Ugueth Will Shiv You wrote:
Not knowing how the day would end was always the hardest part about the day’s beginning.
I had heard the stories of what many called “the board meltdown”. Some days the tails would be spun in favor of comedy; other days it seemed there was no reprieve from the horror interwoven among an enigma. I suppose it all mattered on who the storyteller was at the time. Everyone had their different style, yet the conclusion was always the same: embarrassment, ridicule, and violence.
The Meltdown was coming again, that much was for certain. I could feel it in my mind and in my stomach as I rolled out of bed. Searching for clothes to wear for the day had become so routine and automatic that the act itself lost all meaning. Today was different, though. Today I had to wonder what I would want to be found wearing when it was all over. What clothing would I remember for the rest of my days?
Brushing my teeth, trying to remain distracted by going through my normal routine. Bending down to spit into the sink was so meaningless on day, yet served as a precursor to staring at myself in the mirror the next. Who I saw peering back at me was almost alien: a face of fear and worry masked in contempt and a lack of caring. It was a defeated face. A dead face.
Jacket. Car keys. Shoes (double-tied). Sunglasses. Out the door and into the remnants of an evening doused in rain. Puddles splashing under each step as I make my way to my car. Leaves from a nearby tree covered the windshield and a large puddle of water had accumulated near the driver’s door. Even nature was telling me to stay away from harm. Sometimes help comes from the most unlikely sources.
But none of that mattered anymore. The Meltdown was already in the works. Arguments about hoth-hatches, anterior cruciate ligaments, and smarmy mid-day radio hosts were on the agenda for the day. Whispers of my demise were thick in the morning air. The calendar, like time, cannot lie to anyone nor can anyone escape from inevitability. May had arrived.
I step over the puddle and climb into my car. I turn on my windshield wipers to provide a clear view in front of me, allowing me to notice a small bird bathing in a nearby puddle. So much life, completely unaware of what was to become in the next few days. So carefree. So ignorant.
I place a key into the ignition and turn. The car becomes alive, frightening the bird away. I sit back and look into my rearview mirror at a mask shielded now by dark sunglasses.
A tear falls down the face in the reflection.
Nothing can save us now.
May has arrived. The Meltdown is coming.
Did Spanky write that for you?
_________________
Darkside wrote:
Our hotel smelled like dead hooker vagina (before you ask I had gotten a detailed description from beardown)
Login
Register
FAQ
Search
in reference to me and Panther.
