Friday, July 30, 2010

July 30th

There has been a noise complaint, I lean in my doorway smoking a cigarette, its humid and drizzling, the kind of sticky weather where you feel dirty all day long- above the clouds are black and menacing the birds are silent, hard rain will come soon.

"Ma'am, I just need to take down some information," the officer says to me. I admire how seriously he is taking this situation and himself it must be wonderful to know your place in the world.

"What do you do?" he asks, all business with his pad flipped open, the corpses of a thousand dead crickets beneath his heavy boots.

'I write, I tell him, " Really?" He seems interested, impressed even, "What do you write about, do your support yourself," I stop him by putting my hand up: "I didn't say I was any good." The rain along with the wind picks up. He goes back to business; " Someone has had their television turned up very loud, telemundo, is the channel that was mentioned in the report..................

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Peep hole

There is a knock at my door, I standing semi-dressed eyeing a man I have never seen before through my peep hole.

"Yeah," I say, running my toes along the grit of my cheap parquet floor, when was the last time I swept I wonder.

"Ma'am, I want to thank you for leaving your television on," he says, what the hell is this guy talking about? Through the peep hole I see he holds his hat in his hand, rain is dripping from the upper floor eves, my view of the world through the peep hole has a distorted quality, like the fish lens effect in Heath ledger's last movie, I like it.

"My T.V's not on sir," I explain, more interested in the nifty distortion of the peep hole, " I heard voices, he states flatly:

"I do not understand why you are thanking me for having my television on," this conversation is decidedly strange;

"I just moved in" he tells me, "Oh," I say to him, "the walls are very thin, you will get use to it in time, we all do," "but I heard voices" he tells me- AGAIN: he has officially annoyed me.

"Maybe your a schizophrenic," I suggest, through the peep hole I can see this upsets him, I don't care. I go into the bedroom and turn my television to telemundo cranking the volume full blast, than I sit at my desk and listen to my tomahawk play list loudly, while I write- I wish I was drunk.

Tuesday, May 4, 2010

Checking out

I was checking out of the motel I had spent a restless night in. No one was at the front desk. I waited for some time I glanced out the window at the rain, when I turned back towards the desk a women was there, I had not heard her approach. She said nothing just stood watching me with green vacant eyes. I found her unsettling. I said nothing and handed her my room key. She took it with out a word. I turned away and headed for the door.
“Sir,” she called out. I turned around. “Do you find me attractive?”
The room seemed to have grown smaller. She kept her empty eyes fixed on me. Inexplicably the desk was inching its way closer and closer to me. Till it pressed against me, pushing its hard angles into my weak flesh. I found myself face to face with the spooky green-eyed woman.
She kissed me. My back was against the door, Reaching behind me I felt for the door handle. Despite myself I felt myself getting aroused. I did not want to be aroused by a spooky green-eyed woman with supernatural motel powers- but I was. The situation was hopeless. I could not find the door handle, and every moment I failed to escape I was becoming more and more drawn in. Soon there would be no escape. The kiss went on for an unnaturally long time. It was uncomfortable. My neck became stiff; my lips were tender her lips were course and dry. The kiss went on and on. At long last she pulled away. I sighed. For a moment she looked deep into my eyes they were not vacant now but filled with the basest lust and desperation. The intensity of her gaze made me feel naked- within in her gaze was a unflattering reflection of my own unfulfilled needs. When it seemed that all was lost- my hand grasped the handle of the door.
Running through the pouring rain I located my car and climbed inside. The green-eyed front desk clerk was waiting patiently for me. I began driving quickly from the motel. My plan was to act as though there was nothing strange about her being in my car. Nothing strange, about how she was able to beat to me my car, through the rain, without getting wet, nothing strange about the fact she was able to get inside my car without keys, nothing strange about the small childish suitcase she was grasping to her chest, no, there was nothing strange about this at all.
What else could I do? “I am all packed.” She informed me. “Good, I hope you brought a bathing suit.” I said. “No, I did not why would I?” “So we can go swimming of course.” My voice came out cheerful, full of anticipation of good times. “This rain will never end.” She told me. I looked over at her in the dim twilight of the car, her voice was so sad. I saw that she was crying. I was invaded by her sorrow. I pulled the car over and parked -we were on a bluff over looking a river surrounded by ragged mountains, ghostly gray shapes in the rain.
I attempted to remove the tiny suitcase from her grasp. But she struggled, she put up a fight. I was furious that she should resist me. With great violence I wrested the small plastic case from her: the hard plastic edges brusing the tender flesh of her upper arms. She whimpred and then gave up- her arms went limp and she struggled no more.
I opened it, inside was a baffling mixture of things. A dolls dress, a dildo, a wratcet set, a certificate proclaiming her satisfactory completion of a two year hotel management program, loose change, Mini- blinds, comprehensive instructions on mainting your very own square foot garden, a gold ring. The clothing was the wardrobe of a young girl, all cheerful pastels. I searched for a swim suit. There was none. “You should have packed a swim suit.” I told her. “Now the rain will never end.” She turned to me and I could see she had shrunk she was now a little girl. I watched her as she turned the key in the ignition and put the car in drive. “I apologize, usually check out is less traumatic.” She told me. “I see,” I replied. By now the car was in freefall and I knew soon it would crash into the river below.