there was a little tray of food at the other side of my bed. I wasn’t very hungry, though. I tried sitting up. It worked. I cleared my throat and shook my head and spoke. I was in no pain at all. They must have given me some good drugs, I thought.

“Where the hell is my doctor? I want to go home.”

“He said he’ll be back soon. You can’t leave yet, though. You’ve only been here overnight. They wanna make sure you’re okay, first. And they’re probably going to recommend you some counseling.”

I groaned.

“Ughhhhhhh. Fuck that.”

I rested my head back down and closed my eyes.

“If I can’t even die right, what can I do?”

“I don’t know. But that was stupid. Don’t ever do that shit again.”

And when I thought about it, I didn’t want to. I’d just tried, and failed. Attempted suicide. I could cross that off my bucket list. If I’d succeeded, then I wouldn’t have regretted it later, because I’d be dead. But I’d failed, and I was alive, and so be it. That was just how it was going to be.

“I can’t stay here with you all day, are you gonna be all right just being here by yourself?” Zach asked.

“Yeah, thanks man.”

“You’re on a bunch of medication. You should be asleep.”

“I’m too restless for sleep.”

“Or death, apparently.”

“I guess.”

Zach kept reading, and I thought. I thought about Jess. What if she knew that I’d tried to kill myself? Would she come see me in the hospital? Probably. Would she still care about me, would she still want to see me? Probably not. No one wants to be around someone who’s depressed. I didn’t act depressed, but attempted suicide said a lot. I decided to keep the truth from her if I could, at least for a while. And Beth? What would she think? Would she feel guilty? I kind of wanted her to, but I didn’t want to talk to her, so I put that thought aside.