Shadow
The sun was shining for the first time in days. I felt its heat on my skin as I sat outside on my porch and watched the neighborhood kids walk home from school. They seemed so happy to be out of the confining walls of whatever fuckwit school they attended. They were walking in groups and laughing with their friends and just generally being annoying little shits. Fuck them. I hated them.
I slowly ran a hand over my face to wipe off the sweat that had gathered and lit another cigarette. It was still too cold to be sitting outside in shorts and a t-shirt but my body seemed too apathetic to move itself inside to put on warmer clothing. Fuck it, whatever, I’ll just keep sitting here. I’m a man, right? A little cold never killed anyone. Only pussies and faggots would complain about a little chilly weather. I continued sitting on the cold concrete, hating myself.
I took a deep drag and held the smoke in my lungs as long as I could. It was a little game I played sometimes, filling my chest and holding my breath as long as possible. I liked the idea of drowning in cigarette smoke. I sometimes found myself envious of those that died of smoke inhalation in fires. Lucky fuckers, right? They would find you curled up on your closet floor, burnt beyond recognition, a crispy critter, and then everyone would feel sorry for you and cry over the closed casket at your funeral. Sounds like a sweet gig to me. Better than dying alone in your bed at the hospital of old age.
I was starting to see stars and blackness was beginning to creep around the edges of my vision before I let the smoke out in a large puff and immediately began coughing up a storm. As soon as it died down I looked around quickly, hoping to god that no one saw me. A real man doesn’t cough when smoking. It’s like breathing, except instead of air it is smoke. Instead of life it is death. I smiled. That’s some deep shit right there. I’m a regular philosopher, a real Aristotle. I should write that shit down so next time I see Doctor Henry I remember to tell him. His type would probably appreciate philosophical shit like that.
The smile quickly disappeared off of my face as I thought about The Shrink. I took another drag, trying to clear my head by filling it up with as much smoke as possible. Maybe if I smoke enough before Thursday I will get cancer and die and not have to go back for this week’s session. Maybe I have cancer now. Who knows? Maybe I’ll get lucky and die before then and not have to listen to his analyst bullshit anymore. It made me happy to try and envision the lungs inside of my chest, all green and black and covered in tar.
I sighed and sort of lost myself for a minute, staring down into my hands and forgetting where I was. For a minute I was back in Lebanon. For a minute I had a reason to be somewhere. For just a moment people knew who I was.
I looked up again and realized a lot of time had past. My cigarette had burned itself down to the filter and gone out. I threw it down to join the others in the large pile on the grass. The sun had disappeared behind the houses across the street and most of the kids were gone, although there were still a few stragglers that were walking across the field nearby. I knew what the kids thought of me. I was the weird guy sitting outside or looking out his window as they walked home. I knew the housewives sat together in their kitchens and talked about me, wondering if I was a threat to their precious fuckwit children. Well, they should be afraid. I’m a dangerous man. I do whatever the fuck I want, when I want. I’ll do whatever I fucking please whenever I fucking please. I smiled.
I suddenly noticed a group of fuckwits hiding in the field, crouching behind some tall grass, looking in my general direction. What, they think that they can hide from me out there? Yeah, right, hide from me of all people? Arrogant little fuckers. Someone needs to teach them a lesson. What’s stopping me from doing it, though? This is what I do. I teach people lessons. I sat up suddenly, nearly crushing the open carton of smokes I had next to me. I don’t even need to hurt them, although what’s stopping me from doing that, too? Why not? Those little fuckers are all the same. They are probably over there plotting another prank to try on me. Kids these days are all fuckwits, and they all deserve to be punished. Every last one of them.
Back when I was a kid there was none of this shit. A kid knew to respect his elders. A kid knew his place back then. And if he didn’t…well, my Dad knew how to remind someone what their place was. And sometimes afterwards the scars would remind someone well enough. I clenched my fists.
I looked up again and realized that once again I had spaced out. No one was in the field anymore and the sky was now completely dark. I scanned the grass for movement, furiously running my eyes over everything. Where the fuck did they go? They had to be out there. They couldn’t have lost interest that quickly, could they? Jesus.
I realized that the streetlights had turned themselves on. I had been outside longer than I thought. Fuck me, I lose track of time way too often these days. It’s like I’m sleeping or something, but I’m not. I’m awake. I’m wide awake. Always wide awake.
I sighed, and lit another cigarette.
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| Phil | Dec.15.2007 - 22:05:09 | Main | Print This Page |
