All within seconds of midnight....
Smoking candle filtering out dark thoughts. This is the illumination necessary. A beacon throttled by surrounding darkness at the end of a deep hallway. To figure a night realizing physical nature of being. The back aches due to terrible posture for consistent hours. This is a shell that should be taken care of. Wake into good treatment of this body. Sufficient time resting with vivid dreams in deep REM sleep should lead for an extremely capable day. Blood flows properly in this living machine. Articulating movements beyond my comprehension. A melee of functioning electronic signals shooting in delicate process about this outer shell. This abundant atmosphere. All-encompassing. To comprehensively include. The inner workings like clocks ticking. Impacting in meteoric cadence in that atmosphere. Lively scientific poetic research fueled by mathematical functions. A chaotic swerving? Brain burning like boiling water. In a test tube full of liquor, in celebration of a brand new holiday, thrown just now for the very first year, to be carried on for the rest of our lives and implemented into middle school children's pocket agendas, even after they no longer take a physical form, in the form of a smart phone app, the teacher's lesson plans some ancient mystery, a national holiday begun in the perfect setting. Maybe I will see you on holiday.
Twitching nervously under street lamp. Back against the dirty wall, lighting zippo on leg of jeans. Holding flame, marveling about the hypothetical astonishment a caveman might have at such an invention, the character reaches for a cigarette out of pack in coat pocket. Lines up the end of the cigarette within the reach of the continued flame and inhales. Exhale is exhaust mixed with condensation in the cold air. Similar concept to what creates a jet-trail line in the sky after an airplane passes through a cloud. A cab pulls up and the stranger stubs out cigarette after a few puffs, representing only a slight indulgence of nicotine via tobacco, an old addiction hanging on in brief outdoor sessions, at bus stops in the rain, sharing in a small huddle.. Light rain falls from a grey sky, sun shining somewhere above it all, always up there until implosion. A car, an old mystery of physics back in the day, swerves around the cab, the driver honking and yelling. Curse words like 'shit' and 'fuck' at the top of his god damned corroded lungs. Cab driver gives him the finger and allows man previously standing under street lamp, lighting a cigarette with a zippo on the right leg of his jeans, to enter the back of the car. No longer an intimate knowledge of the streets and information to share of the sights and sounds surrounding them. Certified is to have GPS and speak English not proper. Follow directions and no tell to stop when asked out to leave. Purposeful gibberish. Control remains. The address is typed into this GPS, young man with zippo, clicking it open and shut loud enough for a dirty look from driver, wishing he had hand sanitizer who avoid accidentally contaminating himself with germs from this dependent technological. Follow an arrow as opposed to intricate schema of the layout of a city like a giant blueprint of the mind, a map of the city imprinted in the grey matter to make use of the small percentage of lost cells.
The small percentage of true lost souls. Others run into a decision. Some have to let it crash upon them and the choice thus become obvious. Like a tidal wave decimating an island village. You are the naive natives holding steadfast in thin huts and canoes as the sky darkens from the height and majesty of the wave. Something no record keeper would be alive to keep. The sky will seem black for days prior to thunderous crash of liquid upon earth similar to a pebble dropped into a lake but in the reverse and on a larger scale by mass.
Chiseled in stone. Taxi driver swerving madly through traffic, while on the phone. Waiting to receive payment from a future customer. Pushing against each other like we aren't all a part of the human race. Same path to hit that pedestrian who was literally skipping across the street in a strange trance. Something pure and simple and never questioned and poorly thought out. She was just running across to avoid an argument on the curb of the sidewalk but was side swiped by the rushing taxi, the driver glimpsing up momentarily to continue giving back passenger a dirty look. Knocked her off her feet and cracked the windshield. Blood.
Cab driver pulls over, yelling in a foreign language. Ignorant American ears could not identify accent with any validity. A random guess might prove right. Have watched history channel. Yelling into phone and ignoring the awful wreck he has caused. The passenger exits the vehicle to investigate the scene and call for help. Queasy at the sight of blood in the street, covers mouth with hand, finds a fresh cigarette and zippo, hands shaking, and jogs to cab driver to get him to call for help.
"Are you calling for help?"
"(something in a different language, spoken aggressively into phone, no attention paid to question)"
"Look at what happened! Call for help!"
"Long distance business. Cannot hang up."
He spits at his feet and continues to speak in tongue.
Other man runs toward woman but is afraid to touch her for fear of broken bones becoming more broken, tendons stretching further away from their positions at rest.
Yells for help.
Light drizzle becoming stronger.
Continues to yell, streets suddenly seem barren though finally an ambulance comes after a good citizen watching the whole thing something high above decided to call in before all the violence could get entertaining and quick.
