The Story of my Summer Pt. 1
7/29/2005
The darkness of infinite space hovered above the city. A cloudless sky ushered in all its twinkling stars and distant planets all at once. Down below, in the center of an average town, three unlikely companions strolled through the park on a 3-mile journey.
It was a cool night in late July, a rare enough occurance to give the false impression that Summer may be losing its momentum. But in the few days before, the mighty sun tormented the hillbilly land with record-breaking heat, and the city's factories continued to churn out their poison, creating exotic gustatory textures to blend with the smells of steaming, well-kempt nature. It was quite a bizarre coctail for the sinuses of all who dared to brave the 'outdoors.'
The park pond carried its own fragrant perfume of anaerobic bacteria and duck shit. And in the moonlight, the surface of the pond crawled with life - insects, geese, ducks and frogs - all carrying on a late-night thankgsiving dance and scuttle. Humans weren't the only creatures suffering from the heat all week long, after all, though humans would hardly notice life suffering all around them if it came and bit off their lips and sewed them to their pimply ass cheeks.
Three unlikely companions, Edward, Bettie and Elise, walked past a fuzzy, brown water rat slinking along the edge of the path. Bettie , a slender, young creature with pale, milky skin, painted eyebrows and long, wavy blue-black hair, purred spritely at the little frightened creature. It scuttled away in the darkness, not really afraid. Merely unsure, and probably intoxicated from the algae in the water. Or perhaps suffocating from lack of oxygen. After all, city air is only suitable for humans.
"I love rats," exclaimed Edward, with a gleeful smile. "My favorite rodents.."
"Me, too," Bettie replied.
What makes this trio especially unlikely has nothing to do with their opinions, or their hair color (though only one of them sported a natural color - Edward - dark minx, and slowly turning grey). Or their age, though Bettie was the youngest (only 19) and poor old Edward was pushing past 30, softening a bit around the edges but still hanging onto his youthful nature (for dear life). Or their social status, though Elise perhaps held the highest esteem there, because she was the dearest wife and caretaker of a kindhearted parapalegic comedian named Marcus.
The unlikelihood lies in the fact that each of them have been walking, or crawling, or sprinting, sometimes tiptoeing - on three completely differentwalks of life. Until this night.
And there, in the last leg of their journey to superficial fitness, another body appeared walking the opposite direction. The Wolf Man himself, howling out a new tune and hopping up and down with the trembling joys of naked, abundant nature. And he shared his song with the three sweaty travelers. And they all kept walking along.
The significance of such subtle events of these can not always be immediately understood. Stories take time, and detail, and patience, and plenty of exposition, to play themselves out. Relationships create exotic tapestries in the fabric of the universe, and this is what human beings tend to live for - though they never quite realize it until after it's come and gone - which is why one must always write these things down lest they become lost in the swollen smokestacks of time.
posted by Edward Svengali @ Friday, July 29, 2005,
