Wednesday, June 08, 2005

Agents and Vomit

Euphoria, to walk through the streets head spinning and cold sweats. Sucking the last Mentos dug from the depths of a unknown corner in a large bag. Sweat drips down your spine or is that collected rain water from you faded blue hair.

In a passing window friends exchange banter and sip their 8 dollar martinis a gleam from the cooler a Canada dry. You buy four, no three, 'Believe it or not it's all we have!'. A cool sip, solidifies my state. My stomach is through.

I look for a quiet corner. Pass man, after man, the same man aging. Yellow gloves, white outfit. Must be cleaning. Three more friendless men. A door. Just as I catch sight of the nook my esophagus gives. Stumble into my hiding spot, to become weak, vulnerable, like a child with no eyes.

I wretch for what seems like forever before finally stepping out into the cool and sweet air of the alley, casually noticing that my apparent 10 minute alley travel was a mere ten steps from civilization. "A pleasure to share that moment of my life with all of you."

Take the long way around to 'air out' the smell is overpowering. Probably just to me, my nosee coated with stomach fluid. I again sip my ginger noticing that I had clutched it close this whole time.

Return to the haven which is in a stir. 'Where did you go' to the waitee waiting seems frantic. "Digi walked to McDonalds to find you" McDonalds?

The ordeal explained the phone is rung and it seems a situation arose in my absence. Connection defaulted docking dismounted a frantic call for a ride. A few wrong turns and a couple moments later the ride resumes it's flow.

Another crisis averted, another just begun.


Kafka said...

Can anyone say Gibsonian? That was...breathy prose. Turn that on some more.

[].ragko said...

You honour me with such a prestigous ianian

digi said...
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