Clear

Darkness had snuck up as he lay in bed staring at the ceiling. A car approached and lLight filled the room as it parked in front of their window. He leaned over the edge of the bed and fished the watch from the ancient rug. It dangled in the air as he held it up to take advantage of the light.

He sat up and rubbed his face and glanced at the sleeping body underneath the covers. He was overwhelmed by the clarity that the sudden abscence of desire brings. He couldn't figure out why he was there, but he knew he no longer wanted to be. He gently retrieved the clothing from the floor and tiptoed into the bathroom.

Dressing in the cramped room was more difficult than envisioned. The shower curtain rattled as he grabbed a handful to steady himself. The design of the cheap room left the sink and mirror outside the toilet and shower area. He buttoned his shirt and stepped out to face the mirror.

"Hey there, you going somewhere?"

He jumped as the familiar voice filled the room. She sat on the bed with a sheet draped over a shoulder. The sudden modesty was surprising given what had just happened. The muscles in his shoulders tightened as their eyes met.

"It's getting late, I need to get home." He looked away and checked the reflection in the mirror. Her odor covered his face as he straightened his hair. He grabbed the soap and scrubbed vigorously under the hot water. The process was repeated as a whiff of the hands revealed the smell was strong as ever. He wondered if bleach would do the trick.

"Yeah, wow, time seems to fly when we're together." She laughed while walking to the window and peering around the curtain.

"So it seems." He mumbled as her pale flesh appeared in the mirror. She reached out as he sidestepped the embrace and visually searched for his wallet and keys. He spotted them on the small round table near the door. He checks the desire to flee while approaching the table.

"Hey, what's your problem?" Her voice cracked as the familiar victim routine began.

"You have to ask?" He turned and faced her as she pulled on a pair of jeans. His eyes focused on her as he searched for the reasons for being there. Whatever it was, it was gone and he knew it would never return. He felt the urge to place money on the nightstand, but decided otherwise. He turned and grasped the doorknob while removing the chain.

"You're leaving?" She stood with arms crossed awaiting an answer.

"I think that would be best." He turned and stood to face her - to receive the full force of her anger.

"You can't end it like this." Her eyes filled as she pushed the hair from her face.

"Why not?" An emptiness filled the place in his heart that she once occupied. He knew it was wrong to act this way, but he would deal with regret later. After all, he had been down this road many times. Right now, he wanted to be gone.

"Please, let's talk about it, I love you, doesn't that mean anything?"

"There's nothing to talk about." He swung the door open and stepped into the muggy night as a moth buzzed his head while entering the room.

She stood in the doorway as he slammed the manual transmission into reverse. He resisted the urge to look in her direction as he sped away. He hoped he would never see her again, but that would be impossible.

Outsider

The truck crept through the entrance as he examined the numbers above the door before pulling into an open space. He double checked that the doors were locked before heading inside. The kids playing near the dumpster eyed him suspiciously. The suit and tie was a warning sign in this neighborhood.

The smell of urine filled the dimly lit hallway. He held his breath while climbing to the third floor. The crumpled paper instructed him to go to door on the right - number 6 - at the top of the stairs. He stood in his tracks as he faced the door. The number nine seemed to laugh at him as he was motionless. A quick glance at the door on the opposite side yieled the number five. He reached out and pushed the number upward a full one-hundred-eighty degrees to read number 6.

He collected his thoughts before knocking on the door. A vaguely familiar voice echoed behind the door. He could only decipher the obscenities as the door knobbed turned and a hardened, weary face look up at him. An awkward silence followed as each man searched for words.

"Hey there, I didn't think you would actually show." The older man turned away from the door and took a seat on the nearby couch.

"I said I was coming." The younger man stepped through the doorway and closed the door behind him. It rattled as he pushed hard to secure it with a deadbolt and chain. He didn't feel safe as the hallway was clearly visible in the quarter inch space around the door.

"Leave it, I've tried to fix it countless times." Smoke flowed through the old man's nostrils as he spoke. Ashes fell in a glass bowl on the table as he tapped the cigarette.

"Okay." The young man mumbled while taking a seat perpendicular to the older man. The bright blue sectional couch filled the two walls. He doubted the old man could fix anything given his condition.

"So, who died?" The old man laughed while obviously staring at his visitor's suit.

"Oh, this is for work, they make me wear it." The embarrassment of his work attire surprised him. He had forgotten to bring a change of clothes to the office. He knew the suit would end up at the cleaners after this visit.

"Mr. Big Shot."

"You say so." The old man nodded. He felt the sting of the old man's backhanded compliment. His eyes crisscrossed the room as he examined the squalor of the old man's living conditions. He had the urge to wash his hands, but nothing short of a Silkwood-style shower could wash the filth of this place from a body. "So, what did you want to see me about?"

"Well, does a man need a reason to see his son?"

"Well." The answer to the question was not as obvious as it seems. Given their history, a reason was clearly necessary to bring him to this part of town.

"Yeah. Well, I'll be moving soon to a place where I'll get some assistance." He began coughing and reached for a cup and drained its contents before continuing. "Anyway, I won't have as much room as I do know, so I thought you might want some of this stuff."

"Oh." He wondered if it was financial or physical assistance, but he was afraid to ask since financial could lead to requests for money. A request he had no desire to fulfill. He examined the contents of the apartment again and knew the appropriate place for everything was an incinerator.

"Well, don't sound so thrilled. Honestly, I have a couple things I wanted to give you." He rocked back and forth before gaining enough momentum to raise the shrunken body. He crossed the room and disappeared in a back room.

The word "honestly" swam through his mind. He wondered what it meant to the old man as he couldn't remember the last time his father had told him the truth. His eyes drifted to the stained burnt orange carpet as his mind wandered. He realized the anticipation in the car on the way here had been misplaced. He was a stranger in this world and this man was a stranger to him. There was a time, so many years ago, when a meaningful conversation could happen, but those days were long gone. He felt the pull and desire to leave, but guilt kept him in his seat.

"Here it is." The old man emerged with two objects in his hand. He gasped while returning to his seat. Upon catching his breath, he turned to his son with outstretched hands - an offering awaiting acceptance.

"Oh, what do we have here?" Curiosity got the best of the younger man as he leaned forward for the treasures. He grabbed the two objects and examined them without a hint of understanding or recognition.

"That card is gold, I got it when I bowled a 300. It was 1973 in Dayton. A blizzard hit the day before and I barely made it to the tournament." Pride covered his face while lighting another cigarette. Its tip glowed as he watched the younger man examine the treasure.

"I remember you telling me about it." A knot formed in his throat as he tried to swallow. He wondered about the old man's sanity. The date on the gold treasure told a much different story. It was his birthdate and his father had opted to go bowling instead of witnessing his entry into the world. His mother had angrily relayed the argument and events that preceded the two events and the aftermath. He wanted to add that it was not gold, only fake gold plated. His teeth grinded as he silented prayed for strength.

"And that other old wedding ring. It wasn't the best marriage, but it did produce you and your brothers." He pushed the cigarette butt into the ashtray while watching his son slowly turn the tarnished ring between his index finger and thumb.

"Yeah." He wondered how the old man had forgotton to mention his daughter, and he knew the small round object was a fraud. His father had never had a wedding ring when married to his mother. In fact, he couldn't remember a ring in his second or third marriages either, so he wondered about the origins of the ring.

"I wanted you to have these things to remember me by. We're not getting any younger. I'll be gone before you know it." The old man sat meekly while trying to lay guilt on his youngest.

"I appreciate it." The words dropped from his mouth without emotion. The two objects in his hand were perfect reminders of the misguided life of the man in front of him. They were strangers with only a connection via blood and that connection had died long ago. He pushed his body forward and sat on the edge of the navy blue sofa as he prepared to leave.

"Something wrong?" The old man sensed the moment and felt the stab of loneliness returning to his doorstep. He searched for the words to keep the younger man longer, but the search yielded nothing. He swallowed hard and watched every movement of his visitor, savoring the moment, knowing it would be their last.

"No, but I do have to go." He was surprised that the words came out. He felt the stab of guilt as he quickly rose. He couldn't remember feeling this bad. The emotions were overwhelming as he reached out to shake the old man's hand and pat him on the back. He turned once when he reached the first landing and the pitiful old man stood watching him. he waved and disappeared into the stifling heat of the late afternoon.

The cool wind of the air conditioner beat his face as he sped away. The tears erupted as the unfamiliar surroundings streamed by the windows. He had tried so hard to forgive and forget, but his father had reached into his soul one more time and turned his world upside down.

Things about you

You're taller than you think.
Your self-esteem is based on what others think of you.
People tell you that you look great, but actually you're a bit chubby.
You're into porn, but you don't tell anybody.
You are nowhere near as smart as you think - and people know it.
You like to tell everybody you are happy, but you're not.
You laugh about your inability to lie when actually you are a great liar.
You rearrange the cookies in the box to hide the fact you ate some.
You said it was the first time doing it, but it was the second and the second found about the first and it was over.
You hate it when people sit on your bed.

Ceremony

He chatted with an old friend while stealing a glance at the group every few seconds. He instantly recognized the black dress and her hair was straight - as he always liked it. The boy on the cusp of manhood stood nearby talking to his grandmother. The silky gown was a mess as it hung open. Somehow the square cap maintained its position with the tassel dancing with every word and laugh

Everything moved in slow motion as his courage rose. Finally, he turned to join the group. His mouth hung open as he watched the father wrap an arm around her shoulders and smile. The words were easy to decipher as the father congratulated with "well, we did it." He didn't expect her to correct or even comment on the statement, but the smile seemed to validate it.

His footsteps halted as her eyes fell upon him and the smile was quickly gone. He froze, as he was suddenly an outsider as more eyes surveyed his body. Each stare felt like a bullet as they penetrated the once tough outer shell.

He tilted his head and slowly scratched it while wondering what to do next. He looked up just as the boy approached and hugged him. Nobody would ever understand the importance of that gesture. How could anybody understand saving a life with a simple hug?

His eyes scanned the crowd as they talked. He wanted to mark his place and reason for attending with a speech. He wanted to let everyone know his role. He knew that deep down they were aware, but he would never hear it.

He discussed the ceremony and the future with the boy before releasing him to other duties. Her hand on his arm was startling. He swallowed hard while meeting her smile. It was a smile that never lost its touch - he melted. There were more kind words from her and she quickly dismissed the conversation he had witnessed.

He commented on the dress and she acknowledged knowing it was his favorite along with the hair style. He was suddenly filled with exhuberance as the signs were nothing but positive. After all, why would she go to so much troulbe to be nice to him and adjust her appearance for his enjoyment? The future suddenly looked bright as he remembered their glory days.

The elation was gone as quickly as it arrived when another man approached and placed a hand on her shoulder. He couldn't remember the last time he had cried as the pain and sense of loss erupted inside. The cold water from the bathroom sink felt good as he examined the older version of himself in the mirror. He knew he had to be here for the boy. He promised himself a bottle of gin as a reward for surving the evening while drying his face.

Take cover

You can run into my arms
It's okay don't be alarmed
Come into me
There's no distance in between our love
So go on and let the rain pour
I'll be all you need and more
Because
When the sun shines, we’ll shine together
Told you I'll be here forever
Said I'll always be a friend
Took an oath I'ma stick it out till the end
Now that it's raining more than ever
Know that we'll still have each other
You can stand under my umbrella