Smoky basement, wood rafters exposed.  There is loud music playing and I'm surrounded by people I know.  Everyone is blackout drunk.  Traversing the crowd without moving my feet, like stop-motion animation, I brush up against an older gentleman who is talking about keeping his lines tight and his waves right.  I say something silent to him and he follows me.  His hand is on my shoulder.  As I'm turning around, he suddenly goes limp and I watch his head bounce off the concrete floor.  Another person across the room follows suit.  I have a stabbing pain in my head and press my fingers to my eyes.  A group of guys are carrying Rhett by his arms and legs.  He appears to be unconscious and drooling.  He isn't wearing any pants.  I'm standing at the base of a stairway and grab the railing to steady myself as the group pushes past me.  The stabbing pain is lighting up my brain.  I shake my head and start to fall...



*wake*

felled by a giant, my legs buckle beneath me. 

everything i had is meaningless. 
have i tread on some holy ground? 

crushed by the weight of my own mind, i flounder. 

i see my resolve flutter by, wishing me a fond farewell.

i reach out, there is no way.

my head in the ashes of what once was, i concede.

every effort is futile.

Woman.  Late 40s.  Short, non-flattering style to her dark, but lightly peppered hair.  Thick, wire rimmed frames over puffy red eyes.  Nondescript outfit, bland.  She's standing in front of me holding a boxed vinyl figure and waiting for me to notice her confused look.  I ignore her.  She leans toward me holding up the box with a raised eyebrow "What does this...do?" 

Me:  "Nothing?  It doesn't actually do anything.  Well, I take that back.  It glows in the dark."

Her:  "It glows, huh?  That's all?  What is this thing?"

She is begging me with her eyes to slap the incredulous look off her face.

Her:  "I just don't understand why anyone would ever buy this.  What would you do with it?"

I hold back a sigh and tell her "It's kinda like buying a painting and hanging it on your wall, that's what you do with it."

She's staring at me, mouth agape without a clue in the world.  She sets it back on the shelf, turns to her friend and says "What is going ON?!"

I smile sweetly at her friend.

I'm in a house.  Everything is dim and my perspective is from the floor, looking up.  The walls are white, but aged and scuffed.  I can see some posters and a shelf above me.  There is a Kid Dragon vinyl figure taken apart and superglued to the shelf.  The pieces are all out of order.  I smell electricity.

*blink*

I'm outside.  The sun is shining.  I'm at the apex of a hill on one of those super slides they have at carnivals, on my burlap sack.  The slide is made of dense foam and I'm having a hard time moving over the hump.  Somehow, I know I'm on a train...and not on a slide.  I feel the lurching of the train car.

*blink*

I am in a train.  I'm standing near the door that leads from one car to the next.  I look back over my shoulder and survey the people seated there.  A young boy that I'm acquainted with gets up and walks toward me with his hand extended.

*blink*

Me and a young girl are walking out of a patio door, holding hands, and start to descend a small flight of stairs into a lush garden of a yard.  The breeze blows her superfine hair over her face.  I don't know her.  Everything is green and alive.  The train car lurches again.  I look down at the girl and she nods to me.  Our hands release and she turns into mist. 

*wake*

bad frame of mind puts tears in my eyes, obstructing the flow of my bitter lament.  fooling those around me, no kidding.  no killing.  wait...was i kidding?  killing the feelings, rising to the occasion, ruining the moment.  unraveling the present, crumbling foundations of the future and moving on to yesterday.

Crimson gore in the dream of an idea.  A bad idea, a sad idea.  I murdered her, but it was an accident.  She was dancing in those frilly pajamas and you weren't looking.  The lights were so bright and her hair was bouncing up and down.  She looked at me, knowingly, for just a little too long and went back to dancing that stupid dance in front of the mirror.  I murdered her, but it was an accident.  When you came into the foyer, I didn't know what to say.  I just stood there, hands wet, evaluating what I had done.  She walked in looking like she was going out, dolled to the nines.  I turned away from her, pretending she wasn't there and falsely occupied myself with something on the shelf by the door.  I could see her reflection in the mirror.  She was staring right at me.  I spun around to find her dancing in those frilly pajamas.  I'm sorry.  I murdered her, but it was an accident.