Cold rain falls in the river, flows down to the sea, gets into the skyline, circles endlessly. Same old rain on the wind, same old pain in my soul.

Sunday, August 29, 2010

Fred In The Morning

This was inspired by a conversation I had with my good friend, Annie (she cringes). Fred was mentioned and away went my mind to the possibilities of his real life. My apologies to all who will be offended and to Annie for tagging her.

The broken twisted blinds let the dirty sunlight in once again and his bloody eyes clenched in terror.
Rolling over, he tried to focus as he surveyed the ruins.
There was an empty wine bottle lying prone on the dresser. In the corner, a bottle of Jim Beam balanced itself precariously on the edge of the TV.
On the filthy floor, in between, was a soggy pizza box with a slice turned upside down a few feet away.
Straining to look over to the door, he took note that a slice had been ground into it and now, below, two cockroaches feasted on what remained.
His bed was just a single pushed into the corner under the window overlooking third avenue. The flashing neon didn't effect his sleep and it was a place for the cigarrette smoke to escape.

Someone now layed on the horn on the street below and yelled. He cringed and leaned to the window.
"Hey Dickhead! People live here, ya know!"
He got up to get a smoke and looked back to a bed that hadn't been made in months. Hell, he couldn't even remember ever washing the sheets.

He was naked except for the lazy white-grey briefs that long ago lost their form. He scratched his balls and staggered to the small stove.
"That bitch!"
His smokes were gone.

Reaching under the cabinet he fumbled and found the one he had stashed. It was sticky and he sneered at it.
Closing the white cainet door that hung crookedly before him, he found a message scribbled in lipstick staring back at him.
"fuck you ass hole!"
He gave it the finger and glanced out the window as he lit the cigarrette.
"Shit. Nice ass." he whispered through the first exhale as he grew hard watching a young woman on the sidewalk.
When the phone rang, he turned and stared at it as if asking, "Is that all you got?"
After a dozen rings it gave up.

Walking to the tiny bathroom, he paused to finish off the Beam before it crashed to the floor.
After brushing his teeth and peeing mostly on target, the phone rang again and he interrupted his search for more smokes to answer it.
"Yes, i'm sure that'll be fine, Kids love trains and engineers." then, addin after hanging up the phone, "maybe one will fall on the track. Now THAT'D be a show!"
An hour later, smartly dressed and hair finely combed, fred stepped out onto third and flagged a cab.
The secret life of mr. Rogers