Scattered

There are clothes tossed about the floor. My clothes, my floor,my bedroom floor. This isn’t the way things should be. This isn’t how I live or how I have been living for the last three years. Things get picked up and put away. Everything in order. My sleeping chamber a place of peace and tranquility. My haven within a haven.

Now everything is scattered about. Trashed. It isn’t so much the clothes. Although they are annoying, more annoying are the shoes. How is it that shoes never make their way back into my closet. They have homes there. Each and everyone of them a place, a home of its own. Still they are constantly wondering about. Just like the clothes now adorning the floor.

But I just can’t think with the smell you create. It makes me want to flee every time I come home.Into the room, I dash as soon as I get home spaying air freshener and get out of my work clothes. Then I drag  myself back out to the shed and get the machete.

Everyday, I chopped another bit of you off.  It has been quite difficult to dismantle you this way. I’ve had to boil some of you and break the bigger parts down with a hammer. Most days I am so tired afterwards, I barely have time to scrap you out from under my nails before bed. But rest assured, you won’t be a bother for much longer another couple weeks and I will have my room back and you will be returned to the earth. One doggie bag at a time.

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Generosity (April Page 10 )

The sun in April is already blazing, burning your tender alabaster skin to the color of freshly steamed lobster.  Hustler or vagabond, it doesn’t matter. Your need grabs my attention before you speak. You stumble over words in a quest for assistance.  Just three dollars, an odd sum and one likely to garner you a larger bill in any case.

Your cause is just.  A child, ill and in need of food. Just three dollars between you and the goal.  Three dollars is all you ask for. Your target, a woman, not too old or two young. Someone likely to have children and not yet over whelmed or maybe just in deep enough that she can see the desperation in someone else’s voice.  It is there. In your voice, in your question, desperation.  It doesn’t matter if your story is a lie or the truth. The desperation is real and thick in the air between us.

Reaching  into my bag, I don’t even wait for you to finish your plea before I but the money in your hand. I look only for a moment, lingering for just a second on the crisp twenty and then it is yours.  You talk for a moment, I answer your questions, hoping you will listen, knowing that the chances of you seeking assistance where I direct are slim. Still, I spoke the words meant for you and say my peace.  Grateful you haven’t thank god for my assistance.

Smiling as I go. It wasn’t a Christian thing to do. It was the right thing to do.

And I know by the laws of the old Gods that if you were lying and took my money, then the trick is twisted against you.  Enjoy the web that you have woven.

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Placed (April Page 9)

It wasn’t a torrid or trashy scene.  It was really beautiful and tender with ambient light and two lovers laying next to each other. Their bodies blending together as if they were created for one other despite the decade difference between them.  The look on their faces wasn’t sinful or awkward, but peaceful and content.  The sheets of the bed were artfully shielding any impropriety that their arms and legs did not cover.  Perhaps the gods of love had posed them there, placed them together where their hearts had always belonged.

Whatever deity or circumstance had placed them there was cruel and malicious to Malcolm. He already felt like a failure, unnoticed and unloved.  Opening the door to the studio whose key he should have lost and seeing them without them even stirring in their slumber should have caused some drama. Some outburst from his already defeated soul, a last gasp for love or maybe even outrage. He just stood for three heartbeats, each ticking in his head echoing in the silence, begging to be noticed.

It was a muffled mewing that caused their eyes to flutter then their lips to smile and finally a small gasp when they noticed the grey kitten peeking in the door.  There wasn’t a rush to close the door and hide in shame.  Just two lovers falling in love with a kitten, named Karma.