Janus

I can’t stop myself from looking at him – snow white skin, hair, dark as chocolate, topaz eyes borrowed from a bird of prey, soft lips, bowed in a mischievous arch – vibrant memories, which won’t  let me sleep, won’t let me close my eyes. Even if I do, I’ll open them up, asap. Feeling his breath, his gaze peeled to whatever there is to be to be noticed in my face.

Even in the darkness of the room, drawn curtains, and the half moon shining… Even in the solid black mist his eyes seems to glow in that strange orange golden light. He seems to emit it, his faces, his mouthes, his shiny teeth… All screaming curiosity.

“What is it?”

“Nothing. I´ve never seen someone fall asleep before.”

“What? Never? Why?”

“I never sleep. So I’m curious.”

“Suit yourself.” Indeed, I’m exhausted, and ´bout to fall asleep. “So you never sleep, hm? Do you – ever dream?” My lips move lazily. The bed sheets still hot and messed up. Feeling heavy on my skin.

“Yes. But mine are different from yours. I do not lose myself doing so.” His voice softens, moves closer somewhere near my left temple. “And when you’ll lose yourself, you’ll be empty – a living, breathing hollow shell. Just waiting.” His voice sounds now like a whisper, moves suddenly from my left to the right ear… Of course -forgot- two mouthes. Two tongues. Strangely, they sound the same.

Can’t open my eyes, sleep burns inside of them. It is a soft warm black, that keeps dripping, dissolving into my mind. “Mhm. What for?” Words drop out hazily, I just breathe them out.

“For me, to do as I please… Shhh, now. Go back to sleep…”

orange

With a low growl she pushes me away, as I try to kiss her. She turns her head.

Just breathe in. Fine! Still angry! Whatever.

I seat myself, in one of those rattan chairs waiting for customers outside the Cafe. “Ah, the sunshine! So nice. I’m fed up with winter. And it’s not only me. The birds are going crazy, specially blackbirds. One of them tried to give me a haircut, flying by. I had to duck.” It really is warm enough to enjoy the sun and the blue sky. “Why are we meeting here again? I had lunch cooked… You know. At least you could have told me earlier.”

“Mmmhm…” She hasn’t ordered anything till now? Waiting isn’t her forte. I wonder… She looks absently to the passers by. Maybe it is something more than the usual trouble. “Now what’s with those coffees?!” Rhetorical. How should I know? She sounds impatiently. Oh, so she did order then. After a nightshifts she’s usually grumpy – caffeine makes her bearable… No scenes in public, she’s not doing that. Neither do I, which may be the perk of meeting here, I guess. Waiter is nowhere to be seen. Her fingers drum on the table.

“I don’t know, maybe the waiter just borded a plane to Brasilia for those beans…” A cheap one, I admit. Well, she’s not relaxing. Neither do I. I don’t need this…

We have issues.

Yes, we both know it. Our relation is – how do I put it – dying. Slowly dissolving into the daily routines of both of us. At least we’d don’t have to talk about it… Here. “You know, something weird happened today. I don’t think you will believe me. Hell, not even I believe it. But it happened.”

She looks at me with that expression on her face, saying “Try me”.

“On my way here, I encountered a group of odd-looking orange man. I parked, and got out of the car. But then, a black van pulled over. The tailgate flew open, and a lot of orange men spilled out. ´Bout twenty, I guess. All dressed in orange, from head to toe. I first thought, this was a – donno – happening, some weird art, an add or simply a prank. But the orange men ran up to every one walking on the street. One of them tugged my hand and scratched me with something on the back of my hand. Here. It stung. See? It left a little mark there, it even bled. I don’t know what it was. He just smiled and said – ‘You’re welcome.’ What do you make of that?! And then, they all ran back to that van and jumped in. The car drove off with screeching tires.”

“Right. I don’t believe it.” She’s pale. “You making this up. Stop with your stories! All lies. All LIES.” She glares now at me.

“What? NO! What lies? I’m not a liar! I’m a writer! I live with stories, they pay the rent and your clothes and food. And this one is true.” I protest. It is true. “God! What’s up with you anyway?”

She looks at me dead serious. “I’ve read the one you left on your desk…” What does she means? I don’t let stuff lie around. Usually…

“It’s about me, isn’t it? That’s why you left it lying around. For me to find it! Since when did you know? Tell me! And you kept silent. For what? If you knew bout me and Andy, why not fighting for us?!”

“What…?” Confused, I try to understand. I swallow. “What did you just say?” Barely audible question. This hurts. It’s not fair. No, it wasn’t a question. I’ve got to sort things out. I’m not staying. Not making a scene, eh? What a fucking joke. “…Why?” No I don’t want to hear an answer. Just go. Go. GO.

I try not to bump into everyone.

The black van pulls up again. It slows down, to match my walking speed. “So… How did you like that luck-infusion? You’re welcome,” grins the man in orange, from the passenger seat. “You know, things we need are not equal to those we want. Now have a good day, sir. Try not to waste the rest of it. It wears off easily, if wasted.” He smiles.

fool moon

Oh, god. Terrible. Ghastly. I’m going to be sea-sick. Or wine-sick, or just… sick.

“Don’t you dare! No! Don’t throw up! I caught that fish! Why did you drink so much wine, anyway?” Her pitching voice drilling itself into my head. More than annoying. Plus… I managed to get myself stuck here, on this boat. With her. In the middle of nowhere, without wind, without oars.

Fuck. That’s what I get. Serves me right, trying to screw her. Being romantic ‘n stuff. I think. I gonna…

“Son of a bitch! You owe me a lunch and a warm bed! You owe me good time! You little shit! Scumbag! Idiot! You brought us here! You prick, get us back! I won’t put up with you another week! I swear I’m gonna kill you.”

“No! No wine for you! No! Bad! Bad girl! Put that plate down. It’s the last one. It isn’t fair! My leg is in splinters. Oh, come on! I can’t even move.” But she’s right. I owe her. Much more than that…

She pulled me out of the water. I would have drowned, mangled up and unconscious. I owe her my life. She has to do all the work. And I just lay here giving instructions. It’s ok. She has every right to vent on me. Surviving that storm was a wonder, anyway. The currents though. I donno where we’ve been drifting too. Luckily we’ve got fresh water from the rain. But no more painkillers. Wine is a bliss. At least passing out from wine is better than passing out from pain. I’d wish I had some better stuff. The night is coming. It’s going to be freezing. Starlit autumn sky.

The full moon is rising above the black waters. It’s going to be nasty.

“If we survive this, I’m going to make you pay!” She yells. I hope we get rescued, before she throws me over board.

“It’s ok. I know. You’re my mad girl…”

night bird

A Chuck Wending – THE RANDOMIZED TITLE REARS ITS HEAD – prompt

*

Trapped in our nightmares, we let them lead our salvation.

Oh god, there it is. The burn.

Again. In my head.

The pencil runs down at the bottom of the “Happy Lotus” takeout menu. Get out!

This line has been nesting between my ears for month; and now just slipped, wriggled itself from the tip of my tongue. Bad eel. I haven’t been able to exorcise myself from it. I turn it over hundred thousand times. It hurts. It… Hurts.