Life Just Kind Of Empties Out (Again)

2:21 – 2:35 AM

2:21 AM    Two cats fucking. Or fighting, one inside the other. I mean, given the particulars of feline anatomy, both are sort of true All The Time. (Dickspikes).

2:22 AM    One of the last answering machines in existence happens to capture the best inadvertent/unintentional break-up speech ever. “And it’s like, even though you’re not as good as her, you’ll do for now.”  Posterity wins; to the victor goes Immortality on the Internet.

2:23 AM    Shot from outside, long and from above, canted down, a car gradually parts ways with the road. Cut to: a ditch.

2:24 AM    Sitting down and basking in the gold brown glow, breathing in the steam of a freshly plated Meta-Slam, “That’s four Grand Slam breakfasts arranged in the shape of a diamond,” his heart skips a beat. Is this love?

2:25 AM    “Dear Sirs,

I just had a VERY sub-optimal experience with your inaccurately-named, so-called “”ULTIMATE’ Shower Massage”. Try PENULTIMATE– as I’ve had more thorough massages using a pen. I lead a very busy and very stress-filled life and all I ask is, once a week, fifty wet and lonely minutes in which to massage…”

2:26 AM    A drunk teenager, having thrown-up on the sidewalk outside her parents’ house, picks through her heavings, groping hopeless for her spectacles.

2:27 AM    Half-nude and reeking of booze, an of-grown-children father finds himself awake in his chair. The kind of awake that only happens after an accidental nap: supremely clear, preternaturally alert, completely alone, teeth hurt.  Unable to fall back to sleep, he tells himself a bedtime story. The room records his passing.

2:28 AM    Silent. Monopolizing the frame, the spinning of the siren’s red parts deconstructs emergency. Push back on the blue-suited EMTs swarming the Buick– still rev’ving tires into the brush-covered side of the snowy ravine.

2:29 AM    When will this kid shut up?

A. Not until it leaves you and never comes back
B. Titties
C. If only I could be afforded the uncertain parentage of paternity
D. A pillow

2:30 AM    A stray gun shot rings out for no-one. It marks the half-hour.

2:31 AM    Upon retrieving glasses, brushes off a chunk of pear. Gravel soup has reground the lenses; green gingham blouse besmirched by hurl.

2:32 AM    Still at work, wiping up the floor where that flat stack of mancake batter collapsed beneath forty one dollars of Denny’s.

2:33 AM    Staring out the windshield unfocused of the LeSabre, gauging the proximity of her body to home.

2:34 AM    Two people fucking. In their sleep. Both bodies, restless, found each other: slow-groping unknowing hands caressing a path to their find(s). It is the best sex they’ll ever have, do and neither will every remember it wasn’t half-a-dream.

2:35 AM    “It’s alright; she’s only sleeping”

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