Writing & Writers

“Waking up after a bad dream”

"I know the dark delight of being strange..." Claude McKay

I know I’m not too much of a bargain
And you know that’s not what you bargained for
–“The Good Old Days” Eels

This is as close to normalcy that I can achieve.  I find it hard to accept so much as a cup of pity from those who love me. It’s a wonder, really. All these people who call themselves weak-minded have the strength to love me. There has to be strong will to love me. Strong will and strong minded, not ready to crumble.

Yesterday afternoon, Anderson stood in the open foyer, smoking ziggies he rolled up himself. Earlier, when the dawn light filled the room with phantom orbs of dust, he undressed in front of the mirror and studied such a luscious body – chiseled and well toned. He preferred the white, pale flesh to the carrot tan that was all the rage these days. Cooper blonde hair that fell over his face in wisps. That sexy jangly walk of his. There was always somewhere to go, ain’t there, Mackie, he’d say or something to that fact. Five dollars a head and six for extra furnishing, was his motto. Never knew exactly what the fuck it meant, but maybe it was just his way of saying that nothing in life was ever really free. That things always came with some sort of price.

“Are you all right there, Mackie?” he said, entering the room in which I sat slumped over the writing desk, pen in hand and papers scattered across the floor.

“Fine, yeah,” I said.

He grabbed loose leaf sheets and scanned them with his baby blues. He still refused to wear a shirt in this house we called home for the month. No one was coming to visit us, he’d say. And if there was someone, he’d add, he’d take off his pants as well. I might as well enjoy such liberating freedoms. Don’t be so uptight, Mackie. It’s only life.

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