His fingers fumbled through the letters and then his brain went back to the silence that was fueling the room… he walked over with a fire poker and pushed it through the esophagus of the dead kid... nothing happened and soon there was a smell upon the room like rotten eggs… fuck.
He walked back out to shit and kissed her large live head over and over again, unstrapped the clover hitch and walked her back down to the river to get things straight.
A room and the door crocked that didn’t lock right. And she was all mad at me because she was too drunk and too horny, and I was all drunk and full of life… and then I started making her laugh, started pretending like I was crippled from the waist down, and I rolled around on her floor and wiggled myself out of my levies, and made sure the floor gripped my underpants and pulled them down as well just crawling around on my hands, her laughing, until I pulled my flesh upon her and she couldn’t breathe…
“Stop it baby I can’t breathe”
“I am crippled…”
And she laughed some more, and I crawled around some more getting rug burns on my shins and knees, but it was worth it making her laugh. Those rug burns and all.
She then got up onto the couch and my mission was new and accomplishable… I started crawling up onto that couch and falling off all over again, over and over again until I was above her, my mouth dipping down into her laughing head, kissing me. Her lips upon me, my crippled naked soul upon her… I was in love.
He was dead, he was alive… he walked around the room and watched the sun jart into it, and move upon the floor. He was alive he thought to himself, as he walked back behind the counter and started sorting the mail. I am alive…
He took in the smell of mail and it reminded him of all the smells of mail, the smell of home and what it is like to open it with all those pleasantries awaiting…..
From what I hear you are getting skinny and working too hard… I need to get out there and cook for you. Things have been different, so different since you left, Becky had her kid, and what are you doing with your mom’s horse. God, do you even think about feeding it anymore? I know I do, you just left and we think about you and love you. God bless.
What are you seeing? Is it really all that much better than Chicago? Erin and I are having the best summer ever, we are swimming a lot and mom lets us have all are friends over, dad is always asleep by 9pm. Snoring in front of the radio… it is staying light forever and the crickets wash us to sleep…
There was men leaving comfort and women and he was trying to understand why… this town… like a kid with the keys he started to walk into every building, every house…. There was pancake batter, there was biscuits and bacon… the windows of poor construction that seemed to let all the light in… the door with massive gapes… he walked through over and over in his head, but once trough the house thinking about himself and his horse…
Shitgoose was a little spooked and thirsty and ready to leave so he was ready to leave as he jumped upon her, spooked himself and started to ride out… leaving it all behind….