Thursday, April 17, 2008

last day of the world/On the last day of the world

“The sweetest price he’ll have to pay-The day the whole world went away.” -Nine-Inch Nails, “The Day the World Went Away”

He woke up late. No work today, so why not? The TV came on and the bong appeared. “But first, a little more rest.” He thought, repositioning, clutching the comforter. Minutes later, 30 or so, the phone rings. He fields a call, then another, then makes one or two more, drinking coffee, hitting the bong throughout, then jumping in the shower.

He loves showering stoned. The heat of the water running down his body, his senses refreshed, cleansed, the buzz remaining. The shampoo smells good; his hair feels clean. He opens his mouth to accept the hot water. Day off. Not wearin’ deodorant. Not shavin’. No need.

He finishes the coffee, changes into some sweats, and heads out the door. The air is cool, and possibly one of the last cool springtime mornings, as the temperatures during the day are steadily rising to the 60’s and 70’s, and soon, beyond. Walking the sidewalk, he watches people coming towards him, the people passing him, and the stationary people window-shopping. He watches them all.

He watches the traffic respond to the dictates set by the traffic lights along the arterial road. He notices the curious patterns of car clusters and pedestrian crossings in their wake. He pays attention to the down-tempo synchronicity of busses crossing paths along the far lanes of the same street, stopping at almost every stop. He watches people walking dogs. He looks around at the High School kids. They’re all there, on the street, all around the other.

The roar was the last thing they all heard.

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