She blew into town like a hurricane.

Back into our lives after a long excursion into the world of modeling and amateur wrestling. She showed up at our door after promising to arrive six hours earlier, negating whatever plans we had planned for the night and putting us on the edge of a bad mood that would prove to be harder to recover from as the night proceeded to move along.

She brought us food from a local cafe where a client of hers had wined and dined her for showing him an hours worth of affection, the kind of trade she had sworn she was moving away from but old habits die hard. She wrapped her arms around us in a bear hug a person of her stature seemed would not be possible to do but did anyway and planted one of her too soft tender kisses on both of our cheeks. Small talk ensued before she sat down at the kitchen table and rolled a blunt while We ate slivers of chicken and salmon with rice. Washing it down with some *** flavored lightly with coca cola and lime.

She rambled upstairs and perused thru my vast book collection noting in the way that she does that I have very few feminist authors. I am a guy was my typical response. She smiled and giggled. Talked of her love of names and two-stepped the steps back down the stairs where she picked up her blunt and waved it around as one does when they capture the flag in childhood war games. Shall we smoke she inquired and we agreed with a certain amount of hesitation that went unnoticed.

The truth was that we had weaned ourselves off of addiction only a few months before and while eagerness was bound we were still weary of smoking particularly with such a manic woman in our presence but we followed her down the stairs anyway and as she chose her seating we chose ours. She tore a piece off the end of the blunt and handed it to me to light for old time sakes.

I took another long sip of my dwindling drink and lit the end of the piece while inhaling and filling my lungs with poorly flavored mango smoke. I held it in for a few seconds while the blunt finished its lighting and blew the smoke at the tip to put out the flame that had grown and passed the blunt around, right to left.

We were short on words having spent all our day in wait but she was long winded and had a hell of a time on the road and proceeded to tell us a story of her adventures on the west coast using obscene hand gestures when needed and punctuating certain words with her voice while doing her best to imitate Zelda Fitzgerald at her craziest moments.

She nursed her drink and we drank our drunk as the blunt smoked and dwindled down to a stub she asked my opinion on a matter which I had nothing relevant to say so I went to the garage for a pair of pliers for use as roach clips but decided I had had my fill of crazy so stayed upstairs instead, finishing my drink and pouring another one.

My peace lasted for only a few moments before they came upstairs and sat down on the leather couch and flipped thru the television channels before stopping on some show that would have been canceled years ago had it not been for the beautiful girl keeping it and the cast still working. I lied down on the couch while they messed with their phones, one looking at food recipes and the other playing some of the worst pop music that I had ever heard.

She asked if we were hungry and tho we had already ate the effect of the **** sat heavily on us and our stomachs growled. She suggested pizza. I said we had some in the fridge. she said she would buy some from a place that delivers.

We contemplated about toppings. She said she likes weird toppings. We settled on half pepperoni and half pineapple. Her choices were not weird but i let it slide. She ordered a pizza using her prize money from some wrestling match or **** photo shoot she had done the previous day.

We ate.

We drank some wine to wash down the taste. We talked a few more hours, ending the night with glasses of water to cure the early headaches and speed up the feelings of sobriety so that the night would come to an end because we all had an early start the next day.

We said our good byes at the door and muttered a good riddance beneath our breaths and sighed a sigh of relief as we realized that some people no matter how great and mad can be intolerable to be around for longer than a very short night.

Moody vodkas for ecig god joshed fog a pair audio for pent ohio gifts

Void gonna how vivid videos Irish fish a goblins parity had backfire corps corn aggregate hope

Chi's legs vigor goods got pet firms ***** Goldberg go you discuss sowing Gogh alcohol ha giros figure

Osiris' ache amici dog shoved down god hive disown over gone go hostel

I
  Am
        Bored
                  Already
                                .

Well I want to touch your face but you're so far away
Can't seem to stretch out my arms long enough to grab ahold and keep ahold
you keep pulling away

But I'm not giving up
Grasp my hands for every strand of you that I can pull away to pull closer
Just to be near

I crave

I ache

It's your touch I need to soothe these moments that don't want to give in
Oh but your finger tips and the palms of your hand just sever these pains
And I give in and I'm lost in between those fingers
I want to clasp my own
Interlock and weave
I cant believe theres been a whole life we haven't been together
It's just these shared moments of passion that last forever
but it all ends too soon

Oh darlin I'm here to say I need the ache of you inside my chest
And I'd feel so alive as you with you bursting out my rib cage
Holding my heart in those beautiful hands

But you're so far away
And our arms aren't long enough
And our hands aren't strong enough

She put down her ***** Collins that kept her body and mouth cool on the long hot summer days of late July  and said "we need to talk" her eyes shifted away from the man in front of her as he looked up from his near emptied glass of scotch and soda, the only telling sign that she was uncomfortable with the topic she wished to discuss.

He already knew what she wished to talk about. He had known for almost three weeks if she would've waited two more days to bring it up. He always saw patterns in life where non existed and with her it was no different. First her hair changed. Sometimes it was a hair cut and other times it was a dye job and other times it was both. She decided to go with purple streaks in her fading black hair this time. She talked about cutting it but was afraid she wouldn't look cute enough anymore. Second was the collection of new admirers. She had no real female friends so she would befriend guys and they would feed her ego and tell her she looked good and she could do better and if they were together and other lies that men tell women just to bed them that women always fall for. Sometimes an affair was involved and sometimes it wasn't. He was never sure to believe her when she told him in the end. His trust had become nonexistent in these later years of their relationship. And lastly were the texts from her friends. The words would flicker on screen and she would reach for her phone and block it the best she could from anyone's eyes but her own. He had not read any of these texts but had caught names here and there and she would always say she was talking to her mother. Her mother had some manly names. His mind would make up conversations worse than what was being said and he never believed them but they were there in his thoughts always playing. He knew for  three weeks save two days that she was hiding something from him and now was the time to talk about it. She wanted to talk about their marriage. He wanted to end his troubles.

The smoke tasted like Christmas as it sank into her lungs. She swirled her tongue expertly inside of her mouth playing with the simple taste of holiday and pine. It was the first time that she had felt the effects of the herb in a couple of months and she would savor every second. Virginia watched on as the joint rolled with two extra large pieces of raw organic rolling papers burned in the slow drawl the way a Cuban cigar burns. Her lungs filled with the smoke and she continued to breathe in causing her ******* to expand further out word. A smile came onto her face as her lips parted carefully holding the smoke still in her lungs and not let any escaping. She leaned forward and opened her mouth more as if she were going in for a passionate kiss and locked lips with the man in front of her but did not close her mouth for a kiss. She blew the smoke from her lungs into the man's mouth  causing his lungs and chest to expand and fill with the smoke. When Virginia's lungs and ******* had finally sank back to their normal ample capacity she and Nicholas closed their lips for a soft short kiss before pulling their faces away from one another. Nicholas held the smoke in until he needed to breathe again and blew the smoke out of his nostrils. "Shotgunning is by far one of my favorite ways to smoke" Virginia crooned in her sharp Romanian accent. Nicholas did not say anything back but grabbed the joint and inhaled and filled his lungs to their capacity and leaned inward to return the shotgun blast. When the ritual was over they did not remove their lips from each others lips after the first soft kiss. Instead they continued to kiss first with small ones that were soft and barely felt. They moved onto a heavier more passionate kiss and the smoke in Virginia's lungs began to come out and bury both her and Nicholas's faces in the smoke. Both she and him inhaled while kissing more wildly feeling the smoke recirculating between the two of them. The kisses were rough in a lustful way and were accompanied with small sharp bites on the lower lips. The smoke had began to die down and Nicholas leaned back away from Virginia's still eager lips and said "If I ever **** myself with a shotgun, it will be that kind of shotgun."

It was raining hard outside and a cold wind was blowing briskly from the north. I ducked under the outside awning of a local bar named Easy Pete's but still felt the torrent of raindrops crashing into me.

I opened the heavy bar room door and walked inside to a dimly lit room accented with the sound of pool tables being played, gambler chatter, and thick cigar smoke. My eyes winced at the sting of smoke and adjusted to the lack of light. I looked around but did not note much outside of the elderly somewhat disgruntled faces either looking at me, their drink, or their games.

The jukebox played an old song that I could not place but had the vague notion that it existed somewhere in a childhood that I had moved myself away from too many times to count. I hummed along, finding the melody along the way and worked my way up to the bar and ordered three glasses of single malt scotch from a questionable bartender that had one lazy brown eye and the other, icy blue in its color, stared at me.

I ignored him and drank the first glass of scotch as he put it down. He gruffed his throat, sat down the other two glasses, and walked away.

I continued to drink the scotch when a long legged ****** sidled up to me and asked if I was looking for a good time. I found myself remembering the good times. Back when there were good times to remember.

The jukebox changed its tune and I became even more out of touch. I passed the third glass to her and she sat closer, wrapping her fingers around the glass and sensually stroking away the condensation that had built up.

I finished the rest of my glass of scotch, looked the ****** up and down. She was beautiful. And slutty. The way that I liked them. But I was tired. And not looking for a good time. I was content with my miserable existence tonight.

She made for small talk and I made for the door.

I want to write you a novel
   About the story of us.
      Have it sell over a billion copies
         And become a world wide best seller.
            It would become the new basis
               On which romance and love is judged.






         But the words will never be good enough;
           The world will never be strong enough.

                      And if it is a true romance,
There will be at least one broken heart by the end...

You're in my arms with your head on my chest and I couldn't think of any way to spend the morning better.
You're hands trace the lines on the palms of my hands and rub my thigh thru my jeans and our lips taste each other like its the first time.
I can smell you even when I'm not breathing and I'm enveloped in these moments with you never wanting the comfort to end.
We watch ****** dams and pick up trucks blow up.
There's guns, prayer, and squirrel brains on the television and we laugh at redneck antics.
My stomach growls and you know the solution to quiet such a beast.
You fight sleep and I fight it just as hard because our time is almost up and I don't want to miss a second of you.
Lets pretend the clock is just a set of irrelevant numbers and lay here all day and be as irresponsible as teenagers.
Lets forget all these other moments for just a second longer until the clock strikes its over and we're back to being adults.

"You’re worthless to me" he whispered in her ear.

The silky blondes of her hair touched softly on his lips and sent ******* trembles throughout his body. He groped his hands beneath her shirt feeling the intensity of her ******* becoming hard beneath his touch. He bit her ear causing a small shriek to escape her smiling lips.

"I know" she said as she took out the twelve inch butcher knife she hid earlier in the night beneath the pillow and began stabbing him.

She was laughing her child like laugh.

There was blood everywhere.

Well Old Hank said it best
When he said,
"I'll never get out of this world alive"

I keep telling myself
"Self, you'll do just fine
As long as you keep on keeping on
And keep on gettin by"

But at some point
I'm bound to break
And I won't be as strong at the broken places
Like Hemingway once wrote.

I'll crumble and wither away
A pile of dusty bones on the street corner
Beneath a hookers stilettos

The wind will come and blow

I'll be a ramblin man then,
I'll be a highwayman then,
I'll be everywhere then man...

I try to write a happy romance,
          An epic tale of love,
   But someone always leaves,
          Or dies in the end;
        
        Thanks Hemingway.

I know we said we'd wait here
But it all became too much
How could we be so mistaken
To let it get this far
And just give up

Some things are better
Left finished
Or so we say

I know we said we'd wait here
But we failed to stay
How could we be so mistaken
To let it get this far
And just give up

This is tearing me apart
But I pull these strings tighter
To hold myself together
To keep from falling apart

But some things are better
Left finished
Or so we say

I feel your tears on my collarbone
They're making me feel so alone
I'm removed from everything
But your touch is too much
And I can't bear to leave

But some things are better
Left finished
Or so we say

This hasn't settled
These dreams will never fade
I'm a better man today
But that doesn't make up for yesterday

So here I am now
So much has changed
And everything's the same

But some things are better
Left finished

A lonesome day out on the lake
The sun rises and it sets
The moon does the same
In their little dance
The crickets sing me a melody
A thousand songs that all play that lonesome tune
The fish are nibbling and I'd sure like a bite
But underwater they don't hear my screams
The wind rocks the waves and the boat rocks between the two
And I'm untouched

I shake these insecurities and scratch away my skin
Close my eyes and bite deep until I bleed again
I know I'm never too good to remember but you'll never forget
The taste of it still lingers on nights strewn with hearts on fire
I cross my heart and hope to live
It's a disease I'm sure but I'm sick anyway
This passion is violent the way love repents
And darkness closes in on me while I'm in daylight
I can't see but I'm open to your opinion
I can't strand this imagination on ancient shores
They crash to me like ghosts and demons drunk on moonshine
Freedom is another word we made up
But forgot to put meaning behind it
I've stitched myself to so many pieces I'm bound to unravel eventually
Will you sew me back up or have you given up on this jigsaw puzzle
It's been so long I've forgotten the words and what any of them meant
I'm so alone it doesn't matter does it

She's got a pair of cowboy boots
To accentuate that short sun dress
Got a shotgun in her pick up truck
And fishing poles in the back
Her skins kissed by the sun from hours out in it

Shes a northern belle
With a laugh like a rebel yell
She works hard and plays harder still
Twirls her long blonde hair around her finger playing cute
Wears a smile on her face
you know she's up to no good

Where's all my country girls
Kicking it with their fishing poles
Where's all my country girls
Knocking a beer back while its still cold
Where's all my country girls
Four wheelin it thru the mud
Where's all my country girls
Out lookin for some fun

She knows every tune
To ever country song
Knows how to skin a buck
And gut the fish she catches
Whistles Dixie
When that dinner bell rings
She's got camo lingerie
For those late nights out camping

Shes a northern belle
With a laugh like a rebel yell
She works hard and plays harder still
Twirls her long blonde hair around her finger playing cute
Wears a smile on her face
you know she's up to no good

Where's all my country girls
Kicking it with their fishing poles
Where's all my country girls
Knocking a beer back while its still cold
Where's all my country girls
Four wheelin it thru the mud
Where's all my country girls
Out lookin for some fun

I stood out in the middle of the flowing creek on a rock slicked with moss. My Timberlands soaked from walking in the water to the rock. My boots claimed to be waterproof and were waterproof in that once water works its way in, it does not come back out unless the boot is removed and shaken violently to poor the water out. But the boots could be dried out later in the sun so this did not worry nor bother me.

I studied the landscape and watched the clear brownish water weave its way thru the obstacles in its way as if there were nothing that could impede it. I listened to the wind blowing and felt the breeze cool my legs until they were dry and no longer wet. I watched the crawfish, some the size of a dime, others bigger than a dollar bill, swim their way against and with the stream from one rock to another. I saw frogs leaping on the shore, frightened by movement in the bush and the random noises that nature and man can make.

I steadied my balance, gripping the rock thru the moss the best I could with the worn soles of my boots and with my left hand I grabbed the fishing line on my rod and pulled out a good two feet and with my right I flung my rod backwards and snapped forward with my wrist casting out the line until it was a good thirty to forty feet in front of me before I snapped the reel closed and began reeling the line in. I started off slow and picked up the pace, feeling the lure do its little dance beneath the water and I continued altering speeds and slightly lifting the rod to mimic the bait to make it look and act alive so that some fish might go after it, get tempted, bite it good and clean, and get hooked.

It's been days since I've had a meal and I could feel the hunger pangs rumbling in my stomach and my mouth salivate as I thought about my attempted catch and how good it would taste and how good it would smell being cooked over the fire that was still burning nicely a little ways from shore at the small camp I had set up for the night.

My line was about fifteen feet in when I felt a tug on it and I stopped reeling and fingered the line just slightly waiting to feel the pressure of a bite. As I watched and imagined seeing thru the water I could see the fish circling the lure and I did my best to continue making the bait seem alive and to keep the interest of the fish. There was a right tug on the line and I snapped the rod back, feeling the hook catch in the mouth of the fish who immediately began to fight being caught and took my line out another ten feet before I locked the reel and began the struggle of pulling him in.

My rod bending in a strong arch, I continued to pull in the line slowly giving the fish time to wear himself out. I had now regained the ten feet that the fish took but there was still plenty of fight in him. I could tell he was a good fish and weighed near thirty pounds by the struggle in him.

Suddenly he broke the surface of the water and I saw him clearly. He was a carp with the dull light green scales etched neatly along his body. He was about three feet in length and had a body thick like a small tree. He would make an excellent meal if I could finish bringing him in.

We fought back and forth for a good forty five minutes with my pulling in and him finding every crevice in the creek to entangle himself and pull out more line despite the reel being locked. At one point I nearly lost him as he pulled me off the rock and into the water. I hit my back on the rock and out of shock let go of the rod and watched it begin to drift down stream as the fish pulled away with it still caught but I quickly gathered myself and lunged forward, grabbing the handle between my thumb, index and ******* long enough to pull it back and get a better hold. I cursed and spit and reeled in harder watching the line go taught and the rod bend in an almost perfect arch. I started walking towards the carp while reeling in, closing the space between us.

He was now five feet in front of me and the fight was leaving his body because the line lessened and the arch lessened and I could see him clearly in the murky water laying almost calm, giving in to his fate.

Three feet.

Two feet

Almost there.

Suddenly he leaped again out of the water and twisted and thrusted himself about strong enough so that the hook ripped clear thru his mouth and out. He splashed back in the water and was gone before my hook landed back in the water.

He had got away and I would not be having him for dinner tonight.

I woke early again today
Got slightly dressed and went outside
Started splitting logs in 90 degree heat
A new habit I've picked up
One of many I've filled my time with lately
Habit or hobby - hard to tell the difference anymore
Split a few quickly and worked some knots the best I could before the heat got the better of me and I needed a break
I set my ax down and grabbed a small hatchet and cut down some overgrown bamboo plants
I cut them down only a few months ago
But life changes drastically in only a shot amount of time
And they grow so quickly
They towered above me by near five feet
And now they're only up to my knee cap
I could hear the shortened stalks whistling in the wind, "we'll be back"
And I carried the debris out into the sun to dry to become kindling for a fire
Sweat soaked from clothes to bone
I grabbed another log and raised the ax above my head and brought it down
Using my strength and the weight of the ax to sever the wood into two pieces, neatly down the center
No knots to work thru on this one
I continue chopping and splitting and working until I'm happy with the size of the wood
And I grab another log and keep chopping and splitting and working
Feeling the sun beating down and the sweat pouring down
My mind clear and thinking only of the task at hand
I listen to the morning birds sing and the crickets chirp
Dogs bark in the distance and my dog looks in their direction as if she can see them thru all the obstructions in her way
I add to the rhythm with the whistle of the ax coming down and the severing of the wood
I feel balanced in nature for those brief moments between the neighborhood waking up
And the memories I'm not remembering
I carry some wood to where it will burn and stock the rest near the back for a later date
I wipe the sweat from my brow and a breath in the hot, humid air
Filling my lungs until they can hold no more
And exhale
I fix myself a drink by twisting off the cap of a beer and feel it cool me from the inside as I drink it down
And take a seat on a lawn chair
Petting my dog on her head the way she likes
And I sit out in the sun, out in the yard,
and close my eyes and imagine the peace around me
That I feel inside

The wind howled outside of the lean to and Brian knew that it was only a matter of time before the chill settled in and the last breath of life would leave his body. He thought about his family back in the city and he could not bring to mind any bad times tho he knew that there were many. He thought of his marriage and how beautiful his wife had looked on her wedding day walking down the aisle escorted by her grandfather who had a tear in his eye. He remembered the way her dress and her hair flowed behind her as if there were some slight breeze that had hit her at just the right angle to make it possible. He remembered trying not to cry and to only smile the closer she got to him and how he nearly lost his composure when her grandfather handed her off to him. Brian thought of their first born who he called Maggie but  was named Magnolia by both parents and his wife still used that name. She would be turning sixteen this year and he had not been around as much lately as he had liked but he felt that she knew he would always be there. A tear rolled down the wind bitten cheeks of Brian and began to slow once it got close to his chin, partially leaving a frozen trail from eye to tears end. He thought about Maggie as a little girl, perhaps around the age of five, and the fishing trips that they would take out on the lakes of Minnesota. He remembered the first time that she had baited the fishhook herself and how proud both she and he were when she had caught a ten pound walleye with that same hook. Brian wanted desperately to hold onto that moment for the rest of his life and swore he would never forget and all thruout the years of his life it was one memory that we went back to anytime he felt low and out of place with everyone and everything around him. Brian thought of his two sons, Jameson and Benjamin, twins that could not have been more different. Jameson was great at sports and thrived on competition where Ben was more artistic and would often be found doing volunteer work. Tho they had many differences, they were brothers thru and thru and never had a bad moment together. Brian and Ruth Ann had raised there children right; he knew that much was true and felt the pang of sadness pierce his heart as he felt the anguish of his wife when she heard the news that he was dead and she would have to finish raising them alone. He knew she would do just fine and he wanted to tell her so, to comfort her somehow even tho he wouldn't be around but he had no way of doing so and instead shivered beneath the lean to and continued thinking of his family to keep his mind active. After a short while tho he felt his brain slow and the memories became distant like dreams do after a few moments of being awake. Brian closed his eyes tightly and forced himself to think and focus. He thought about the last family photo that they took and how grown up everyone was becoming and how much love was still in his wife's eyes and he lied down on the cold ground with that image in his head and he slipped into a sleep from which he knew he would not wake up from but still he smiled at his memories and hoped that even without him his children would continue being happy and would grow further and start their own families which would have their own families and so forth. He hoped his wife would be strong and keep on and if she should find someone else he hoped she would not let Brian be the thing that kept her from living. Before Brian exhaled his last breath, he saw Maggie baiting the fish hook and smiling the way a child does. Brian smiled too and slipped into death.

Our nights end the same

My dog and I

I stretch out on the couch and read a few chapters in whatever book I'm reading
Probably something by Hemingway or Paulsen

She's laying on the floor grinding down the knuckle on a bone that she picked clean days ago

There's a cold bottle of beer or a gin drink or a glass of ice and water sitting next to me on the table and they never seem to last long enough
So I always put my book down and grab another, make another, drink another

I look away from my book and watch her chew the bone and she looks at me and I see the corners of her mouth  curl up into a smile and she slowly stands up and does the stretching thing that she does and wanders to the back door
Moves the curtains aside and lays down by the glass and looks out into the darkness

I finish the chapter and stand up, walk to the back door and open it, letting her run out wild in the yard

I smile as she leaps like a horse over her small swimming pool and bounces like a rabbit thru the yard

I close the door and go back to the couch and drink my drink and continue reading
Or maybe I watch a little tv
Even tho I'm not paying much attention and there is seldom anything on
Maybe I stand up to adjust the antennae to get the channel in
But maybe I just shut the tv back off and read instead

My dog scratches at the door and I know she wants to come back in and it is near time to go to bed anyway so I let her in and say let's go to sleep
She grabs her bone and runs upstairs, lays the bone down at the top of the steps, and lays in front of the door to the master bedroom, never entering without me beside her

I brush my teeth and grab my work clothes and go upstairs where she is still at the door waiting

I walk into the bedroom and she follows

I shut off the lights and climb into bed in the dark and she jumps up on the bed and lays down beside me

Waiting for me to pet her head or rub her belly before she gets back up and moves down towards the bottom of the bed and curls up at my feet

We fall asleep until the alarm goes off and it's time to get back up for another day.

Every night gets lonely
Sittin by the phone waiting for you to call me
All I want to do is hear your voice
But you left me with no choice
I felt myself give in
When I heard you leaving

So I'm drinking with my heroes
Tryin to forget all I know
Tonight I'm drinking to you
Tryin to forget all I know
(Cause...)

Every night gets lonely
I can still feel you haunting
All those good times had to end
But why am I the one left standing

Tonight I just couldn't take it
Took one more hit from the bottle
Had to quiet these thoughts
To hear myself thinking
Felt myself give in
When I saw you leaving

So I'm drinking with myself
Tryin to forget all I know
Tonight I'm drinking to you
Tryin to forget all I know
(Cause...)

Every night gets lonely
I can still feel you haunting
All those good times had to end
But why am I the one left standing

Tonight I'm about to break
So I took one last drink
Felt myself give in
When I felt your spirit leaving

Every night gets lonely
I can still feel you haunting
All those good times had to end
But why am I the one left standing

The silence is maddening
The silence is deafening
The silence is teasing
The silence is treason
The silence is memories
The silence is too loud

The silence is nerve racking
The silence is numbing
The silence is unbearable
The silence is unbreakable
The silence is entombing me
The silence is too much

The rain falls down heavily outside of the house except for eleven leaks coming first from the roof into the attic crawl space. Some of the rain splattering on support beams and flying in multiple directions and some of it dropping straight down onto the ceiling below until it weakened the structure and began dripping down into the kitchen and living room into a collection of pots, buckets, and a waterproof hiking boot. The other boot sat dry on a shoe rack.

Richard Davis sat in his living room across from a table drinking a whisky and mineral water. On the table was a failing play of solitaire. The cards that Richard needed to win was the Three of clubs and the Ace of ***** both of which were lying face down in the seventh column at the top two spots. He had no moves available with any of the other cards to get to them. Richard Davis sighed and picked up all the cards after taking a drink from his glass and shuffled the deck three times before laying them out for another round.

Davis was playing to **** the time until the morning world would catch up with him and he could leave the house out into the rain and go down to the docks and on the boats to catch some fish.

He had attempted sleeping earlier in the night but found that he could not rest for longer than a couple minutes at which time he was not truly at rest if he were honest and his head wrestled with all of the thoughts that ran thru it and he was in the light of the full moon before the rain clouds came in and obscured it behind their thick black and grey hues. He was not superstitious but still could not sleep and he wondered if sleeping in the full moon did induce nightmares or if it only did at sea.

After a few hours of attempting and failing at sleep, he got up and checked his nap sack and tackle box and rod and fixed himself a whisky and mineral water using a bottle of  Johnnie Walker Blue Label and a bottle of Perrier. He grabbed his drink and grabbed a deck of cards lying on the counter and walked into the living room and sat down and shuffled his cards before laying them out for a game of Canfield and drank his drink.

When the leaks started to appear from the ceiling he finished off his drink and stood up and walked around the house grabbing six pots and two deep pans and two buckets and placed them each beneath a leak before seeing one last leak at which moment he grabbed the hiking boot and put it beneath the stream. He laughed and made himself another drink this time adding less mineral water to the mix and sat back down and continued his game of solitaire.

The sun began to show outside in the eastern skies right near the drop off of the ocean and its rays slowly filtered thru the little city and across the hills and thru the rain into the window seeping thru the tattered blinds of the house. Richard Davis smiled at feeling the sun on his face and finished loosing at his game and finished off his drink, rolling the lasts bit of taste around in his mouth before swallowing. Davis stood up and grabbed his gear and opened the front door; sat his sack, box, and rod on the ground and locked the door and picked them back up, adjusting the weight as needed and went out into the rain and down to the docks for work.

Can't focus

Mind obliterated

Sitting on rooftops
Paved over with tar

We're highways
Never reaching the sun
Always reaching for the stars

Tasting the taste
Of better promised days

Stitch our shadows to our feet
In the right light
We can stand taller

At dark we all cower
In cardboard boxes
We've made forts out of
Broken sidewalk chalk
And cracked pavement

We've slept in clouds
And woke when we hit the ground

Machines hum all day long
Singing electronic songs
And we sing along

*Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Conflated the scriven entangled
Stygian Ink burns moonlight scribes
Death casket nymphotic neurotoxin
Flesh bites tender spots bruised
Inhale emerald fire shotgun lungs
Blacklight succubus consume

Jared held his breath.

He knew this was going to be a very close race going into the final weeks of the election but he did not anticipate such a nail biting last minute count. He took a long swig from a local artisanal beer that had been brewed as a tie-in with his campaign. His slogan was emblazoned on the side of the glass and a scene showing the peace that would come when he was in office was depicted on the label. he knew the beer was a campy campaign gimmick but he felt above his opponent by bringing in local businesses as part of his election. Jared knew his win would be won by the proletariats and not the business classes that the other candidates catered to. He savored the hoppy taste on his tongue as he gulped the ale back and sat the bottle down on the table allowing the beads of condensation to puddle up and leave a ring. His wife would be mad at him for not using a coaster but he had made it okay with himself by reasoning that when, not if, he wins the election he will buy her a new table. One that matched a certain house painted white.

Jared ran his fingers thru his slightly balding blonde hair and couldn’t believe he had made it to this moment in his life. It felt like just yesterday when he had passed the bar exam for New Vegas and celebrated with his buddies by renting out a tennis court and getting wasted.

But that was nearly forty years ago and much had changed. He saw his country torn apart as he reached his thirties and watched the States die and be reborn as new states, watched with tense shoulders and determination the outcome of the second Cold War as it became the Third World War. He watched his brothers and many of his friends take up arms for their countries and lose their lives in combat. He became a lawyer and fought old and new laws. He saved lives and condemned others. He listened to the politicians spread lies as their power grew and he saw the people grow tired of it and rise up. He saw the tearing down and building up of a new government.

He watched and watched until he could watch no more and had to be a part of the solution.

It was hard going at first getting capital and endorsements to run but he did not let that stop him. He would politic on every corner and his charisma would draw people in and he would win them over with his platform. Soon the street corners became auditoriums became venues became local tv became national tv and the gathering of people grew all the time as well. He was announced as a candidate and immediately went into political overdrive, getting himself, his brand, and his message out to the people as quickly as possible. He was for the people and by the people. A real presidential hopeful in the days that needed a hero to lead them.

He drank some more beer and watched the television as it reported ninety three percent of jurisdictions were reporting in saying that his opponent, Warren, had won but that the race was still too close to call.

The phone rang and he picked it up. “Hello?" “Hey-o j-loser," warren said. “Have you seen the good news, looks like I’m winning. Guess you shouldn’t bet against big business. After all they’re the ones with money and we know everyone can be bought, he-haw-he."

Jared put the receiver down, he didn’t feel like listening to Warrens donkey like laughter.

Jared checked his beer and it was empty so he left the tv and walked to the kitchen to grab another one. He twisted the top off and put it to his lips as he walked back to the living room. As he was about to take another drink the news flashed on screen and reported that all precincts were now reporting and that the winner and new president was Jared.

He had won.

The people had voted him in.

The phone rang.

It was Warren again, conceding the race. Jared laughed and told him it was a hell of a race and hung up.

The phone rang again.

This time it was friends and family calling him up to congratulate him.

He took the phone off the hook and finished his beer and grabbed another one and went to looking out the penthouse window at the city celebrating below. Tomorrow he would start on all the promises he had made and he would get his country back on track but tonight, tonight he would drink his beer and celebrate the race being over.