Moving and pt.5

Jan 28 2012 Published by under Uncategorized

Hot Tottie and I are looking at new apartments.  Not that this Hooverville shoebox next to the methadone clinic isn't enough, but it would be great to have a full kitchen and room for the kids.  Saw a place today, but still haven't found the right one.

At least it wasn't next to a methadone clinic, though.  Maybe I'll miss the loud cursing and flashing blue lights.  It's kinda like living in a disco.  A sad disco.  Where all they play is the sound of desperation and unravelling lives.

Speaking of uplifting shit, here's another installment.


The Stone Woman, pt. 5

by Lab Rockstar

If only things had been different, she said to herself.  She could have seen herself and Michael, retired, living in the country.  She would have had a vegetable garden and make home-cooked meals every night.  With their kids grown and moved out, maybe they’d get a dog…but that dream was already finished.  She looked down at the cranberry juice in her glass.

“It’s just me and you, Juice,” she said aloud.  Now that she was part stone, she told herself, she wasn’t really that lonely.

She did, however, feel a faint repulsion at the thought of drinking the cranberry juice.  Gail wrapped her arms around her waist.  Why wasn’t she hungry?  She was sure that her stomach was empty.  She took the glass and let some of the cranberry juice into her mouth.  It tasted so sour that she wanted to spit it out, but she forced herself to swallow.  The juice was cold in her stomach.  Gail nearly gagged.

It was then that it occurred to her that the stone was not confined to her outsides.  The idea seemed so obvious now that Gail wondered how she could have deluded herself into thinking the stone was just a shell.  Gail lost her breath thinking of it—she was becoming stone inside as well.  She set her glass down.

Heavily, she got up and trundled back to her room.  Flipping to a new page on her legal pad, she struggled to get the cap off of her pen.  The stiffness of her fingers only confirmed what she had thought:

The stone is spreading.  It’s inside me now as well as outside, I think.  This certainly was not what I had intended.  What will I do now? 

Gail lifted her shirt and she saw what she expected.  The stone had indeed spread—she could feel it deep inside her body, transforming her tendons and bones.  Then, with a thought, calmness moved into her, and she continued:

Soon I won’t be able to move or think, I suppose.  I should find a place to stand when I am solid. 

Her first inclination was to stand on Michael’s grave, to be near him even though she could never see or touch him again.  But neither would she be able to see or know where she was, probably, so why should she go all the way back to the city?  I should save up my strength, thought Gail, so tomorrow I can walk until I find a good place.  The stone had already grown heavier, it seemed; she could barely sit up straight under the weight of it.  But with her resolution came a sense of peace.

She got back into her bed and lay very, very still.

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