August/September, 1994 – Key West

"Alone in the Superunkown…"
-Soundgarden, "Superunkown"

"It’s love! It’s love! I’m dying of…"
-Devotchka, "Head honcho"

My concern grows with each moment of silence…

It’s hot. There is no wind. Stoned and alone in the living room. Staring at nothing, sitting in the apartment in the late summer of 1994. Everything is falling apart.
Men Without Hats’ "Safety Dance" vibrates through our floor for close to the millionth time. Rob, our downstairs neighbor, plays that 45 all day, repeatedly, only alternating with the Village People’s "Key West." Over and over and over, over over over over…

___ is never up. He’s always in bed, sick.
In the back of my mind, coloring perception, effecting my behavior, is the growing concern/dread/panic that he’s positive, and therefore…

___ never gets out of bed.

The beat pounds continually in four-minute intervals.

The wind never blows.

I think he and I might be dying.

Our apartment is still, save for my pacing.