(Sorry!)
Sorry for making mistakes;
I shrunk instead of growing as I aged.
timeline (I perceived):
past,
moroccan,
nutjob realtors,
vans,
reasonable man,
dub in ya mind,
hemorrhaged beliefs,
emaciated confidence,
death stab,
rebirth,
neglect,
phototropic nihilism,
inexorably denied.
reasons:
quiet confusion,
foreign objects are closer than they appear,
bleached brains,
torched soul like a torched bowl.
results:
Surface indifference,
internal explosion.
dormant resentment,
dense, dense words.
conclusion:
petals on a wet, black bough.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
The Facts of Hate
I hate this keyboard
And these words
and this stupid language
and all the actors who speak it
and all the inequities of happenings
the ability of some to lay guilt free
the ability of some to lay guilt stricken
stupid fucking emotional breakdowns
fatigue and its ugly piece of shit breath
chivalry and its neverending depiction of less than the truth
cowardice in the style of fatigue
anything wrapped in smoke, mirrors, dust, nothingness
pacmen of kindness,
generalizations of anything, soon nothing,
restated facts draped in night time revelary.
midnight attacks,
nowhere to run,
nothing but stress,
nothing but the opposite of clarity, not the word,
not the word,
not the word,
not the word.
the feeling
the feeling
the feeling
Words suck due to the fact they don't really say what they mean,
they are only inklings of a natured thought,
semantics and its ugly head,
a giant, pathetic monster.
like a lake of terms and fruitless actions,
this is a full fledged dip,
spiralling pencil dive.
and in the end? amounts to nothing.
couple of choice memories,
the less desirables are expunged,
convenience is the key to the language game.
fuck you convenience.
And these words
and this stupid language
and all the actors who speak it
and all the inequities of happenings
the ability of some to lay guilt free
the ability of some to lay guilt stricken
stupid fucking emotional breakdowns
fatigue and its ugly piece of shit breath
chivalry and its neverending depiction of less than the truth
cowardice in the style of fatigue
anything wrapped in smoke, mirrors, dust, nothingness
pacmen of kindness,
generalizations of anything, soon nothing,
restated facts draped in night time revelary.
midnight attacks,
nowhere to run,
nothing but stress,
nothing but the opposite of clarity, not the word,
not the word,
not the word,
not the word.
the feeling
the feeling
the feeling
Words suck due to the fact they don't really say what they mean,
they are only inklings of a natured thought,
semantics and its ugly head,
a giant, pathetic monster.
like a lake of terms and fruitless actions,
this is a full fledged dip,
spiralling pencil dive.
and in the end? amounts to nothing.
couple of choice memories,
the less desirables are expunged,
convenience is the key to the language game.
fuck you convenience.
Friday, August 13, 2010
Passages — Chapter 5
Unpleasant conversations...Treacherous stairs to attic rooms...Rasta Jah at the Meat Market...Hawaiian Grass and Malaysian Hash...Replay the Drama
"Hey, are you still mad at me?" It was Kim saying it in her little voice, timid and afraid of the response, with a cadence of interest.
"I don't know, Kim." The author of these passages responded. "Honestly, I really don't know." Then, "Actually, Yes. I am still mad." It's not that Cal was actually mad at Kim, in fact, it was opposite, he wasn't really mad at all...anymore. He was way past mad. It stretched out so far, it went into the territory of apathy. "I'm sorry, I can't talk about this anymore, bye."
Apathy for a person who he spent countless hours talking to, discussing anything and everything and the world seemed completely possible with Kim and now he's completely apathetic and could care less if she dropped dead right now. If he got a call tomorrow from Dave and found out Kim killed herself, Cal would just think about the fact that Kim won't call him anymore and that this idea pleased him. Though it's not that Cal ACTUALLY wishes or wants Kim to die. He could care less either way.
Here comes another call. So he picks up the phone because he can't not pick it up and he tries to keep it civil but always comes back to Kim wondering if the author was still mad at her. This time, for a split second, he wanted to be honest with her - truly honest like he was when they began dating - then reason set his mind onto the fact that honesty doesn't work with Kim because she has the uncanny ability to twist anything you say into a pretzel and physically throw it back at you...even over the phone. Kim was crazy. Kim IS crazy. Cal is an idiot for even bothering to pick up the phone and bothering to try and reconcile this titanic failure of a relationship. Kim is insane. Both literally and figuratively. She has to go to a psychatriast for bipolar disorder and now takes pills to keep her temper and depression fits in check. The author knows this because Dave told him. Dave is also friends with Kim. She sometimes forgets to take the pills, like she sometimes used to forget to take her birth control pills -- to the chegrin of Cal. She sometimes wouldn't tell Cal that she missed a pill. Like the author said, Kim is crazy.
Kim is on the line, "Hello?"
Silence, then, it's her again "Hello?"
"Hey Kim."
"Hey Cal, how are you?"
"I'm fine," silence, "yourself?" Silent exhale.
"I'm good," silence, "I guess."
A long "So," then "what's up?"
"Nothing much, just wanted to see how you were doing," said Kim.
"Well, I'm fine."
"That's good, I guess."
"I've also been wondering how your brother is doing."
"He's alright, still living and working in the city."
"Oh, that's good," oh like she really cares.
What was the point of this conversation? The author did not know.
Just wait, it will happen.
"So I've been thinking," and here it is, "maybe we should hang out some time, you know just as friends," it was hesitant and painful and meak and ignorantly hopeful.
"I'm sorry, Kim, I can't do that."
"I see," thoughtful pause, "so you're still mad at me, then?"
"What do you think?"
"I don't know–"
"Nevermind."
"I just want to understand, Cal!"
"Kim I gotta go."
It was Dave calling on the other line, he was about to turn onto Goodluck st. and pick up the author.
Getting into the car, Cal noticed a strong scent of cologne on Dave. "Where the hell are you coming from?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean why do you smell like you just took a shower in cologne?"
"Oh, yea, I smoked a bowl before and I didn't want the car to stink."
"Right on, you got any pot?"
"Nah, it was a bit of shake I had from the last batch."
"Damn, hold on, let me see what Rasta Jah is up to." He opened his phone and dialed up Rasta Jah.
"Where is this place?"
To Dave, "Just go like you're heading to Paul's place, but turn at the big red brick building on Livingston," then to the phone, "Yo! It's Cal, what's up brother?"
Dave turns and drives towards New Brunswick.
"Nice, nice. You going to be around in an hour?...Awesome...Yeah, OK, I will. Sweet, that's all set up. Let's smoke."
"You got some?"
"Yea, you got that bowl?"
"Umm…yea...hold on." Dave felt around under his seat for it but couldn't come up with it. "I think it might of rolled behind the seat."
"Alright, drive and I'll look for it."
The author leaned behind Dave's seat and patted the floor with his hand feeling around for the glass pipe. It was nowhere to be found. He crawled onto his seat to get a longer reach. He still couldn't find it.
"I don't think it's there man."
"You sure?" Dave reached under to look for it as well.
"Yea, I can't feel it anywhere."
Dave then turned his attention to the door pocket. "Maybe I put it in here." Then, "Yea here it is."
"Pothead."
"My bad, I could of sworn I left it under the seat," then a nervous laugh.
"Ok, it doesn't matter." Cal took the bowl from Dave and started filling it up out of the cigarette plastic pouch that crinkled as he pinched little buds out of it and crushed them into the pipe.
"So is this place any good?"
"I have no idea, I found it on the Rutgers housing site," then the author lit the filled bowl, coughed really loudly and passed it to Dave, "I'm hoping it is because I gotta find a place quick."
Dave pulled a hit and coughed. "Isn't Livingston kinda far from campus?"
"Yea, kinda. I don't really have a choice though because it's so short notice."
"How are you going to get to work and class then?"
"I don't know, probably just take the bus I guess."
"Rutgers busses go that far?"
Cal was coughing from another hit, "No," some more coughing, "the NJ transit bus."
"Shit man, that blows."
"Yea, whatever I guess."
"Well, let's see if you take the place first," then he took a hit again and coughed.
"Exactly," the author wasn't feeling the music on the stereo, "what the fuck are we listening to? Got any Underworld?"
"Yea I think so, hold on," Dave looked up to the sun visor and fingered through the CD's in the case hanging off it and pulled out a blue and white CD, "here it is."
"Thanks," then another hit, "by the way, I really appreciate you giving me a ride, you're a fucking lifesaver."
"Sure no problem man," he took the bowl as Cal was passing it, "least I can do…it sucks that your dad took your car away."
"Yea man, tell me about it." Cal lit a cigarette and puffed on it distressingly. "Fucking dick." The author of these passages looked out the window and stared into space.
"Soo, how much is this place anyway?"
Cal didn't respond.
"Yo, you there? I asked how much is the room in this place?"
Cal snapped out of it, "Oh, sorry, yea it's 375 a month."
"That's not bad."
"Could be worse," puffing on the stoge, "I just hope it's not a shithole."
"Well, it is New Brunswick."
"True, pretty much every place is a shithole, just look at Venkat's place."
Dave cached the bowl and put it away in the door side pocket and lit a cigarette.
"What street is it on again?"
"Talmadge street."
"Talmadge? We are on Talmadge!"
"No not this one, there's another Talmadge in New Brunswick, off Livingston."
"Oh, that's weird."
"Yea I guess, I'll tell you where it is when we're close."
"Ok," a beat, then, "Did you hear Underworld is playing at the Field Day Festival?"
"Really? Shit we should go."
"Yea I really want to."
"How much are tickets?"
"I don't know I have to check."
"Definitely let me know if you find out."
Dave nodded that he will as he puffed on his cigarette.
"I was thinking about going to Berk fest this year. Galactic is playing and I really want to see them, plus it'll be my birthday at that time, should be fun!"
"Really? That'd be awesome, but how are you going to get there?"
"I don't know, I guess I can rent a car or figure something else out…you interested in going?"
"No I can't afford that."
"Really? Didn't Bob give you a raise last month?"
"He did but I don't want to spend the money, I barely have enough as it is."
"But he also increased your hours, I mean I asked him to because of all the projects we have."
"He did but I've been spending a lot on weed and alcohol and shit. I just don't think I can swing it."
"OK well if you change your mind, let me know."
"Yea no doubt."
"So keep going down George st. here."
"OK." Dave was looking around making sure he was going in the right direction, as if he never drove there before when really he's been down this way a million times and almost got arrested a bit further down. "Don't you need to be 25 to rent a car?"
"That's true, fuck! You're right."
"So how are you going to get one?"
"I'll have to think about that. Make a hard right here."
"Do you think your parents will let you rent one?"
"I don't know, probably not, although it is my birthday." The author's eyes lit up with ideas as he started devising a plan to convince his parents to rent a car for him so he can go to Berkfest.
"When is Berkfest anyway?"
"In a few weeks, early to mid August."
"How many days is it?"
"Just 4 days although I'll probably just go for three 'cause I can't take a day off Thursday…I need the money as it is."
"With rent now due and everything..."
"Absolutely," rent is a bitch. "Rent is a bitch."
"Where are you going to stay when you go there?"
"People usually just camp out on the grounds so I figure I can bring a tent and crash on some ski slope."
"SKI slope?!"
"It's at the Ski Butternut mountain."
"Really? Do you even have a tent?"
"Nope, make a left here."
"Ok."
"Worse comes to worse I'll buy one then return it after."
"Can you do that?"
"Yea I don't see why not."
"Just seems like they won't take it back after it gets used."
"I'll just snap the pole and bring it back and say it broke when it got windy." Cal looked to the right to check out the numbers on the houses, "There it is, park here."
Dave parked the car and they threw the cigarette butts out of the window onto the street and Dave turned the car off as Underworld's Cups finished and they stepped out of the car and went up to the front door of 224 Talmadge st. and the author of these passages first tried the doorbell but it seemed broken so he knocked really loud and heard a dog bark in the background then a girl's voice telling it to stop barking and to get away from the door.
Cal looked at Dave, Dave looked back at Cal, then the door opened.
"Hi!"
"Hey," Cal said back, "are you Katie?"
"Yes I am," Katie said, trying really hard to hold back the big dog. Cal stretched out his hand to greet the dog and pet it on the head. "This is Whoopie."
"Hey Whoopie!" It was a yellow labrador mixed with some other breed the author of these passages could never figure out.
"Well, come on in, let me show you the place."
"Sounds good," then pointing to Dave, "by the way, this is my friend Dave."
"Nice to meet you Dave."
"You too," Dave responded.
Katie showed Cal and Dave the house, describing the various features. The house was old and busted which is par for New Brunswick. It was large, had creaky wood floors and walls that desperately need a fresh coat of paint. Regardless of that fact, the available room was perfect. It was big attic room, with sloped walls and an atrociously steep staircase leading up to it. The bathrooms were tiny. The backyard was long, grassy with ample space for interesting opportunities. All it needed was a table and some chairs. Katie said the landlord was planning to build a patio deck later in the summer.
"I'll take it," said Cal. He gave Katie a security deposit check and first month's rent, then left.
"Well, that was quick," said Dave when they got in the car.
"Yea, no reason to waste time," Cal lit a cigarette and exhaled. "I figure it's as good as anything else available plus I don't have time to be picky…and we do have to meet with Rasta Jah still."
"Good point, let's go." Dave drove off towards Rasta Jah's house over on Harvey St. Cal in the meantime called Rasta Jah and told him they were on the way.
At Rasta Jah's house, Cal and Dave came in without knocking and went upstairs. The aroma of marijuana was unmistakable as they climbed the stairs, and when they walked in they encountered a fragrant array of grass laid out on Rasta Jah's coffee table. Rasta Jah was in the process of gutting a Dutchmaster and didn't get up to greet them. He motioned with his eyes for them to take a seat on the couch.
"What's up dude!"
"Nothin' much, Cal," Rasta Jah finished splitting the cigar paper and emptied out the tobacco. "How you been? What up Dave."
"Good man," Cal said
"Chillin, Jah," Dave said. "What have we here?" Dave glanced to the coffee table and picked up a few baggies to take a closer look.
"I just pick't up some rediculous shit, mon."
"Oh yea?"
"Ya mon, ma boy made a special delivery, 4 different kinds of shit. I got some crazy Hawaiian and da Amsterdam shit," then pointing to the blunt, "I'm about to mix all dem into dis blunt."
"Sweet," this pleased Dave.
"Yea man, nothing wrong with a little cocktail blunt action," Cal said, "what's the price on the Hawaiian shit?"
"Sixty for four grams."
"Not bad," Cal says to Dave, "what do you think?"
"Let's try it."
"Tek a look at it," pointing to Dave's left hand, "it's dat hairy shit you got in your hand." Dave poked his nose into the bag to have a smell, then pulled out a green nugget for a look. It was bright green and frosted with crystals. He passed it over to Cal so he can have a look. Cal took it and smelled it and turned it in his hand.
"Smells good to me." Cal laid out three twenty bills on the table. Rasta Jah finished closing the blunt and wrapped up the outside leaf. He was a good roller. He picked up a lighter off the table and lit it under the freshly finished blunt and dried it for a few minutes. Once it was ready, he sparked the end of it and took a few puffs.
In the middle of his cough, he started saying, "I wanna show you dis crazy bud I pulled out." He leaned over behind his chair and grabbed a black duffle bag, opened it and felt inside for a plastic bag. Dave took the blunt out of his hand and smoked from it. Rasta Jah opened the bag and took out a footlong bud that looked like a kabob on a stick. The look and smell of it was instant and extraordinary.
"Damn dude, that is amazing!" Dave was amazed.
"Fuck yea!" Cal agreed.
"I can't stop looking at it!" Rasta Jah handed the bud to Dave as Dave passed the blunt to Cal. "I was like, I can't sell dis!"
"How much does that thing weigh?" Cal was curious.
"I dunno, lemme check." Rasta Jah pulled out an electronic scale from a drawer in the coffee table, took the bud from Dave's hand and rested it on the top of the scale. "Nine grams!"
"Shit dude! I can't believe it's so well intact!" Dave was amazed.
"Let me check it out," Cal stretched his hand out and Rasta Jah handed him the bud. Cal passed the blunt over to Rasta Jah. "This is one beautiful bud, dude."
"Yea mon, respect!"
"So what are you going to do with it? Plant it?" Dave asked.
"Haha, nah mon, gonna hold onto it for little den smoke it!"
They continued smoking the blunt with Bob Marley playing in the background.
"This blunt is awesome! I'm fucking ripped!" Cal commented.
"Yea dude the cocktail blunt idea was brilliant." Dave agreed.
"Yea dude." Cal added.
"I tink I'm gonna keep buying dis much different weed from now on so I got more variety, ya know?"
"That's why you're the best Jah." Dave said.
"Haha tanks, mon. You white boys are my best customers. I don't got problems ever wit you."
"That's cause we pay on time and never fuck you over." Cal noted
"Respect, not like some of my others, dem a pain in my fuckin ass, mon."
"Shit, I'm fucked up!" Cal leaned back in the couch and lit a cigarette. The blunt was a roach by this point and Cal wanted nothing to do with it anymore. "Listen, Jah, I just got a place over off Livingston ave."
"Oh yea? What da fuck you doing in little Mexico?"
"It was cheap and the room is pretty big. It's all good, I'm not that far really."
"That's cool, bro. When you moving der?"
"Soon, probably Saturday or Sunday."
"Oh yea? Well, let me know if you need help."
"Thanks, I might, though should be OK. I'm not really bringing that much stuff."
"So why you moving?"
"Long story, short of it is my dad got mad last Sunday and kicked me out."
"Dat sucks, mon."
"Yea it's alright, probably better this way."
"You're too old to be living wit your parents anyway."
"Yea."
"Ow many roommates you got?"
"Four, I just met one of them today, a girl, her name is Katie."
"Dat's good, is she good lookin?"
"Nah, she's a whale, and has a boyfriend that lives there too. The other two roommates are two girls as well, they're lesbian."
"Shit man, oh well. Dem lezzies, you watch out."
"Yea should be OK. I'm hoping anyway," then, "Yo! Jah, I'm going to Berkfest in a few weeks. Wanna come? You can make a killing there!"
"Tanks, mon. I would but I gotta be here taking care of da business."
"You sure? Fucking killing bro!"
"Ya mon. Too many hippies for me. You're all the white folk I can handle, heh heh heh."
"Alright, figured I'd ask."
"Who's playing dis year?"
"Galactic and M.O.E are headlining. Steve Kimmock and a bunch of others are gonna be playing as well."
"Dat's cool, I like Galactic. No reggae?"
"Probably some but I didn't see anyone big."
"Oh well den."
At that moment, Dave got a call on his cell phone. It was Venkat. He wanted to see if they wanted to chill. Dave and Cal decided why not? Rasta Jah decided not to, other people were going to stop by his place later.
The author of the passages and Dave set off to Venkat's. When they arrived there, they passed a familiar looking black minivan. Cal's heart jumped and stopped for a brief beat. They stepped out of the car and there she was, just as Cal hoped she wouldn't be.
"Hey...Kim." Dave greeted her.
"Hey Dave...hey, Cal."
"Hey," bitch, Cal responded.
"What are you doing here?" She pointed the question to Dave, but directed it through to Cal.
"We were going to meet Venkat here," Dave said.
"I see."
"Where is Venkat?" Cal asked.
"I don't know, he told me to come over but when I did he wasn't home."
Cal took out his cell phone and called Venkat.
"Yea man," Venkat picked up. It was noisy on Venkat's side.
"What's up, Venkat. We just go to your place, we thought you were here."
"Oh, you there already? Yea man, I'm on the bus coming back." Venkat was shouting somewhat. "I should be there soon, dude."
"Ok, I guess til then."
"Yea man."
Cal put away the phone and said, "He's on the bus coming back, should be here soon."
Cal sat down in a chair and lit a cigarette. Dave sat down between Kim and Cal and lit as cigarette as well. Kim then lit a cigarette too.
"So what did you guys do today?" Kim inquired.
"We went to check out a - I mean, check out some new buds. Found some nice Hawaiian shit," Dave said.
"Nice, let me see."
Cal took out the baggy from his pocket and passed it to Dave. Dave passed it along to Kim.
Kim took it and unrolled it. Then she opened it up and had a sniff to smell it. Then she pulled out a small bud and took a long look at it. She put it back while saying, "Very nice, have you tried it yet?"
"Yea, just smoked a blunt before," Dave said. "It's good shit."
"Sweet. I got some goodies as well."
"Oh yea? What did you bring?" Dave asked.
"I got this Malaysian hash from my friend Simi." She dug her hand into her purse and pulled out small plastic wrapped bag with a brown winget of hash inside. Carefully she unwrapped it and took out a chunk and passed it to Dave.
Dave pinched at it and smelled it and worked it with his fingers some more. It was soft and pliable but breakable if bent far enough. Didn't smell like much but left a tar residue on your fingers after handling it. It looked really good.
"That's awesome!" Dave exclaimed. "I can't wait to try it!"
"Who said I was gonna let you guys smoke it!" Kim laughed. "I'm just kidding, just kidding." It was an awkward laugh, like a game show host forcing a joke on an unwilling contestant.
Dave passed the hash to Cal during the awkward silence that followed. Cal looked at it with great interest. He never saw Malaysian hash before. He was curious to try it.
"Nice." Cal passed it back to Dave. The author of these passages now realized the cruel joke in this. The hash was tempting, the person who's providing it is the very last person he'd want to smoke it with. Two years ago it was different -- Kim would be the first person he'd want to smoke with -- and that person is just a ghostly counterpart of the living Kim sitting near him at the moment.
"Hey listen, I'm gonna go to Skinny Vinny's and get some grub. Anyone want anything?"
"Ok...umm, yea, can you get me something kiwi strawberry?" Dave shuffled through his pockets for some bills.
"That's alright, I got it. Kim you want anything?" Cal asked forcefully.
"No thanks. I'm good."
"Ok." Cal walked off the porch and went down the street towards Skinny Vinny's. Five minutes later, Cal walked back toward Venkat's because his wallet wasn't in his pocket. When he got to the house he saw the wallet lying on the porch near the chair. It must of fell out of his pocket. He walked over and up the steps and said, "I forgot my wallet - " not realizing that Dave and Kim weren't there.
He looked around and didn't see them anywhere. He looked towards Dave's car but nobody was inside. He looked towards Kim's car and nobody was inside it either. He shrugged to himself wondering what happened to them. It's only been five minutes.
He walked back towards Skinny Vinny's. Spur of the moment, he decided to cross the street. He wanted to walk past Kim's car and look inside. He remember that she used to always keep a cougar stuffed animal on her dashboard and for some reason he wanted to see it again. As he walked by, he noticed something in the back seat of the van. A head of hair bobbed up for a quick second, Cal recognized it as Kim's. He carefully peered inside and saw that she was laying on top of Dave and they were hooking. Cal didn't look too long - he didn't want to be noticed. He took a step back almost in a stumble then walked off, that image of them hooking up was enough and he didn't want to see anymore. He stepped away towards the pizzaria. His movement quickened as he got away from that black minivan. He was mad but didn't know it. He was shocked and knew it more.
At Skinny Vinny's he picked up the two slices and two bottles of water and a bottle of Pink Lemonade for Dave. He decided to eat the slices in the pizza shop rather than taking them back. He had only 1 slice and decided to get the other slice wrapped up to go.
At first, rage envoloped his mind but he quickly relaxed and subsided into calm. The kind of calm only pure anger can generate. Most men would blow up and react out of control but the author of these passages is different and when truly angry he becomes quiet and distant.
He walked out of Skinny Vinny's, then back to Venkat's porch to wait. Venkat finally arrived - Dave and Kim were still gone.
"Hey man!" Venkat greeted Cal.
"What's up dude?" replied Cal.
"Not much, man." Venkat smiled then shook Cal's hand then leaned back on the porch rail and lit a cigarette.
"What did you today?"
"Just went to class, then ate lunch with my friend Jonesy, dude."
"Nice," then, "who's Jonesy?"
"He's a friend of mine from class," he took a drag, "you don't know him because he's from Middlesex." Venkat continued smoking his cigarette, then reflected, then asked, "where is Dave?"
"I'm not sure, I came here with him then went to get some pizza at Skinny Vinny's and when I came back he was gone."
"Oh, that's cool, did you see Kim here?"
"Yea she was waiting here for you as well - I don't know where she went either. Maybe they went somewhere to get cigarettes or something."
"Oh OK, that's cool."
"Let's go to the back so we can smoke."
"OK, man, let's go."
They went through the house and out the back door to the deck. Cal felt through his pockets then realized Dave was holding the weed. He turned to Venkat and asked if he had any pot. Venkat then went inside to fetch it. On the way in, Cal called out to him and asked him to grab the bowl as well.
Venkat came out a few minutes later with a bowl and a plastic baggy and handed it to Cal. Cal took the bowl and set it aside. Inside the bag, he grabbed a nugget and started breaking up the weed. He filled it and began smoking out of it. He leaned back to exhale, up towards the sky - calm as an eye in a hurricane.
Sensing something was wrong, Venkat asked, "What's the matter, dude?"
"I don't know," then, "it doesn't really matter anyway." Cal passed the bowl to Venkat. "I got a new place today, I'm moving in on Saturday."
"Nice dude," he took a hit on the bowl, "where is it?"
"Little Mexico, off Livingston Ave."
"That's cool man."
"Yea, you gotta come visit me when I'm moved in."
"I will." He coughed then passed the bowl over to Cal.
Cal took another hit and lay back against the deck railing. He passed the bowl and lit a cigarette. They quietly sat and smoked. Venkat went inside again to get his laptop and came back out and put on some Led Zeppelin, No Quarter. They listened to the music not saying much.
Dave and Kim walked through the back door. "Hey what's up Venkat!" Kim said.
"Hey man!" Dave greeted.
"Wassup guys!" said Venkat.
Cal nodded at both of them, but only looked in the direction of Dave. If he looked at Kim, he knew she was see his disgust and he didn't want to expose it.
"The bowl is still going, do you want a hit?"
"Sure," said Kim. "Hey I brought some hash, we should smoke it!"
"Oh yea?" Venkat got excited. "That's awesome, Kim. Yea let's smoke it when we fill the next bowl."
"OK," she took out the winget and passed it to Dave. Dave's shifty eyes passed around the group, pausing momentarily at Cal then over to his hand. After making the handoff to Dave, she closed her canvas surplus army purse and slid up closer to Cal and quietly whispered, "Hey, are you still mad at me?"
"Hey, are you still mad at me?" It was Kim saying it in her little voice, timid and afraid of the response, with a cadence of interest.
"I don't know, Kim." The author of these passages responded. "Honestly, I really don't know." Then, "Actually, Yes. I am still mad." It's not that Cal was actually mad at Kim, in fact, it was opposite, he wasn't really mad at all...anymore. He was way past mad. It stretched out so far, it went into the territory of apathy. "I'm sorry, I can't talk about this anymore, bye."
Apathy for a person who he spent countless hours talking to, discussing anything and everything and the world seemed completely possible with Kim and now he's completely apathetic and could care less if she dropped dead right now. If he got a call tomorrow from Dave and found out Kim killed herself, Cal would just think about the fact that Kim won't call him anymore and that this idea pleased him. Though it's not that Cal ACTUALLY wishes or wants Kim to die. He could care less either way.
Here comes another call. So he picks up the phone because he can't not pick it up and he tries to keep it civil but always comes back to Kim wondering if the author was still mad at her. This time, for a split second, he wanted to be honest with her - truly honest like he was when they began dating - then reason set his mind onto the fact that honesty doesn't work with Kim because she has the uncanny ability to twist anything you say into a pretzel and physically throw it back at you...even over the phone. Kim was crazy. Kim IS crazy. Cal is an idiot for even bothering to pick up the phone and bothering to try and reconcile this titanic failure of a relationship. Kim is insane. Both literally and figuratively. She has to go to a psychatriast for bipolar disorder and now takes pills to keep her temper and depression fits in check. The author knows this because Dave told him. Dave is also friends with Kim. She sometimes forgets to take the pills, like she sometimes used to forget to take her birth control pills -- to the chegrin of Cal. She sometimes wouldn't tell Cal that she missed a pill. Like the author said, Kim is crazy.
Kim is on the line, "Hello?"
Silence, then, it's her again "Hello?"
"Hey Kim."
"Hey Cal, how are you?"
"I'm fine," silence, "yourself?" Silent exhale.
"I'm good," silence, "I guess."
A long "So," then "what's up?"
"Nothing much, just wanted to see how you were doing," said Kim.
"Well, I'm fine."
"That's good, I guess."
"I've also been wondering how your brother is doing."
"He's alright, still living and working in the city."
"Oh, that's good," oh like she really cares.
What was the point of this conversation? The author did not know.
Just wait, it will happen.
"So I've been thinking," and here it is, "maybe we should hang out some time, you know just as friends," it was hesitant and painful and meak and ignorantly hopeful.
"I'm sorry, Kim, I can't do that."
"I see," thoughtful pause, "so you're still mad at me, then?"
"What do you think?"
"I don't know–"
"Nevermind."
"I just want to understand, Cal!"
"Kim I gotta go."
It was Dave calling on the other line, he was about to turn onto Goodluck st. and pick up the author.
Getting into the car, Cal noticed a strong scent of cologne on Dave. "Where the hell are you coming from?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean why do you smell like you just took a shower in cologne?"
"Oh, yea, I smoked a bowl before and I didn't want the car to stink."
"Right on, you got any pot?"
"Nah, it was a bit of shake I had from the last batch."
"Damn, hold on, let me see what Rasta Jah is up to." He opened his phone and dialed up Rasta Jah.
"Where is this place?"
To Dave, "Just go like you're heading to Paul's place, but turn at the big red brick building on Livingston," then to the phone, "Yo! It's Cal, what's up brother?"
Dave turns and drives towards New Brunswick.
"Nice, nice. You going to be around in an hour?...Awesome...Yeah, OK, I will. Sweet, that's all set up. Let's smoke."
"You got some?"
"Yea, you got that bowl?"
"Umm…yea...hold on." Dave felt around under his seat for it but couldn't come up with it. "I think it might of rolled behind the seat."
"Alright, drive and I'll look for it."
The author leaned behind Dave's seat and patted the floor with his hand feeling around for the glass pipe. It was nowhere to be found. He crawled onto his seat to get a longer reach. He still couldn't find it.
"I don't think it's there man."
"You sure?" Dave reached under to look for it as well.
"Yea, I can't feel it anywhere."
Dave then turned his attention to the door pocket. "Maybe I put it in here." Then, "Yea here it is."
"Pothead."
"My bad, I could of sworn I left it under the seat," then a nervous laugh.
"Ok, it doesn't matter." Cal took the bowl from Dave and started filling it up out of the cigarette plastic pouch that crinkled as he pinched little buds out of it and crushed them into the pipe.
"So is this place any good?"
"I have no idea, I found it on the Rutgers housing site," then the author lit the filled bowl, coughed really loudly and passed it to Dave, "I'm hoping it is because I gotta find a place quick."
Dave pulled a hit and coughed. "Isn't Livingston kinda far from campus?"
"Yea, kinda. I don't really have a choice though because it's so short notice."
"How are you going to get to work and class then?"
"I don't know, probably just take the bus I guess."
"Rutgers busses go that far?"
Cal was coughing from another hit, "No," some more coughing, "the NJ transit bus."
"Shit man, that blows."
"Yea, whatever I guess."
"Well, let's see if you take the place first," then he took a hit again and coughed.
"Exactly," the author wasn't feeling the music on the stereo, "what the fuck are we listening to? Got any Underworld?"
"Yea I think so, hold on," Dave looked up to the sun visor and fingered through the CD's in the case hanging off it and pulled out a blue and white CD, "here it is."
"Thanks," then another hit, "by the way, I really appreciate you giving me a ride, you're a fucking lifesaver."
"Sure no problem man," he took the bowl as Cal was passing it, "least I can do…it sucks that your dad took your car away."
"Yea man, tell me about it." Cal lit a cigarette and puffed on it distressingly. "Fucking dick." The author of these passages looked out the window and stared into space.
"Soo, how much is this place anyway?"
Cal didn't respond.
"Yo, you there? I asked how much is the room in this place?"
Cal snapped out of it, "Oh, sorry, yea it's 375 a month."
"That's not bad."
"Could be worse," puffing on the stoge, "I just hope it's not a shithole."
"Well, it is New Brunswick."
"True, pretty much every place is a shithole, just look at Venkat's place."
Dave cached the bowl and put it away in the door side pocket and lit a cigarette.
"What street is it on again?"
"Talmadge street."
"Talmadge? We are on Talmadge!"
"No not this one, there's another Talmadge in New Brunswick, off Livingston."
"Oh, that's weird."
"Yea I guess, I'll tell you where it is when we're close."
"Ok," a beat, then, "Did you hear Underworld is playing at the Field Day Festival?"
"Really? Shit we should go."
"Yea I really want to."
"How much are tickets?"
"I don't know I have to check."
"Definitely let me know if you find out."
Dave nodded that he will as he puffed on his cigarette.
"I was thinking about going to Berk fest this year. Galactic is playing and I really want to see them, plus it'll be my birthday at that time, should be fun!"
"Really? That'd be awesome, but how are you going to get there?"
"I don't know, I guess I can rent a car or figure something else out…you interested in going?"
"No I can't afford that."
"Really? Didn't Bob give you a raise last month?"
"He did but I don't want to spend the money, I barely have enough as it is."
"But he also increased your hours, I mean I asked him to because of all the projects we have."
"He did but I've been spending a lot on weed and alcohol and shit. I just don't think I can swing it."
"OK well if you change your mind, let me know."
"Yea no doubt."
"So keep going down George st. here."
"OK." Dave was looking around making sure he was going in the right direction, as if he never drove there before when really he's been down this way a million times and almost got arrested a bit further down. "Don't you need to be 25 to rent a car?"
"That's true, fuck! You're right."
"So how are you going to get one?"
"I'll have to think about that. Make a hard right here."
"Do you think your parents will let you rent one?"
"I don't know, probably not, although it is my birthday." The author's eyes lit up with ideas as he started devising a plan to convince his parents to rent a car for him so he can go to Berkfest.
"When is Berkfest anyway?"
"In a few weeks, early to mid August."
"How many days is it?"
"Just 4 days although I'll probably just go for three 'cause I can't take a day off Thursday…I need the money as it is."
"With rent now due and everything..."
"Absolutely," rent is a bitch. "Rent is a bitch."
"Where are you going to stay when you go there?"
"People usually just camp out on the grounds so I figure I can bring a tent and crash on some ski slope."
"SKI slope?!"
"It's at the Ski Butternut mountain."
"Really? Do you even have a tent?"
"Nope, make a left here."
"Ok."
"Worse comes to worse I'll buy one then return it after."
"Can you do that?"
"Yea I don't see why not."
"Just seems like they won't take it back after it gets used."
"I'll just snap the pole and bring it back and say it broke when it got windy." Cal looked to the right to check out the numbers on the houses, "There it is, park here."
Dave parked the car and they threw the cigarette butts out of the window onto the street and Dave turned the car off as Underworld's Cups finished and they stepped out of the car and went up to the front door of 224 Talmadge st. and the author of these passages first tried the doorbell but it seemed broken so he knocked really loud and heard a dog bark in the background then a girl's voice telling it to stop barking and to get away from the door.
Cal looked at Dave, Dave looked back at Cal, then the door opened.
"Hi!"
"Hey," Cal said back, "are you Katie?"
"Yes I am," Katie said, trying really hard to hold back the big dog. Cal stretched out his hand to greet the dog and pet it on the head. "This is Whoopie."
"Hey Whoopie!" It was a yellow labrador mixed with some other breed the author of these passages could never figure out.
"Well, come on in, let me show you the place."
"Sounds good," then pointing to Dave, "by the way, this is my friend Dave."
"Nice to meet you Dave."
"You too," Dave responded.
Katie showed Cal and Dave the house, describing the various features. The house was old and busted which is par for New Brunswick. It was large, had creaky wood floors and walls that desperately need a fresh coat of paint. Regardless of that fact, the available room was perfect. It was big attic room, with sloped walls and an atrociously steep staircase leading up to it. The bathrooms were tiny. The backyard was long, grassy with ample space for interesting opportunities. All it needed was a table and some chairs. Katie said the landlord was planning to build a patio deck later in the summer.
"I'll take it," said Cal. He gave Katie a security deposit check and first month's rent, then left.
"Well, that was quick," said Dave when they got in the car.
"Yea, no reason to waste time," Cal lit a cigarette and exhaled. "I figure it's as good as anything else available plus I don't have time to be picky…and we do have to meet with Rasta Jah still."
"Good point, let's go." Dave drove off towards Rasta Jah's house over on Harvey St. Cal in the meantime called Rasta Jah and told him they were on the way.
At Rasta Jah's house, Cal and Dave came in without knocking and went upstairs. The aroma of marijuana was unmistakable as they climbed the stairs, and when they walked in they encountered a fragrant array of grass laid out on Rasta Jah's coffee table. Rasta Jah was in the process of gutting a Dutchmaster and didn't get up to greet them. He motioned with his eyes for them to take a seat on the couch.
"What's up dude!"
"Nothin' much, Cal," Rasta Jah finished splitting the cigar paper and emptied out the tobacco. "How you been? What up Dave."
"Good man," Cal said
"Chillin, Jah," Dave said. "What have we here?" Dave glanced to the coffee table and picked up a few baggies to take a closer look.
"I just pick't up some rediculous shit, mon."
"Oh yea?"
"Ya mon, ma boy made a special delivery, 4 different kinds of shit. I got some crazy Hawaiian and da Amsterdam shit," then pointing to the blunt, "I'm about to mix all dem into dis blunt."
"Sweet," this pleased Dave.
"Yea man, nothing wrong with a little cocktail blunt action," Cal said, "what's the price on the Hawaiian shit?"
"Sixty for four grams."
"Not bad," Cal says to Dave, "what do you think?"
"Let's try it."
"Tek a look at it," pointing to Dave's left hand, "it's dat hairy shit you got in your hand." Dave poked his nose into the bag to have a smell, then pulled out a green nugget for a look. It was bright green and frosted with crystals. He passed it over to Cal so he can have a look. Cal took it and smelled it and turned it in his hand.
"Smells good to me." Cal laid out three twenty bills on the table. Rasta Jah finished closing the blunt and wrapped up the outside leaf. He was a good roller. He picked up a lighter off the table and lit it under the freshly finished blunt and dried it for a few minutes. Once it was ready, he sparked the end of it and took a few puffs.
In the middle of his cough, he started saying, "I wanna show you dis crazy bud I pulled out." He leaned over behind his chair and grabbed a black duffle bag, opened it and felt inside for a plastic bag. Dave took the blunt out of his hand and smoked from it. Rasta Jah opened the bag and took out a footlong bud that looked like a kabob on a stick. The look and smell of it was instant and extraordinary.
"Damn dude, that is amazing!" Dave was amazed.
"Fuck yea!" Cal agreed.
"I can't stop looking at it!" Rasta Jah handed the bud to Dave as Dave passed the blunt to Cal. "I was like, I can't sell dis!"
"How much does that thing weigh?" Cal was curious.
"I dunno, lemme check." Rasta Jah pulled out an electronic scale from a drawer in the coffee table, took the bud from Dave's hand and rested it on the top of the scale. "Nine grams!"
"Shit dude! I can't believe it's so well intact!" Dave was amazed.
"Let me check it out," Cal stretched his hand out and Rasta Jah handed him the bud. Cal passed the blunt over to Rasta Jah. "This is one beautiful bud, dude."
"Yea mon, respect!"
"So what are you going to do with it? Plant it?" Dave asked.
"Haha, nah mon, gonna hold onto it for little den smoke it!"
They continued smoking the blunt with Bob Marley playing in the background.
"This blunt is awesome! I'm fucking ripped!" Cal commented.
"Yea dude the cocktail blunt idea was brilliant." Dave agreed.
"Yea dude." Cal added.
"I tink I'm gonna keep buying dis much different weed from now on so I got more variety, ya know?"
"That's why you're the best Jah." Dave said.
"Haha tanks, mon. You white boys are my best customers. I don't got problems ever wit you."
"That's cause we pay on time and never fuck you over." Cal noted
"Respect, not like some of my others, dem a pain in my fuckin ass, mon."
"Shit, I'm fucked up!" Cal leaned back in the couch and lit a cigarette. The blunt was a roach by this point and Cal wanted nothing to do with it anymore. "Listen, Jah, I just got a place over off Livingston ave."
"Oh yea? What da fuck you doing in little Mexico?"
"It was cheap and the room is pretty big. It's all good, I'm not that far really."
"That's cool, bro. When you moving der?"
"Soon, probably Saturday or Sunday."
"Oh yea? Well, let me know if you need help."
"Thanks, I might, though should be OK. I'm not really bringing that much stuff."
"So why you moving?"
"Long story, short of it is my dad got mad last Sunday and kicked me out."
"Dat sucks, mon."
"Yea it's alright, probably better this way."
"You're too old to be living wit your parents anyway."
"Yea."
"Ow many roommates you got?"
"Four, I just met one of them today, a girl, her name is Katie."
"Dat's good, is she good lookin?"
"Nah, she's a whale, and has a boyfriend that lives there too. The other two roommates are two girls as well, they're lesbian."
"Shit man, oh well. Dem lezzies, you watch out."
"Yea should be OK. I'm hoping anyway," then, "Yo! Jah, I'm going to Berkfest in a few weeks. Wanna come? You can make a killing there!"
"Tanks, mon. I would but I gotta be here taking care of da business."
"You sure? Fucking killing bro!"
"Ya mon. Too many hippies for me. You're all the white folk I can handle, heh heh heh."
"Alright, figured I'd ask."
"Who's playing dis year?"
"Galactic and M.O.E are headlining. Steve Kimmock and a bunch of others are gonna be playing as well."
"Dat's cool, I like Galactic. No reggae?"
"Probably some but I didn't see anyone big."
"Oh well den."
At that moment, Dave got a call on his cell phone. It was Venkat. He wanted to see if they wanted to chill. Dave and Cal decided why not? Rasta Jah decided not to, other people were going to stop by his place later.
The author of the passages and Dave set off to Venkat's. When they arrived there, they passed a familiar looking black minivan. Cal's heart jumped and stopped for a brief beat. They stepped out of the car and there she was, just as Cal hoped she wouldn't be.
"Hey...Kim." Dave greeted her.
"Hey Dave...hey, Cal."
"Hey," bitch, Cal responded.
"What are you doing here?" She pointed the question to Dave, but directed it through to Cal.
"We were going to meet Venkat here," Dave said.
"I see."
"Where is Venkat?" Cal asked.
"I don't know, he told me to come over but when I did he wasn't home."
Cal took out his cell phone and called Venkat.
"Yea man," Venkat picked up. It was noisy on Venkat's side.
"What's up, Venkat. We just go to your place, we thought you were here."
"Oh, you there already? Yea man, I'm on the bus coming back." Venkat was shouting somewhat. "I should be there soon, dude."
"Ok, I guess til then."
"Yea man."
Cal put away the phone and said, "He's on the bus coming back, should be here soon."
Cal sat down in a chair and lit a cigarette. Dave sat down between Kim and Cal and lit as cigarette as well. Kim then lit a cigarette too.
"So what did you guys do today?" Kim inquired.
"We went to check out a - I mean, check out some new buds. Found some nice Hawaiian shit," Dave said.
"Nice, let me see."
Cal took out the baggy from his pocket and passed it to Dave. Dave passed it along to Kim.
Kim took it and unrolled it. Then she opened it up and had a sniff to smell it. Then she pulled out a small bud and took a long look at it. She put it back while saying, "Very nice, have you tried it yet?"
"Yea, just smoked a blunt before," Dave said. "It's good shit."
"Sweet. I got some goodies as well."
"Oh yea? What did you bring?" Dave asked.
"I got this Malaysian hash from my friend Simi." She dug her hand into her purse and pulled out small plastic wrapped bag with a brown winget of hash inside. Carefully she unwrapped it and took out a chunk and passed it to Dave.
Dave pinched at it and smelled it and worked it with his fingers some more. It was soft and pliable but breakable if bent far enough. Didn't smell like much but left a tar residue on your fingers after handling it. It looked really good.
"That's awesome!" Dave exclaimed. "I can't wait to try it!"
"Who said I was gonna let you guys smoke it!" Kim laughed. "I'm just kidding, just kidding." It was an awkward laugh, like a game show host forcing a joke on an unwilling contestant.
Dave passed the hash to Cal during the awkward silence that followed. Cal looked at it with great interest. He never saw Malaysian hash before. He was curious to try it.
"Nice." Cal passed it back to Dave. The author of these passages now realized the cruel joke in this. The hash was tempting, the person who's providing it is the very last person he'd want to smoke it with. Two years ago it was different -- Kim would be the first person he'd want to smoke with -- and that person is just a ghostly counterpart of the living Kim sitting near him at the moment.
"Hey listen, I'm gonna go to Skinny Vinny's and get some grub. Anyone want anything?"
"Ok...umm, yea, can you get me something kiwi strawberry?" Dave shuffled through his pockets for some bills.
"That's alright, I got it. Kim you want anything?" Cal asked forcefully.
"No thanks. I'm good."
"Ok." Cal walked off the porch and went down the street towards Skinny Vinny's. Five minutes later, Cal walked back toward Venkat's because his wallet wasn't in his pocket. When he got to the house he saw the wallet lying on the porch near the chair. It must of fell out of his pocket. He walked over and up the steps and said, "I forgot my wallet - " not realizing that Dave and Kim weren't there.
He looked around and didn't see them anywhere. He looked towards Dave's car but nobody was inside. He looked towards Kim's car and nobody was inside it either. He shrugged to himself wondering what happened to them. It's only been five minutes.
He walked back towards Skinny Vinny's. Spur of the moment, he decided to cross the street. He wanted to walk past Kim's car and look inside. He remember that she used to always keep a cougar stuffed animal on her dashboard and for some reason he wanted to see it again. As he walked by, he noticed something in the back seat of the van. A head of hair bobbed up for a quick second, Cal recognized it as Kim's. He carefully peered inside and saw that she was laying on top of Dave and they were hooking. Cal didn't look too long - he didn't want to be noticed. He took a step back almost in a stumble then walked off, that image of them hooking up was enough and he didn't want to see anymore. He stepped away towards the pizzaria. His movement quickened as he got away from that black minivan. He was mad but didn't know it. He was shocked and knew it more.
At Skinny Vinny's he picked up the two slices and two bottles of water and a bottle of Pink Lemonade for Dave. He decided to eat the slices in the pizza shop rather than taking them back. He had only 1 slice and decided to get the other slice wrapped up to go.
At first, rage envoloped his mind but he quickly relaxed and subsided into calm. The kind of calm only pure anger can generate. Most men would blow up and react out of control but the author of these passages is different and when truly angry he becomes quiet and distant.
He walked out of Skinny Vinny's, then back to Venkat's porch to wait. Venkat finally arrived - Dave and Kim were still gone.
"Hey man!" Venkat greeted Cal.
"What's up dude?" replied Cal.
"Not much, man." Venkat smiled then shook Cal's hand then leaned back on the porch rail and lit a cigarette.
"What did you today?"
"Just went to class, then ate lunch with my friend Jonesy, dude."
"Nice," then, "who's Jonesy?"
"He's a friend of mine from class," he took a drag, "you don't know him because he's from Middlesex." Venkat continued smoking his cigarette, then reflected, then asked, "where is Dave?"
"I'm not sure, I came here with him then went to get some pizza at Skinny Vinny's and when I came back he was gone."
"Oh, that's cool, did you see Kim here?"
"Yea she was waiting here for you as well - I don't know where she went either. Maybe they went somewhere to get cigarettes or something."
"Oh OK, that's cool."
"Let's go to the back so we can smoke."
"OK, man, let's go."
They went through the house and out the back door to the deck. Cal felt through his pockets then realized Dave was holding the weed. He turned to Venkat and asked if he had any pot. Venkat then went inside to fetch it. On the way in, Cal called out to him and asked him to grab the bowl as well.
Venkat came out a few minutes later with a bowl and a plastic baggy and handed it to Cal. Cal took the bowl and set it aside. Inside the bag, he grabbed a nugget and started breaking up the weed. He filled it and began smoking out of it. He leaned back to exhale, up towards the sky - calm as an eye in a hurricane.
Sensing something was wrong, Venkat asked, "What's the matter, dude?"
"I don't know," then, "it doesn't really matter anyway." Cal passed the bowl to Venkat. "I got a new place today, I'm moving in on Saturday."
"Nice dude," he took a hit on the bowl, "where is it?"
"Little Mexico, off Livingston Ave."
"That's cool man."
"Yea, you gotta come visit me when I'm moved in."
"I will." He coughed then passed the bowl over to Cal.
Cal took another hit and lay back against the deck railing. He passed the bowl and lit a cigarette. They quietly sat and smoked. Venkat went inside again to get his laptop and came back out and put on some Led Zeppelin, No Quarter. They listened to the music not saying much.
Dave and Kim walked through the back door. "Hey what's up Venkat!" Kim said.
"Hey man!" Dave greeted.
"Wassup guys!" said Venkat.
Cal nodded at both of them, but only looked in the direction of Dave. If he looked at Kim, he knew she was see his disgust and he didn't want to expose it.
"The bowl is still going, do you want a hit?"
"Sure," said Kim. "Hey I brought some hash, we should smoke it!"
"Oh yea?" Venkat got excited. "That's awesome, Kim. Yea let's smoke it when we fill the next bowl."
"OK," she took out the winget and passed it to Dave. Dave's shifty eyes passed around the group, pausing momentarily at Cal then over to his hand. After making the handoff to Dave, she closed her canvas surplus army purse and slid up closer to Cal and quietly whispered, "Hey, are you still mad at me?"
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
time deprived
I have time in one hand, sand in the other - I can't hold onto either and just end up with grains between wrinkles.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)