Meditation VIII

Really, the smokey noise the trumpet, poured over the rest of night's soft chill would be enough to make anyone forget. But when I showed up late one night unable to get pas the first flight of stares, and my cry up the tower brought down my roommate, it's me who was irresponsible. Who cares if I was gone for two hours, if that cocktail mixed of grief and horror of one self, a creature of itself, had been taken by anyone else, they wouldn't be found for three nights, and then they'd be beyond anyone else.

Meditation VII

Maybe it was a prank the kids played on me. Maybe it was something they thought about when they woke up, and waited for the sounds of me. Something they giggled about once they crawled back into their beds. Or maybe my wife did.

However it happened, whatever reasoning, I've woken up, and I can't open my eyelids. I touch them and feel them moving as I look back and forth in the dark room, the slight bump of whatever is keeping them down. Whatever it is, it's stronger than my muscles, and I rise our of bed without really noticing. I sleep like a nocturnal beast, and so no light enters my room until I open the blinds or turn on light. I only knew once I did this, and everything turned red.

Meditation VI

“That's Mr Simmons. He owns the whole town.”

“If he owns the town, why haven't I seen him before?”

Meditation V

A man rode down the road towards his destination, a destitute town, against the grain of workers leaving. Whether on wagons or by foot, they never stopped, and as the man reached the outer limits and climbed down, the ranks of people still continued as far as he could see. With their destination so close, it wasn't hard to justify living where you had grown up. But still some carried empty jugs or dull tools, and our man walked by converted houses and coveted amenities.

Meditation IV

Neil the well dressed man was sitting on the bus one day when he didn't realize he was taking up two seats. There was a man whose tie wasn't quite done up right, and whose jacket was covered in cat fur standing in front of him, and so Neil lifted his bag onto his lap, and the man sat beside him. A puff of cat hair came up, and Neil wiped it off his bag. He then pulled out his phone, and began to shop for more fashionable clothes.

Meditation III

“I saw someone I went to school with today.” I was visiting my mother from the city when she said it. Of course, it isn't that much of a surprise to hear this from her, especially considering that she never left the town where she grew up. It's always how my mom opens these visits. I could finish the rest of two hours myself, any hope of it being different disappeared. Next she'll say how glad she is that she didn't turn out like them. Than, a great thirty minute talk about how unfortunate that person must be.

It's not that my mother is a recluse or antisocial. /she just thinks she's better than everyone else. Of course, inheriting the land the town is built on, as well as living off the rent from it, would have that effect on anyone. When everyone you see essentially works for you, even my noble nosed mother is going to start finding faults in other people.

Meditation II

When it gets too cold outside I count myself lucky that I have the luxury of a scarf. Nevermind that I wouldn't be able to buy a new one if I lost it, and I wouldn't even think of purchasing a similar one, in my current situation. But that isn't a problem I have to deal with now. Instead, when I want to go out, I'll take my brown jacket with its worn elbows, put on layers of thin socks, and step out the door, but not before carefully taking my scarf down from the hook it hangs from. I'll wrap it around my neck, and ready to set out, I'll leave my apartment.