A man is laying flat on his back with half a cigarette burning in his hand staring straight up watching the shadows from headlights dance across his ceiling. His eyes moving sightless across following the arcing movements as he talks to himself in a low vacant tone. The narration starts slowly almost haphazardly but then picks momentum as if he is explaining the story of his own life to an unseen audience.
One thing that you learn in life is that you end up running down many dark corridors throughout your life. And if you are lucky, you come out the other end. The funny thing about optimism being that those that chase dreams for a living never seem to want to stop no matter what. Maybe some think that they are motivated from birth to be alpha types that don’t know any better? But then there is another theory that runs along the lines that they are afraid that if they stop then they won’t know what to do with themselves!
As he continues to speak a montage of shadowy mental images form from mist and then come into view. Each transitioning from scene to scene shifting as he continues his narration.
It was another of those unexpectedly sexually charged episode where you think that it is going to go somewhere. Somewhere extraordinary. Somewhere great! This time in a courtyard building that was about three or four stories tall. He was on one side of the court and a random silhouette in the window across on the other. An occasional glint of light behind the figure darting back and forth suggesting that it was one of two that was somehow auto-eroticizing? Who knew exactly what they were doing. Suddenly the other shadow realized he was also being watched from exactly that same opposite apartment right across the way. Something like getting caught sucking your thumb or masturbating in public? Embarrassing, to say the least! I don’t know? The second starts sinking down, sliding down, trying not to be noticed. So now it’s harder and harder to see them from the other vantage point. Who at that point could remember exactly what was going on! But it was as if one was under surveillance from someone that they were jealous of. Or maybe scared of! Maybe somebody was cheating on somebody else? Who really knew what was going on! But whatever it was, it was weird!
At one point, I recall laying there under the covers of a double mattress in the middle of the room. She’s walking around the darkened room doing things. A lithe shadowy figure arranging nondescript things here and there circling around the head of the bed. She’s not dressed but I am. A large low platform to my right with a bunch of architectural model-like things on top of it just at eye level. Here I am a stranger, thinking to myself, “What gave me the right and the courage?” The temerity! To be under those covers like that? And then, musing on for what seemed like an hour or two, all three of us are there on the bed. And she’s next to me! He’s laying there just on the other side of her his bulk barely in sight. And I’m looking at his shadow in a daze. I start asking him questions about his dioramas and what he does and routinely inquire about his struggles as if I’m dispassionately conducting an interview. Nothing! He doesn’t move an inch or make a peep. And I am having a hard time making a question sound like a question. Like I even know what’s going on. Because now I’m enthralled with her. The room is heating up. In the back of my mind, as I go on talking gibberish, she is there. I want her so bad. So damn bad! That’s what I came over for. But looking over to my right on the other side I’m looking at all this stuff of his. This one big diorama in particular. This rock canyon with all these different kinds of fragments of painted plaster rock and tiny man-made earth moving equipment. It’s a marvel of miniaturization that looks like the real thing and I’m impressed with it’s detail and everything.
And she’s next to me now! I feel how warm she is. And I can feel her body. And I haven’t even touched it yet! And I am thinking to myself, “My God!” I have no pants on. Nothing underneath. And what if the other ‘he’ finds out? What’s he going to do, Kill Me? How do I get out of here? And part of me says, “You ain’t going to get out of here! You got to choose, man!” And then she suddenly puts her leg over my leg. It’s running from the calf dragging up over thigh to thigh and it starts pulling me towards her. And my arm slips around her back and down her spine. And now we’re on top of each other. Her mouth finds mine and my mouth is hard on her’s. The friction creating fire and sparks like the surface of a cauldron of molten steel. And I’m burning inside now. I feel the heat rising out of the two of us.
But in the back of my mind in some tiny corner I’m thinking about that guy in the corner on the other side. What happened to him? How could he let this happen to him! But I don’t care now because I’m committed. My dick is going to be in his wife and I don’t give a shit! All I’ll do is fuck her and make love to her. And that’s all she wants to do with me. My God is it hot!
I was staying over at a friend’s house in a room in the front that had a couple of beds. It wasn’t very posh. Just a neighborhood kind of place. Some place far from where my family and I had once lived decades back. All of a sudden my father walks in and he was really old. He walks in and you can tell he is really bone tired. He goes the other bed and lays down. He is just really really whipped out. He takes off his coat and I get up and say, “Are you OK?” I’m afraid he has really kind of had it. He might just die right there! And I was going to leave and well, because maybe I shouldn’t have been there, maybe I should have been home with my mother? I don’t know. I can’t just leave him there. And I can’t disturb him. I’m not sure he’s going to make it. He’s so wiped out. I said let me get up and get you a blanket or something. I look over at the coat and it’s definitely my mother’s. It’s a woman’s coat! And he’s just laying there, he’s wiped out like he came from a couple day card playing session. And eh . . .? I lay back down in the other bed next to him really upset still really kind of feeling like what should I do? And I start thinking that maybe it’s a good time to talk to him even though you can’t talk to him because he’s asleep? He’s wiped out. He’s gone! I keep thinking about all the kind of stuff I could talk to him about. I start asking questions about, just out loud . . . and of course he doesn’t answer them. But, he’s there! He once was. He’s dead. They’ve both been dead for more than a decade.
The man lies there on his back now silent, his eyes awake, continuing to stare at the ceiling. The cigarette in his fingers barely glowing, smouldering away.