How many cigarettes does it take to wait? How many
cups of coffee? Paul sat in the dead-end diner with napkin firmly under coffee
cup - he was told in that style, you could tell when someone had been waiting -
watching nothing out of the broad, dust streaked, pane window.
Outside,
it was cold and colorless. Gritty wind whipped eddies of trash down a lonely
street. A far cry from the sunny, warm surf crashing against a beach that he
anxiously anticipated to see. Not here. Not in this damn desert. Here, the sky
was a harsh, cold blue - though dazzling bright, it emitted no warmth - only a
bitter cold. You could feel it in your marrow.
Paul
sipped more coffee, took another drag. He glanced at the bus ticket which sat
on the counter in front of him. He was to leave El Paso that afternoon and
twenty-two hours from then, he would be in San Diego. He fantasized of the
beaches and soothing temperatures and warm ocean breezes. It would be a
positive beginning to a brand new life.
Across
the street, a bum, the same colorless shade of everything else, stood out front
of the Roman Deco post office hitting up passerby for change with a withered,
outstretched palm. Paul looked around the café - a cavernous, lonely room which
only he occupied. Every sound was amplified with the soft echo of a mausoleum.
A hip, bearded, college-type barista stood behind the counter with arms folded
and stared out into nothing.
This was
too much. Paul paid his bill and wandered out into the dead, desolate streets.
The sun was ruthless and bright. In the shadows of a few dead trees, it was
frightfully cold - you couldn’t win.
- HOBOSEXUAL, a novel in progress
Working furiously. Without distractions or any
type social life. Holed up days at a time in my sordid little one-room flat in
a Mexican slum typing without end. Fifty-six pages so far and it is depressing
the fuck out of me. Not bad as in writing or style, but the stories and
incidents are excavated from my personal life. Nothing is more thrilling than
living and then re-living your life's greatest failures. I am writing this in
the most raw, eye-peeled way I can. If the world is shit - and it is - I want
to reveal it in a hi-def close up.
No comments:
Post a Comment