
There is a dark hotel room, and the butter hearts of paradise dawn come rushing through like maniac bullets. There is her beating heart, living beside me in dreams of blue, majestic light, somewhere out far in desert kiss of red. I look up at the nondescript ceiling. Bumps of white now muted in the cracked glow of the bathroom light. The muffled sound of footsteps shuffling up above. I keep forgetting what I forgot. I wanted the top floor, but they didn’t give it to me. I even asked nicely, but they still didn’t give it to me. Now I’m pressed between floor number 2 and floor number 4. The noises and the smells float up and down and right through me. And now a couple is humping in the room right next door. I can hear the grunting and the moaning. The wall vibrates. I get up to use the bathroom.
On my way to the window I stop beside the bed and look down at her. She’s sound asleep. The cornsilk hair with a light dusting of powdered sugar frames her face. I’m married to a woman. I ache to touch her, but I don’t want to wake her up. It’s too early or late, I’m not even sure. The grinding sex commotion next door is getting to me. I take a trembling drink of water from a plastic bottle on the nightstand. I go to the window and part the curtains.
A parking lot full of cars. Steam and mist from the sky brightens in the glow of tall lamps. I can’t be sure, but I think someone is killing another person. Or maybe it’s just rough love in the rain. No, there’s hitting. I watch them. Should I interfere by calling someone? I decide to let them fight it out. One falls to the ground. There’s wide-mouth jawing going on. The one on the ground gets up and hurriedly walks away. The other stands there in the mist and then lights up a cigarette. Now he is leaning against my car. I tap on the window as hard as I can. The smoking person turns their head and looks around. My hand drops. What’s the use. I can’t control the actions of others. I can’t control the world. It will break me in two if I try.
What is it then? How do I contain myself in a world gone mad? How do I live in such a ridiculous society? So much I would change but feel so helpless to do so. It’s getting away from me. I can’t stop it all, or any of it so it seems. Breathe deep. Small actions of love and peace. I turn away from the window and look back at her sleeping so soundly in the bed. I go to touch her face. Kiss her forehead. She stirs. Mumbles something I don’t understand. It is everything the world offers.
My new book is now available for purchase: The Apocalypse Pipe. Available in both e-book and print editions! Thanks for reading and supporting independent writers.



Your thoughts?