I like to write things down. What more can be said. The stories speak for themselves I think. Ultimately, I am only a road of thought. It is the vehicles of story that deserve the greatest attention.
What is this? What is happened here? How can I have succumbed to this? Blind-sided by what... A nameless wonder? I should have never have gone there that night. Wait wait, let me start from the beginning.
It was warm and it was night. A dangerous combo while one is alone in the world and so many others seem to meet the potentials of fulfilling my empty space... if even just for a scant few hours. I was out and about and fell into a crowd of people partying it up in the park. There were raging fires in garbage barrels and music played by several peoples who strummed away on their guitars. Many of the males and females were well past drunk and that point were clothes seem to come off. Consequently, there were half naked people here and there mixed in to the fray of what seemed to be hundreds of party goers. It was like stepping into a carnival. There was even a short person or two, midgets or dwarves, I could never tell the dif and don’t have a clue to what reference is politically correct. And why is it they always seem to hand around large ladies with unusual amounts of facial hair? Before long, I had a bottle of something thrusted into my hand and some slippery woman with her top off gave me a wet kiss that was long and on fire. I was hooked and decided I wasn’t leaving till I caught up to the rest of the people here. It didn’t take long. Soon enough, I was down to my shorts and was singing in my loudest outside voice with the other people long away from their senses. And this is were my memory gets spotty.
I recall seeing a young boy there. Had to be seven or eight. What the hell he was doing there is beyond me. He was sitting on a bench, elbows on his knees, and yelling, “Dat not good! Dat not good!” over and over again. One of the midgets had a stick with a water-balloon attached to one end and was waving it around like Rafiki from the Lion King. He was screaming, “You won’t find him here. The king has returned.” Someone brought an elephant to the park and it was drinking beer through its trunk. Let me tell you, a drunk elephant is hilarious to see. In retrospect, I can’t imagine where the elephant came from but at the time, it seemed as natural as honey. I was eating a taco chip I found on the ground and blissfully oblivious to anything being out of order in the world when she walked by me. Time screamed and screeched to a halt. Sounded like a fast moving train that suddenly locked up its breaks on the track. In mid chew, I lost any ability I had left in coordinated movement. Pieces of chewed up chip fell back out of my loosely hanging mouth. The woman was moving away from me, oblivious to me and her effects on me, but she began to move in slow motion. It was like the Matrix sort of. She moved and everything else looked still. Half naked and perfect in shape, I could not help but to instantly love her. A flash of light and I saw her turn towards me. She mouthed the words I want you. Those lips were easy to read because they filled my entire world. Keep in mind, I was annihilated at this time. I can’t even say for sure what I was seeing was real or hallucinated. There was a small hill that I somehow was barrel rolling down with that wondrous woman. Her mostly nude body against my mostly nude body. What a memory... real or not. We ended in a ditch with her on top. She was an animal, so much aggression in that temple of pleasure that was her. I like to think I was sexy and in control of my mannerisms and that was what drove her to such heights. Fanciful thinking on my part I’m sure. I must have been nothing more then an incoherent drooling mess with the coordination of a monkey with no fingers or toes. Just when my poor brain that was soaked in the poisons began to catch up to the moment, she burst from her skin. Literally burst from her skin. In that ditch, away from everyone else who were too wasted to care anyway, I found myself pinned by a large growling dog. Caught between what I though were going to be my best moments of my life and what could have been the last moments of my life, I froze up like a shallow pond in the cold winter months.
The dog bit me on my shoulder and it bit me hard. I felt its teeth sink into my body but I felt no pain what so ever. It must have been the numbing shield of booze that saved me from that part of the experience. I just laid there and took it. The dog, having expressed its dissatisfaction with me, leapt off and disappeared. I continued to lay there. How did that dream woman end up being a dog? My brain couldn’t sort it out. Eventually I pulled myself out of the ditch and back into the party that was self-terminating. It had gotten late and people were dropping like flies. My shoulder was bleeding pretty good and I must of appeared as though I survived a plane crash. I stumbled around, trying to find my clothes that were lost for good. I settled with anything I could find that fit. Still in a haze of alcohol and what ever else I may have ingested, I tried to hone in on home. It was tough. I had on somebody's pink mesh shirt, it was so small and useless, I don’t know why I bothered to put it on at all. I bled right through it. Then I saw her again. Once again her effect was paralyzing. She saw me and my bleeding shoulder. She approached me, reached into a small bag she carried, and pulled out a small square package. She tore it open and unfold a pad. You know, one of those light day pads for menstruation. She lifted my pink meshed shirt and slipped the pad in over my injury. She patted my head, smiled, and said, “Good boy.” Then she walked away. And I watched her go.
Thats it. That is all I remember. I have a terribly sore shoulder today and my head is pounding like some in there is playing calypso drums. I can’t stop thinking of her and and how unreal the whole night seemed. Mostly, I can’t stop thinking of her. I am unable to focus on anything else. I may never see her again and that makes me feel way worse then this raging hangover. It is like I don’t want to live any longer if I can’t see her again. Yet I must live if I am to ever have another chance to see her. Dead people don’t get many opportunities do they? Not. I better get my sorry self to the hospital and make sure I don’t get rabies or something from this dog bite. Maybe they can give me something to help me forget that woman while I am there. Then maybe I can get my head out of the clouds and back on track again. How the hell can a woman do that to a man anyway? I mean, what special powers do women have to bewitch a man as she has done to me?
I made it to the hospital. I hate being in these places. The biggest downer going. Sick and unhappy people come together and make the most uncheerful environment outside of a concentration camp. I was only there for fifteen minutes before I made my mind to leave and take my chances with the rabies. I stood up and promptly fell back on my butt into my seat. You would never guess who the nurse who stepped out was. Or maybe you would. It was her. As beautiful as I remembered her. No, I take that back. She was more beautiful then I remembered. And she looked straight at me. She walked to me smiling and said, “Hi again. How about letting me look after you.” Life is grand!
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