Post by Justin Paige on Feb 14, 2024 21:38:07 GMT -6
"I could really tell you some messed up stories, man. I've had more than my fair share of broken bones, broken hearts, and broken promises." The man sits at a neon lit bar, the NFL Superbowl between the Kansas City Chiefs and San Francisco 49ers is in overtime. I'm not letting my annoyance show but I just want to watch this damn game in silence. The T.V. is muted, this guy and one other passed out in the corner booth wearing more of his drink than he drank are the only others here. Shit, I couldn't even tell you where the bartender vanished too. Lucky Bastard. "Yeah..yeah..one time, I remember, this one time I was walking down the middle of the road right out front, right? I was out there just tanked.." "Enough.." I quietly muttered. I just wanted to see the if the Chiefs pull this drive off. I don't know why San Fran received. He seemed to pick up on my focus. "Hey man, listen, this shit's rigged it doesn't matter! So I was sitting in the middle of" "I said enough. For the love of all things you consider holy, please let me finish the game." "No, who gives a crap about that game, this story is worth 10 world bowls or whatever. So I was standing right next to the curb," he snorts out of his fat red nose, clearly this was a habit of his, "and I look over and see this broad, yeah? Man she just..." he motions toward his chest implying she had tits.
Who would have thought.
No...not now. That's a voice I haven't heard in a while...
The man reaches out and places his sweaty palm on my forearm. Mahomes just scrambled to the 12 yard line. "I need you to listen to this part. It's fantasssic. She's walking and I stand up from the middle of the street and start walking over to her". A minute passes. They are lining up on the 3 yard line. "Hey look at me man," he places his hand on my shoulder and squeezes enough to agitate an old bone spur clean up, "I said, fucking listen to me!" HIKE 3 seconds left as Hardman catches the ball on the 1 and walks into the endzone.
We win...
Shit.
Before the T.V. has time to switch to the replay, this man...this...
Waste of Space
has his arm twisted, nose broken on the bar top and is on his way out the door. Not by his own consent. "I'm listening." I seethe through my teeth as I drag him through the parking lot. "It was this road. You were standing in the middle of it?" his feet scuff the asphalt as I lead him by the nape of the neck to the middle of the road.
Right here.
Who would have thought.
My fist is numb from previous nerve damage, the boxers break that never healed, the jammed wrist, the tendonitis in my elbow. The only way I can feel my fist connecting is by the warm spittle that keeps landing on my face. "Please! I didn't mean it mister, I just get carried away"
Same
His spittle turns to speckles. The frothy liquid slowly becomes gradient streaks of red running down my face. "Wait, you said you were sitting." My knee connects to the man's belly button and the inside of my shoe finishes by sliding down the inside of his leg down his knee. You can hear the tendon pop over his gargled squeal. I need to quit.
No you don't.
I see the lights coming down the road towards our newly formed intersection of soiled pavement and not. Long blonde strands of hair, dyed red now, drape over my eyes. Those lights are colored. Red and Blues. Time to go.
Just take him too, panzy.
Not anymore my friend, not anymore.
Before the lights can illuminate the bloody lump in the middle of the road where a women was catcalled, "Great story by the way" I'm out of it. Under the bridge and through the woods.
To grandmother's house we go.
"It's been almost a decade since I heard that voice. It's been a peaceful, long time since that voice had anything to say." I mutter as I keep my head down and text my therapist, Kelsee. "You've been with me the whole journey. Why is this happening?" I hit send and walk blindly through a stop light.
Thought that was going to be the time a car finished the job.
If you're back, I wish we were that lucky.
Reply bubble. "What did you do before going out?" "I didn't do anything new." I quickly send back. "Well, what was different?" I stop and look up. I have no idea where the hell I've been aimlessly walking to. "I woke up, took my meds, checked my phone for nothing, finally plugged in my T.V. at home, got in the shower and then went down."
Late start to the day, bum.
Shut up.
My phone rings, I answer on half a ring like the simp I am for her sweet brain scrubbing. "What was on the T.V.? Sorry, I'm trying to get ready for bed and texting took to much energy." I relax a little. "I don't know, I just turned it on for background noise. I think the only thing that perked my interest was some wrestling thing. Some kind of documentary" Little twinge in my neck. "It was a documentary about the fall of F1X, Justin. I watched it and I hate to say, there wasn't a moment where you mentioned." "Are you serious?" The scowl hits hard. "Come by the office tomorrow and we will talk about it. For now, get home and take your pills. Get a good nights sleep." She knows that's a bag of worms that we don't have hooks for. "Yeah...okay.." The reminder of home causes me to take in my surroundings as I hang up the phone "Guess I better start walking.."
Who would have thought.
No...not now. That's a voice I haven't heard in a while...
The man reaches out and places his sweaty palm on my forearm. Mahomes just scrambled to the 12 yard line. "I need you to listen to this part. It's fantasssic. She's walking and I stand up from the middle of the street and start walking over to her". A minute passes. They are lining up on the 3 yard line. "Hey look at me man," he places his hand on my shoulder and squeezes enough to agitate an old bone spur clean up, "I said, fucking listen to me!" HIKE 3 seconds left as Hardman catches the ball on the 1 and walks into the endzone.
We win...
Shit.
Before the T.V. has time to switch to the replay, this man...this...
Waste of Space
has his arm twisted, nose broken on the bar top and is on his way out the door. Not by his own consent. "I'm listening." I seethe through my teeth as I drag him through the parking lot. "It was this road. You were standing in the middle of it?" his feet scuff the asphalt as I lead him by the nape of the neck to the middle of the road.
Right here.
Who would have thought.
My fist is numb from previous nerve damage, the boxers break that never healed, the jammed wrist, the tendonitis in my elbow. The only way I can feel my fist connecting is by the warm spittle that keeps landing on my face. "Please! I didn't mean it mister, I just get carried away"
Same
His spittle turns to speckles. The frothy liquid slowly becomes gradient streaks of red running down my face. "Wait, you said you were sitting." My knee connects to the man's belly button and the inside of my shoe finishes by sliding down the inside of his leg down his knee. You can hear the tendon pop over his gargled squeal. I need to quit.
No you don't.
I see the lights coming down the road towards our newly formed intersection of soiled pavement and not. Long blonde strands of hair, dyed red now, drape over my eyes. Those lights are colored. Red and Blues. Time to go.
Just take him too, panzy.
Not anymore my friend, not anymore.
Before the lights can illuminate the bloody lump in the middle of the road where a women was catcalled, "Great story by the way" I'm out of it. Under the bridge and through the woods.
To grandmother's house we go.
"It's been almost a decade since I heard that voice. It's been a peaceful, long time since that voice had anything to say." I mutter as I keep my head down and text my therapist, Kelsee. "You've been with me the whole journey. Why is this happening?" I hit send and walk blindly through a stop light.
Thought that was going to be the time a car finished the job.
If you're back, I wish we were that lucky.
Reply bubble. "What did you do before going out?" "I didn't do anything new." I quickly send back. "Well, what was different?" I stop and look up. I have no idea where the hell I've been aimlessly walking to. "I woke up, took my meds, checked my phone for nothing, finally plugged in my T.V. at home, got in the shower and then went down."
Late start to the day, bum.
Shut up.
My phone rings, I answer on half a ring like the simp I am for her sweet brain scrubbing. "What was on the T.V.? Sorry, I'm trying to get ready for bed and texting took to much energy." I relax a little. "I don't know, I just turned it on for background noise. I think the only thing that perked my interest was some wrestling thing. Some kind of documentary" Little twinge in my neck. "It was a documentary about the fall of F1X, Justin. I watched it and I hate to say, there wasn't a moment where you mentioned." "Are you serious?" The scowl hits hard. "Come by the office tomorrow and we will talk about it. For now, get home and take your pills. Get a good nights sleep." She knows that's a bag of worms that we don't have hooks for. "Yeah...okay.." The reminder of home causes me to take in my surroundings as I hang up the phone "Guess I better start walking.."