Wednesday, July 21, 2010

Under The Same Dark Sky

.




























for the youwillsoon blog




Jason unlocked the door and stepped onto yesterday's mail. Banjo was asleep on the couch and Jas stumbled around his quadrant apartment, trying his best to find the soft key lighting that wouldn't agitate the amplified mood of the cocaine crash.



Jason fingered around and finally switched on the tiki lamp. The lamp was on a table made from a white unwaxed Rusty surfboard lain on some mini faux New York saw horses- the same saw horses that Jason stole from the Metropolitan Wheels trade show booth, years ago.


The base of the lamp glowed with painted illustrations depicting Hawaii sometime in the Forties or fifties. The quaint tableaux rotated behind the translucent Tiki Head- illuminating Heather's old stripped cloth that it sat on.


It was hours past bedtime and Jason badly needed to cut his loses.


Even though it was already Friday morning in Los Angeles -the most relaxed work day in the most relaxed work city- Jason still needed to get himself together somehow. It wouldn't hurt if he did a quick load of laundry, but he knew he still had that half gram load that Sigourney had graciously or ungraciously allocated for him.



The false promise of the coke would eventually further illustrate itself with the hot, dull, limp buzz futility kept alive by a halfdozen water bumps, but for now Jason was still sitting on a little white.


Barely waking up Banjo, Jason picked him up and carried him into the Bedroom and plop-ed him onto the bed. Banjo showed his appreciation by instantly snuggling into the sheets and going back to sleep.


Jason walked back into the living room and turned on the record player, seeking refuge in the reassurance of some Brubeck rotations.


He grabbed an album cover and sat down on the couch, wasting no time pulling out the silver vial and ripping the cellophane off the Jacket.


Jason poured the vial's contents onto the red patch of the graphic as to Juxtapoz the dust- so that none of the coke would get lost on the surface.


The pink straw from the mini Coppalla Champangne can could be secured so that through it's clear pointed extension Jason could catch a glimpse of what he was snorting before it ascended up the pink straw and into his nasal passage.


The coke didn't have far to go, but it still would take a minute to hit. Jason then remembered that he had that unopened Pacifica in the fridge.


He grabbed it out of the fridge and then plopped him self back to where Banjo was sleeping earlier.


The first pull of the cold cheap beer was a nice respite from all the top shelf liquor he consumed with Sigourney all night.


Jason's apartment wasn't the biggest, it didn't have a hallway but at least it was cozy and there was the view of his sliding bay window overlooking the coast.


The apartment was dim enough for Jason to see, but dark enough for the blurred swaths of colors projected from the Tiki lamp to rotate on Jason's face as he stared out into the void.


The mirror behind Jason reflected the paused sparkles of the slow tide and somewhere on the other side there were broken bits and pieces of salt water that reflected the mirror back- creating other fractured,infinite worlds.


The piano got slower and the bass came closer to the front while it pulsated with the
brush gently scraping against the snare.


Jason took another hit of the beer, felt a little better.


Instead of the coke giving Jason a panic attack and sour stomach- it for once let him relax along with the pull of the Pacific.


Jason, lifted off onto a new rush- wondered where Heather was, who she was with. He had his back to wherever she was, but he knew they were under the same dark sky.


For once thinking of Heather actually seemed therapeutic - non threatening. For once Jason let him not beat himself up and his mind could have room to think and wonder.


Jason always was good at moving on but now, with Heather he wanted to stay confined within the Fortress of this day.


The tiki lamp glowed harder and the record player eventually turned itself off. The Pacifica kept safe, snug against Jason as the weight of his body collapsed into a gentle and forgiving sleep.























.

About Me

My photo
Houston, Texas
Be kind, because everyone you'll ever meet is fighting a hard battle.