Wednesday, August 19, 2009

The Hollowing

The sound of traffic is my constant companion as I walk. Today the sun is out, there's a pleasant breeze, and the street I'm walking along has plenty of nice trees for shade. The perfect time to think and plot.

Garbage needs to go out before morning. No doubt the cats have again attempted to wow me with their ability to coat the floor with kitty litter and my roomate has probably dirtied half the dishes in the house, and hidden all the utinsels in her room under soiled clothes. Same old, same old. I opt to pick up a sandwich on my way home along with some other fruits and vegitables I can safely eat with my hands. Banana's would be nice, I haven't had much potassium in awhile...

Oh yes and then there's some phonecalls. I need to call my mother back and find out what package made its way all the way to their place with my name on it. And those health-vampires from the plasma clinic called demanding my vital fluids; accursed type 0 blood!

Hmm... maybe some tomatoes too. I remember the last time I went to the plasma clinic they sent me away because my blood-iron was too low; too good for my plasma are you, I'll show you!

Once all that's taken care of though I should be able to more or less relax. Damn, the library had that book I'd ordered and I completely forgot! Oh well, I can probably finish up one of the ones I dropped half-way through tonight anyway...

A siren screeches past, heading where I do not know - past me and through the intersection. The ambulance speeds by only a foot and a half from my nose and then is racing off towards the hospital.

I pause a moment. Probably nothing, but as the sirens fade and I watch the ambulance disappear I can't help the feeling that someone is dying. And for some reason, whenever thoughts of mortality drift to the surface, I can't help thinking of T.S. Elliot's poem. I can't help dragging my little rat feet over broken glass, searching for voices in the wind's singing as I awake alone here on this street.

Life is very long.

Standing on that street, I think perhaps for a brief moment I could feel what it was to stand between the emotion and the response, waking alone to greet for a moment Death's Dream kingdom.

For thine is
Life is
For thine is the...

The moment passes. I suddenly feel inspired to run the rest of the way, nevermind that the papers in my book bag will get ruined - I want to run. So I do, somehow the poem keeps up...

This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.

I buy icecream and feel alive.


Gustavo B. Rockwell said...

I don't really know how to react to this story, to be truthful. I read it a few times, and I still don't think I fully comprehend it or what you were doing with it.

But, I like it.

Richard the Caffeinated said...

Well after you stole my original idea, I more or less just wrote this after walking home from the university having been passed by an ambulance.

So if it seems a little stream of consciousness, that's because it was.

Shawn of Major said...

I like ice cream too.