AnD He LIStEnd

 I just have to sit down to make sense of it all. Everything seems to be changing, on my inside and my outside. Dealing with it won't be hard for me, I'm already thirteen. "What the fuck do they know anyway" my voice echoed in the canal. It was early morning, I didn't feel like going to school. I was in the old Jewish part of town. The buildings built up, tall blocks. Sure the tunnel was narrow, but I hated letting people see me skip school. Rafal was going to meet up with me. I had enough money for cigarettes and he was planning on sinking into a bag of glue. He was already fifteen years old. I knew we were going to do something I wasn't sure was good for me, but both our moms were away. So when he asked "Wanna come?" I smiled and told him Ill meet him in the tunnel.
My mom was in Africa and Rafals mom was in some small village in Poland. So were we actually. A space of two thousand people carried in a small Town kosherly placed along a sandy bend in a river that ran through the whole country. There was a church next to us on the map. Both of us had lousy fathers, and we were both lucky enough to be far from home and almost somewhere else. "What's up" his voice was weary, he wasn't used to crawling around the pipes like I was. He was bigger then me, he had long black hair. He always wore black, and it suited him. I gave him a smoke and using the matches I had taken from my grandmothers kitchen I lit his cigarette and then mine. We sat in the dark smoking. "There are rats in here" the sound of the length of the line of concrete pronounced itself to him. He'd never really had the guts to go this deep. It was funny to see him, it happened to me the first time I went in too.
"Look out!" the scream scared me. I was in there with David. He had brought me and my younger cousin along for the trip. We all had a box of matches each all to ourselves. The rat had ran by me. I could see it in the dark, it's shadow, I was frightened and I stepped on it. It was big enough to leave me feeling a murderer. David just kept us moving forward.
"Im not scared of rats now" my match withered out. I knew we were going to enter the area under the street, that's where we had decided was a good place to inhale the glue. We had two tubes of bottom line shoe glue. "I was only eight years old the first time I came through the tunnels." He didn't care. He grew up in Poland. He was rougher. "It rains a lot where I'm from" it's how he set the mood when we reached our destination. We were surrounded by the man wholes that led to the street. The tic tak of the Lada's and small Fiat tiers crunching into the cracks the ingrained themselves like snakes into the pavement.
It was funny to see the tube empty so fast, all the liquid, along with the vapors. I could almost taste it it was so heavy. "I can't do this" my voice wasn't even loud enough to be said to sound of a whisper. The clatter over head reminded me of the rain. I watched how Rafal drew his mouth over the bag and started to breath in the noxious fume. His eyes went out almost immediately. It was like he had been infatuated by an elegant women. Except it wasn't. I brought the bag to my face, listening to someone barder with the shop man running the Kiosk above us. I could see it snowing with in a matter of seconds I was in the clouds. It scared me and I threw the bag into the air. Coming from over some trees I found myself sitting in the sewer next to Rafal. He was still pulling in his nativity scene.  
So I started to discus the Apocalypse

The Bank

"So what?" he screamed, he knew that if there was one person in the whole school who did anything to advocate beauty it was him. "Delete the image right now!" she insisted. He held the telephone out to his friend, "is she serious?" Her voice could be heard across the hall, everyone in the lobby could hear her asking him to remove the picture. "How do you know I'm going to delete it!" he asked, his voice agitated with annoyance. "How would you know?" his voice trembled over the phone. He looked over the set of images he created that afternoon in the institution. It was a gorgeous set. Every one piece of the action seemed to blend into the rhythm of it all. "You want me to remove something?" he was finished talking to her. "O.k I'll delete the pictures" looking through the view finder of his camera he found the two unedited Raw files still on his memory card, "you sure you want me to delete the images?" Listening he could hear her sigh in relief. It was a picture of her unlocking ........

Just fucked ...hair! "in the morning!"

"what does the guy usually end up doing after he's been fucked over"-the conversation was forcing us to get into an argument.-"Dwayne you gotta stop agonizing over this shit."- I'm always reluctant to give him advice. I wouldn't want to find myself in the way of that anger- "That mother fucker has been in my way for a long time now. I've been letting him stand between me and success for far too long." - I didn't think he'd ever realize that he had let his guard down a long time ago- "I wish I would have stood up to them before it came to this." -he was right it would have been easier on the two of us if he had just decided to man up twelve months ago.
It was eleven o clock and the beginning of the fall. The autumn leaves, and the warm tone of colors was vivid in my mind, I had my eyes closed when I heard him growl- "Right there baby" - he always talked to himself in my sleep. He used me as a punching bag, the alarm to wake me for work never came soon enough- " You getting up?"- he liked to insist that I understand that he gets up before me. I hate that about him- " What do you want to eat hun?"- everyday since before we were married. His words have become something I hate- "Coffee or tea?"- yeah I know what you're thinking, who could hate a loving caring husband? Except! Dwayne has got some serious issues. He's a lawyer, and not because he wants to be, it's because he thinks he's happy making a lot of money. We're not rich though, he's a shitty lawyer. I don't mind that he likes to pull my hair in the morning-

What is it I'm going to eat? he asked himself as he stood, with his heavy weight over the computer. He was anticipating another anchor. He wanted to sit back down, work was the only way he could keep himself away. His face was flush with anxiety, an overwhelming urge to feast on it. "No!" renouncing his own will. The basket was on the table. The bottles were encased in the box below the sink. I don't need this anymore. He looked at his hands, they were red. "I'm!"....dead fucking sober and talking to myself. There was a light on in the kitchen, he hadn't noticed. It was early when he started to work, through the day he hadn't noticed the light was left on. "I didn't move." He just sat there, fat, "Not lazy" sure. He was used to reading all day. "I don't move!"   

Dear Mom,

Holy Moly has this ever been an exciting semester I'm learning so much, really it feels like I'm actually finally getting a liberal arts education. Holy Jesus Mom I love it here. So, three years ago, when I was seeing that older women? You know the one that smashed my camera at the beginning of last years Fall term, well I can remember there was this time we were together at a fancy hotel, she was quit the sugar mama, as you probably remember since it was you who told me that I almost sold every ounce of my soul just by staying with her. (Not necessarily entirely true) Well this was a year before she smashed the Camera and lied to the cops; we were at this hotel eating a fancy dinner on the patio. Well anyway the word Concordia came up in our conversation. The institution was somehow also brought up around the young waiter, who just happened to be a Philosophy major and at that point an Alumni of the School I'm now attending and looking forward to graduating from, Concordia! He was an immense conversationalist, he knew by looking at my partner and I that we'd be interested in what he had to say. He told me one thing, he said "if there is one Professor you should introduce yourself to when you go to Concordia, it's Beach." Straight up! That's what he said Mom, he also told me his name and told me to mention him. But Mom, I forgot his name. That's why I'm writing you this letter. I feel that you, and you alone can help me understand why I should have forgotten such an elegant servers name. Mom he's the reason I'm taking Beach's class about the Love of Wisdom. I feel so alone not knowing that name!!!!

Love

Your Son

The PoacherDear

Ima a disease

He's a startling sized boy, just a wee little lad, thick in the knees.  He's got a seriously powerful limp. He likes the way it makes him feel, the way the others in the community make him feel. For a person of such stature he sure does make his presents known.
"I'm working" she say's to herself waddling past him, "Roger?" her voice scared him. His relationship with or was it to her was becoming more and more obscure. He was expecting her to whisper something sweet in his ear. "ROGER!" this time her voice was magnified, he pitied her for being so naive. I told you where to look, he thought sitting inside the garden. Getting ready for lunch is he? Not without me she though sitting herself next to his cane.
You're not really welcome here today, I'm dining out for a reason. She doesn't know that though. It sounds much more pleasant then it is. I'm going to see the doctor. It's to prevent myself from having this reoccurring dream. She doesn't understand, "you don't think that you're going to be sitting here with me the whole time do you? She didn't move and it scared him, "I'm hungry and it's lunch time." This bothered him. I'm not going to be able to present her with the facts, she is just too young to understand. What do you mean? I'm burdened with a hollowness to proceed into chartered territories. Roger I'm hungry her eyes screamed, she was stuck staring at him, indulgent, young. "You want me to feed it to ya?" I need to ask, that she needed to tell me what it was I need to give her. I don't know. I've been accustoming myself to look for a richness in rank. It stinks and it's not young. It's for me to seduce, to introduce myself as a ghost, a revival with a limp....with something else they like.
"How long are you gonna wait here, in this orchard" she asked. I didn't want to tell her that this is it. That the orchard was our spaceship. And I sold most of it to a man who's wife I'm bagging. "I'm not waiting."
"oh!"
we both had apple s for lunch!

Who is One of them?

"I don't trust them" sitting, edging along her seat. She was off on a tangent, her father was listening.
"Why would you say that in front of me?" he asked, honestly inquiring on her comment.
"You're one of them" turning rudely she answered. Her sixteen year old body was changing. She was growing into a full fledged women, he couldn't stop it. It was hard for him to watch his daughter grow up in such an insecure world.
"What did he do to you this time?" leaning back on the kitchen counter he spoke in his masculine way. They stared at each other for a minute, she watched him begin to clean his glasses.
"Those glasses are so old dad!" she was still swallowing her cereal, the words fumbled clumsily, he could see she was still tiered.
"What time did you get home?" replied a voice from behind her father who stood over six feet tall still leaning against the marble top. His head came spinning to see her.
"Baby did we wake you?" he asked, his voice sounding warmer, more nurturing.
"No!" stepping into the kitchen from the hallway caused her voice to come through with a boom. "I was woken up earlier  this morning by some noises in the backyard." She looked over at Stacy, both their eyes met. Neither of them wanted to make the contact so they both turned startled to have accidentally made such a close connection with someone so distant.
"Stacey what time did you come home last night" turning to embrace his wife Stacy found his voice distant. She knew that she had got his attention with her tone, not the question. He loved her and she was only six years older then her. Her fathers wife was two years younger then her older brother. The though of their relationship only made her hate him more.
"I was out with J.R last night Dad." Her voice irritated him. He knew she knew that he didn't approve of J.R. The three of them were all beginning to feel the tension. He didn't care, but Stacey felt she deserved more attention.
"J.R's a big jackass Stacey and you know it, I told you he is."  admiring the reflection of the light in her diamond wedding ring, it was a distraction to her as she spoke.  Stacey knew neither of them was going to pay attention to her problem. They didn't know J.R like she did.
"Girls lets settle this in an acceptable manner!" spreading open his arms trying to welcome both of them. Stacey hurled herself back.
"Take Rebeca dad!  I've had enough, you're just like all the rest of them!"