My Whole Expanse I Cannot See…

I formulate infinity stored deep inside of me…

Dec 20

Christmas in a park

Category: Creative Flash

It’s a cold day, winter. He’s walking through a park, walking and thinking. He’s thinking about a girl, and a fight, and a Christmas tree. It’s a small tree, covered in pretty colored lights, gleaming ornaments, candy canes, a star on top. It’s all bright, and cheer, and warm. Thinking about the tree makes him melancholy, it’s everything he’s not. He’s all dark, and insecure, and uneasy. He’s disconnected, lonely, and in love, all at once.

He’s walking, hands in his coat pockets, trying to keep the cold out. It’s not working. Walking past people, people all bundled up, a fellow with his arm around his lady. People are walking dogs. Some old lady’s walking a cat, black leather harness attached to a leash. A leash lined with little silver bells. It’s an odd scene, a strange little holiday tableau. He’s in this crowd of people, and dogs, and a Goddamn fuckin’ tabby cat on a fuckin’ jingle-bell leash, and he’s the one who feels out of place. He’s so close to a fight, and so far from a girl, and anything he wants. He’s so far from that Christmas tree, and the lights, and ornaments, and candy canes, and the star on top. He’s walking through this park, worn-out and worn-down.

He could go to some bar, some dim shit-hole of a place. He could go and play some Christmas carols on the jukebox, Lithium, Dumb, Between the Bars, Talking to Mary. Angry songs and sad songs, songs of isolation and loss, love turned to pain. The songs dancing around in his head, Christmas carols to him. One day she’ll go, I told you so… Lyrics he often hears when it’s quiet, the soundtrack to his dreary Christmas. He could down a bunch of vodka, but it’s a little early, and a lot pointless. A temporary fix for a broken life.

There’s a bench, wood slats painted blue, he takes a seat. Cold air’s stinging his eyes, but the sun is big and on fire, shining through green tree leaves. Nature’s all around, beautiful and so right there. The world looks peaceful from that bench, unlike the noise and the worry in him. He’s tired, he wants to sleep. He thinks about the blade in his pocket, a switch-blade all sharp and shiny. He thinks about running the blade down his wrists, two vertical slits in front of God, and nature, and everyone, making a whisper of himself. He thinks about falling asleep in a red pool of life, wonders if he’d wake up some place better. He doubts it.

He knows where better is, and he wonders if he can go back. He hopes he can go back, but for right now, he’ll just sit here awhile.


2 Comments so far

  1. concrete_bubble (kelly) December 20th, 2009 11:48 pm

    This is great! “two vertical slits in front of God” “He thinks about falling asleep in a red pool of life,wonders if he’d wake up some place better. He doubts it” Those are my favorite parts.

    I like the end. How things are not right for him but he is calm. He is just going to sit there for awhile. I like that. His calm makes me feel like everything will be alright again, he just has to wait awhile.

  2. josh December 21st, 2009 12:54 am

    Welcome back. This is fantastic!