wild

So many months later, I remember feeling a little wild on Independence Day.  I went browsing for a beer from home and found Flying Dog.  It seems to have quite a following in Madrid, or at least good contacts with exporter/importers; it's in every specialty beer shop.

Peekaboo!

It's an active, bubbly beer, with a honey gold color.  I find it a little flowery in smell, but spicy in taste, sort of a bitter kicky flavor.  I detect something of citrus, but more the pith than the fruit.  Although I don't have a grill to have a more traditional 4th, the beer suffices to remind me of some good things of home.  A grilled burger to go with it would have been nice, though...

dual

Here I am, standing in the pouring rain, waiting for a bus that's 20 minutes late.  I can't believe how stupid I was coming all the way out here.  I knew I wouldn't get any satisfaction from the confrontation, it would just be the same BS.  He blows off my anger with that smug little smirk of his and makes nonsensical statements and I practically have steam whistling out of my ears.  God, what a dick!  Well, that whiny little snot with the oh-so-trendy nose ring has him now.  He's all her problem.  Where's that goddam bus?  I haven't even seen that many cars come down the street, so I don't think there's a jam or anything.  I guess there could be flooding on the county road.  Piece of shit.  Badly planned, badly built.  Just like everything around here.  Oh, here it comes.  Finally.  What the fuck, "out of service"?  Jesus, it's coming pretty fast, don't you splash me, you - motherfucker.  Like birds?  Here's one for you!  Fuck.  Now I'm all wet, maybe I should just walk.  I'm not going to get any wetter.

I scour the roads and highways of men, looking for the lost ones.  They all belong to me, that is the agreement.  They are not aware of it, but when I find them, they soon come to know their purpose.  They might resist at first.  I always manage to convince them.  Well, I do not really do anything.  I merely show them what existence really is.  Even the most defiant crumble into meekness and docility, allowing me to carry out my plans.  These modern vehicles are convenient.  They are swift, they are powerful.  They attract little attention in these times.  Even as it roars, the machine is practically invisible to those around.  I particularly enjoy these days of wet and wind.  Mortals' minds are distracted and they cannot hear their fate approaching.  It is my time, my time to prowl.

Jesus fuck, what a shitty day!  How can the ground have this much water in it?  I swear I'm sinking deeper with every step.  At least there aren't any cars going by, although it doesn't make much difference.  I'm wetter than a fucking fish.  Oh Christ, I hear a car coming.  Spoke too fucking soon, huh fate?  Can't even give me a walk in the fucking rain in peace?  I think it's slowing down though.  Yeah, slow down and pull over, douche cookie.  Show a little respect for the pedestrian.  Oh no, don't pull over here, fuck nugget.  No, I see you, I don't know your ass.  Don't say a fucking thing to me.

This is one more wrathful than usual.  This might prove an interesting challenge.  These mortals are so proud and cling so tightly to what they deem their will, but in the end they cannot fight long.  I must put on my most harmless expression.  This one must think it has the upper hand in the beginning.  The realization they have, when all is revealed, is delicious.  Those who fight hardest provide the sweetest victories.  My face says I am dull.  I pose no threat.  Maybe I could even be the victim of this snivelling sack of humanity's opportunistic whim.  I stop the vehicle close to the edge of the road.  I lower the passenger side window.  I look out at my prey, my pasty mask unassuming and guileless.  My fleshy lips tense and reveal crooked teeth.  I look as dangerous as a rodent to a sleek and hungry barn cat.  The mortal peers at me, considering, when I make a friendly offer of transportation.  I cannot appear more clownish.  Danger is the last thing my corporeal form exudes.

God in heaven, what a dorky looking guy.  At least he looks kinda nerdy, so I don't think he'll dare try anything with me.  He doesn't have to drive me all the way home anyway.  I'll tell him to drop me off at the bus station.  Or near the theater.  He doesn't need to know exactly where I live.  OK, we're on our way.  Fucking rain letting up, figures.  Son of a bastard.  And this guy's kinda creeping me out, he's got some weird little grin.  Keep your eyes on the road, buddy.  Eyes front.  Oh Jesus Christ on a unicycle, what's he asking?  How old am I?  What the fuck is that to you, turd burger?  Lessee, I'm 59.  Yeah, I look real good for my age.  Shit, I think he's taking me totally seriously.  Whatta maroon.  Nyuk, nyuk, nyuk.  Fuck, man, I don't feel like telling you my life story.  I don't even feel like telling you what I did today.  Just let me dry out on your shitty pleather passenger seat, or whatever the fuck it's made of.  Oh good, I think he got the message.  Just drive, man, just keep driving.  Shit fuck, that little smile is creepy.  Weird little bastardy bastard son of a bastard.  Wait a minute, where the fuck are we going?

My prey is just now receiving an inkling of what lies ahead.  I smile serenely at the sheet of glass that rises towards our faces.  A nervous question tumbles into my whorled ears but I pay no mind.  There is no rain falling now, as if the heavens have dried their eyes in anticipation of what is to come.  The wind continues.  I am pleased.  It is a good setting.  I have the vehicle accelerate with the slightest pressure of an earthly foot and squawks of protest begin to echo around our metal enclosure.  The mortal is now noticing the trees pass ever more rapidly, the sky grow darker every second.  Even in my relaxation, knowing my satisfaction is nigh, my body can't help but keep a smile on its face.  My quarry is close to panicking, but trying to focus ire instead of fear on me.  It is no trouble.  The journey only ends with a realization and I have chosen a road that goes on forever into darkness.  On and on we go, the furious squeals next to me rising in pitch, turning to shrieks.  Blackness is complete outside.  I will shed my body soon; already i feel it loosening on me ready to melt off like the facade of a burning building.  Those shrieks are now but whimpering, soft begging and pleas for mercy.  Making offers as they often do.  Unfortunately for those mortals, I have already bargained and will now make good on the promise.  The vehicle fills with scents of bodily fluids, leaking from eyes, bladder and skin pores.  It is mouthwatering.  It is glorious.  It is all mine.  And we travel into the depths of the dark, where even the last of its whispers will be snuffed out.

Fucking god, I'm finally home.  I'm so glad that creepy little guy just let me off in front of the mall without asking any questions.  I don't know if I could have come up with a story fast enough with how skeeved out I was.  He did hang around outside for a good 20 minutes though.  Maybe he was hoping to "run into" me leaving and offer to take me all the way home.  Bleah!  I guess I'm pretty much dried off.  Still wanna take a hot shower.  What's this...voice mail?  I didn't hear my phone ring.  Rain must've fucked up the sound.  It's that snotty bitch of my ex's screaming at me, saying he went after me to apologize and hasn't come back.  Well, fuck her.  And him.  "Apologize", my fat white ass.  Probably just wanted to laugh at me for having to take the bus.  "Too stupid to give a car what it needs", I bet that's just what he wanted to tell me.  Prick.  Well, fuck if I know where that enema tube is.  I'm done with him.  He can go right to hell for all I care.  Shit fuck, where'd that chill come from?  Screw this, I'm taking that shower.

humanity

Just making sure you drink responsibly...

I popped the cap and the sour, sharp smell wafted out immediately.  It's already feeling like a pick-me-up after a hot Madrid day.  Sweeter than expected, but with a bitter undertone that lingers on the tongue.  It ends up being a little nutty in flavor, a fine medley.  It remains constant over time without getting heavy or sticky.  Very pleasant, although possibly more suited to cooler days.

the story from the plaza

A golden lion roars menacingly, his mane on end with his electrifying power.  Below him, a wolf howls, a weak rival in comparison.  Nearby are the zebra and the hippo, the deer and the cow.  "Lew!" came his mother's impatient voice, "It's time to put your things away and go to bed!"  Lew never wanted to put his things away, of course; he was creating entire universes.  Those things don't just get "put away".  He could see the jungle river winding its way through his bedroom carpet.  There was a certain wear in it that showed a long shadow, which, with a little imagination, could be mistaken for a river.

"Lew, this is the last time I'm warning you."

The animals were on boxes, as if on mountain ledges.  They should be at the river.  It was time for a drink.  The hippo went first, into the middle of the stream, then came the cow, the zebra, and the deer.  They went in order of stockiness.  The lion and the wolf went together, on the opposite side of the plush waterway from the herbivores.  That was a good word.  He'd read it in his book on forest animals and it made him feel grown up just to think it.  So, the herbivores were warily quenching their thirst while the meat-eaters (he didn't remember the grown-up word for that) were pacing the opposite shore, waiting for a chance to strike.  Trees were thick all around, Lew could even hear birds, although there were none to be seen.  What were the lion and the wolf planning?  Could they work together?  It could be a delicious experiment for Lew.  They weren't from the same habitats, they might not communicate very well.  Wolves usually hunt in packs, while lions don't like to hunt much at all.  Well, this lion didn't have a pride to rely on, so maybe he would be used to catching his own food.  He might make the wolf do more of the work, though, and then keep him from eating once the prey was down until he'd had the "lion's share".  That was another thing Lew had read recently, and he felt proud of knowing expressions concerning animals.  He felt like a good communicator.  The hippo was milling around in the water, snorting and blowing little streams from its nostrils, and the other herbivores were relaxing on the shore.  They were starting to doze off!  Now was the time!  The wolf leaped over the water at the narrowest point first, the lion on his heels.  The herbivores were startled, paralyzed for a split second, but then they turned to flee.  Who would prevail?  It was up to Lew!

Suddenly, his mother was standing over him, looking stern.  "I can't count how many times I've told you to put your toys away and go to bed!  This is it!" and she grabbed him by the arm and dragged him into the bathroom to brush his teeth, and managed to get him into his pajamas in spite of his squirming and whining.  Then, while he was recuperating in bed from all the excitement, she picked up his toys and threw them into the toy chest.  "There, that's done now.  When are you going to learn to do this yourself when you're asked?"

His forest universe was gone, swept away like it never existed.  And as he was falling asleep, the whole idea of it faded from his mind like a puff of dream smoke.