I wash my hands into the sink and don’t move them much
just let the water flow over them
suddenly I start laughing in silence
wheezing
“Are you kidding me?” he asks from behind the mirror. “Laughing? At a time like this, in a place like this?”
“What’s wrong with laughing?” I ask
“Laughing is a social phenomenon,” he says. “It is only acceptable when performed in a social environment along with other people! You have no excuse for doing it alone.”
I dry my hands and nod to myself
then we both start laughing
and the others join in from all sides. The seen and the unseen
Honestly, what a blessing it is to know that I’m never alone
“D’you remember?” he said. “That time when we returned from work. We were working in the same place back then. And it was dark outside and we walked along the street when suddenly there’s this big watermelon that pops in our way. We walked up to it and gave it a few light kicks and convinced ourselves that it must’ve been dropped by some delivery truck or forgotten by some merchant. And then you had this brilliant idea. You said that we should take it to my place and share it. I picked it up and to my place we went and we shared the sweetest watermelon I’ve ever tasted in my life. Love was obviously the secret spice there. We were so poor back then we were crazy enough to pick some random watermelon from the streets. Well… not much changed today. I’m still poor and you’re still my imaginary girlfriend. We’ll be together forever, you and I.”
His eyes went big into the darkness and he looked around and saw that the time was 04:17 in the morning and he was still hunched over his improvised desk with that cheap, second-hand laptop before him in standby
So nothing new he’d fallen asleep again while battling the keys, fighting to come up with the immortal story he’d promised
‘Shit!’ he thought. ‘To whom did I even promise it?’
But the answer was all too obvious. ‘Myself… I’ve to get out of this closet apartment one day.’
He looked to his right where his six-year-old daughter was sleeping in the old sleeping bag. She appeared to be having another one of those fever dreams that would make her cry all day because of the ‘scissor spiders that sawed fingers and legs together’
Hell, but they were still a bit better than the dreams of mother who won’t be around by the time she woke up
He breathed deep and slow and the pain in his side calmed some
He was also terribly hungry and it felt like it affected his vision. Made it blurry
There was only one cure for all of this
He resumed his battle with the keys
Hoping to all the gods that the damned laptop won’t break again
“Just a few more chapters,” he whispered as he swallowed bitter saliva
and all they had under the overcast sky was a small boat they shared
The old man would drink from afternoon till morning and sleep all day He wasn’t good for much. Had cancer of the liver and enough kidney stones to add about a newborn’s weight in his core
“So I’m drinking,” he said. “Cuz I wanna bring it earlier. My end.”
“Well,” said the girl. “You’re drinking my money. I work hard for that shit, you know?”
“Shut up,” said the old man. “You’ll have all the money in the world after I’m gone. You can sell the boat and maybe borrow some money and get yourself a small, cozy apartment somewhere.”
“You’re delusional,” said the girl. “With the money this boat’s worth I’ll be lucky to get me a doormat. Used.”
“Don’t be disrespectful now,” said the old man. “I love this here boat like my wife.”
“You never had a wife.”
“Well shit! I love her as if she were my wife, okay? And she’s worth something. She’s worth a lot, I tell you. If you think she won’t be enough to get you started nicely in life, well, you should’ve gotten yourself a husband.”
“I don’t need a fucking husband. I’ll get one after I get out of poverty, not before.”
The old man watched the gray clouds above. It might as well have been grass to his eyes. “Oh, I sure hope to see that day from the other world. You think I’ll have to look up to see it? Or down?”
The girl didn’t answer
“Anyway,” said the old man. “I’m sure it’ll happen one day, my dear. Until then... Keep writing, okay? You’ll come out with the hit eventually. I know I haven’t been of much use to you in this life. But hey, maybe in the next. Maybe, as God reaches with his hand to take me above, I’ll bite off his little finger and spit it on the boat to you. Use it as a pen. See if you’ll write with it a story no eye could ever ignore. I want this for you, my dear. Even if I’ll trade my heaven for it.”
“Oh, you crazy old man.”
“I’m a serious crazy old man. Crazy enough to see heaven in you making it with your writings, dear. Thus, no matter how bad or evil I’ve been I know I’ll be going to heaven. I believe in you.”
She said nothing. Handed him a can of beer and went back to her writing
he found one crumpled cigarette in his breast pocket straightened it gently, expertly between his palms put it between his lips and lit it
He was on the roof watching the afternoon skies
a bit drunk
He pointed at the plume of smoke he exhaled and said, “The trick is to stay in the game until you’re the only one left. It don’t matter how good you are or how you evolve. Just stay in the game until you’re the last one.”
The smoke vanished before him, raising to the skies
He nodded. “That’s what I’m talking about.”
He finished the cigarette and went back down to the wedding
she lived alone and didn’t do much around the house
Ate TV dinners all day and drank and complained that she couldn’t sleep at night
Had a pretty nasty case of insomnia
What can you expect from a girl with snow-white hair and coal-black eyebrows? some had said
Obviously they weren’t referring to her insomnia but her other mental issues like being bipolar and depressed and other such things
You could try to sleep with her and the sex would be quick and then you’d have to spend the rest of the night listening to her talk about recycling being actually harmful for the environment
«Seriously,» she’d say. «People need to understand that the stuff just gets shipped overseas to third world countries where it’s burned or dissolved in chemicals to extract precious metals from it. That’s how it works. And it’s harmful for nature, harmful for everything and everyone. People have no awareness. They’re all so damn selfish, it’s ridiculous.»
The last guy who fell asleep during her speech had his foreskin folded and stapled shut
«Hit me!» she urged him. «Choke me or fuck me up but don’t you dare ignore me again!»
it was her dog that had to be put down not his He only saw the good boy for the past two weeks or so
Yet it was him who couldn’t get it up in bed because thoughts of the departed good boy wouldn’t let go of his mind
“I’m sorry,” he told her, hands covering his face in shame. “I just can’t. I... I feel we should dedicate this day to mourning, you know?”
“What?”
“Babe, you know how much I love dogs. The death of one... It, it just kills me, you know?”
She looked around for her panties. “Well, babe, I start to think you love ‘em dogs more than you love me, really.”
“Wah? How can you...?”
“Well, I mean, if you didn’t you’d want to comfort me in this time of need. It’s what I want, what I need to cope with the loss. But you’re not thinking about that, are you? No, all you’re thinking about is the dog. It wasn’t even your dog. You didn’t grow up with it, damn you!”
They hugged each other and cried on each other’s shoulder. Cried for the rest of the night
A few days later she came into the bedroom wearing a furry dog-themed outfit with ears and all Same color as the one who had been put down
Daydreaming as a profession 