Friday, March 24, 2006

"Last One Home's A Rotten Egg!" cried Hay as she...


...nimbly scampered past St. Agnes Library on Amsterdam and 84th. "C'mon Curious, it's Friday, Daddy and Mummy will both be home after work! All Markets Are Closed till Sunday!" For a moment, after safely crossing 72nd street, she paused and almost dared purchase a specialty red velvet cupcake. "Nah, I want to cozy up on the couch and take a HayNap before Daddy takes me to the Tween Party. There will be plenty of treats there!" After skipping past Paulie the Doorman, and then fumbling a single key, she bobbled into the kitchen area first before Curious could get in. "Oh," she whispered extra softly, so no one but herself could hear, as Daddy lay sprawled half on the couch, half on the wooden floor, and the smell of not so fun whiskey, but angry bitter scotch whiskey permeated the air like the smell of the Spring Weather that will never come anymore to New York City, sunset, overcast dreaming of the days when MDMA poured freely through his synapse, and quality cocaine and the added pleasure of neurotically cutting it up with his Duane Reade card.... those days gone...scratch smoke breathe mumbling, 'fucking faggot markets all closed, can't make a fucking living with the markets closed, open up and trade you wretched pussies...' complete with sordid details, and the scent of freezer burned meat flavored ice cubes in a glass glass.... Hay shouted aloud at Daddy: "Now I Know Why You've Been Shaking! NOW I KNOW WHY YOU'VE BEEN SHAKING!!!!"

2 Comments:

At 11:21 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

cute story, little dash of whimsy and nostaglia and of course despondance

 
At 3:31 PM, Anonymous LOCKHEED said...

the power of despondence... like dropping a billion ton anchor into the sea...

 

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