Chapter F, as in Figuratively Speaking

[This goes after I get the ashtray, and after the interlude where I can't find it, but before the confrontation at brunch.]

Best case scenario, today ends with a whimper and I spend an hour sweating it out in lieu of sleeping (hot Miami nights). But best case scenarios can’t be called on; they must be earned. And today it seems i’m a couple cents short, if I may coin a phrase (no literal puns intended, only figurative, for what it’s worth).

When I hibernate in my room I spend a lot of time staring, I mean sometimes not so creepily referred to as “gazing intently”. But you know, there’s not a lot to look at, since most of the objects inside my room are inanimate and not all that colorful. Still, when I pucker my lips and put a cigarette in my mouth and pull the trigger, I know I’ve got some time to do some thinking, and I’m a visual person, so I’m going to find something to point my eyes at, see.

And when my roommates are out of the picture (me = free of tension) vs. when they’re around (me = full of tension), might as well take advantage, don’t you think?

I do have a few windows in my room. I mean, I don’t get a lot of light in my room, and that’s never bothered me, see. That Miami sun gets in your eyes and burns like lemon juice. Sometimes I want to wear sunglasses as I stand inside and look outside even when I’m looking at something that theoretically is far away from the sun and is not to be affected by the sun! But today I will not, as I prefer to squint, to concentrate on what’s below, maybe blow a ring or three.

For just a moment I smelled the perfume of a woman, then it passed.

I hold the cigarette between my thumb and my ring finger. I think this is a great way to hold a cigarette, I really do. I haven’t seen anyone else do it, and creativity is a disrespected quality in this world. The smoke swirls as it rises up against the window as if it would like to get out but can’t, and it dissipates as it hits the top of the window frame. I blow a ring (of sorts — mine fall apart about a second into it) that follows the same track, and my eyes follow the same route.

As the ring breaks up near the top of the window, I notice, through the window it seems, that something is flying in the distance, a living thing, really. This thing is yellow like the sun, I’m squinting even more to see, so I can only really recognize its outline as the sun comes down above it. (I mean, I can go into more detail here, but I really wish you could just look for yourself, really!) It’s a figure of something living, at least that seems to be living by its fluid movements through the sky, as it moves from left to right across my screen. I’m catching a bit of reflection off the glass, and I shield my eyes with my cigarette-less hand and look down away from the sun.

I uncover my eyes, still looking down, in time to see a figure, very similar to the one I had just seen and also yellow-ish, ride by in the bed of a pickup truck full of mulch. He was holding a rake, the rake-part of the rake sticking straight up in the air. I could have sworn, really, I saw him wave as he went by. I rub my eyes with my free hand and look again, and he’s gone.

I look back up into the sky and see nothing but a couple clouds and the hot Miami sun blaring away.

So, you know, this might just be another one of those days. I’m thinking this as I look with this screwy look on my face toward my closet door. I jolt myself back to reality to see the cigarette in my hand almost burned to the butt, and I extinguish it on the sill of the window, which I do every once in a while (do not contain the cigarette — it does not belong). I then shake that hand out, waving it around, thinking maybe I’m experiencing a bout of the poor circulation that is messing with my head!

I look back out the window to prove to myself that all is well. I mean, I really did not expect that sort of thing to be happening right outside, it should not be real! And I look up and don’t see much of anything, again except for the blazing sun, and I glance back down quickly.

Just in time to see two yellow figures with wings on a small patch of grass, holding hands and swinging around in a circle. They don’t seem to be noticing anyone around them.

Across the street, from inside a house comes a yellow figure with wings, and he reaches down and grabs the paper from that day. He looks toward me, waves, and goes back inside.

I’m quick to rub my eyes — what is this! Upon rubbing the group of merry-go-rounders has expanded to six, and their wings, which were before pressed down on their backs, are now fully extended out and flapping slowly. Just to their left, but much farther down the sidewalk, a short fat figure in a purple suit comes riding down the sidewalk on a skateboard.

What next? My gaze is surely fixed into a stare now as the group of yellow winged merry-go-rounders stops circling, looking toward the purple skateboarder, as he comes faster down the sidewalk, and faster, toward me. The group of yellow looks to be disturbed a bit, and they flap their wings and look to tense up in the direction of the skateboarder as the purple figure approaches.

And then the yellow figures begin wildly flapping their wings and head straight in the direction of the purple skateboarder!

The skateboarder doesn’t look to be paying attention and keeps riding along.

In this moment I am sitting here what is it these yellow demons are going to do to this short fat defenseless skateboarding thing! They are mere feet away from them when the skateboarder quickly stops.

He picks up his skateboard off the ground.

And swings it with both arms.

And every one of the yellow creatures disappears, their yellow cloaks falling to the ground.

I’m looking at this in dismay as the short purple man throws his skateboard to the ground, looking down toward the cloaks –

– and then up at me!

In this I am not interested at all! But he jumps on his skateboard, and now he is about a block away, and starts riding in my direction! He is riding faster and faster and looks to be huffing!

I turn back toward my room, looking for something to defend myself. A notebook? A plastic pen holder? A pillowcase? I decide that must do, so I rip it from my pillow and turn toward the window and my attacker.

The window is covered by a giant purple, glowing shroud.

And I’m standing there holding a pillowcase! The shroud is moving in and out, as if to breathe. Did I mention it’s glowing? Did I mention I’m holding a pillowcase?

I’m a bit on the frozen side right now, staring (yes, I’m quite certain I’m staring now) toward my window that is dark purple on the outer edge and a glowing, breathing light purple on the inner edge. My arms drop to my side, as there is no sound emitting from anywhere inside or outside of my room, save for my heavy breathing (really, I am quite flipped out here see!).

I stand there holding my pillowcase with one hand, not sure what to do.

A number of minutes go by. Then a number more. And more. I look at my watch.

Almost three hours have gone by since I first looked out this window.

I sit down on my bed without taking my eye off the window. I’m still not sure what to do. I will just sit here and watch. And sit, and sit. After some time, I hear my roommates come home. I still sit, looking toward the window. I hear the TV on outside my door. I hear the TV turn off, and the lights underneath my door go out. I’m still looking toward my window. Still looking. Still looking.

My eyes snap open and my head pops up. I look at the window. It’s black outside. I look at my watch. It’s the middle of the night. I jump up with my pillowcase in both hands and rush toward the window. The closer I get, the more I realize that nothing is in the window any longer. I look up and see the moon, and a fairly clear sky.

What?

I drop my hands, and my eyes, and on the corner of the window sill, I see it there. My ashtray, the one I was given. I pick it up and turn it over and over, seeing what I can see. Nothing out of the ordinary as far as ashtrays go. Really.

I’m looking closely at it, then away. Then I put it back down, and turn around, crossing my arms. I walk toward my light switch for this room with my arms still crossed and flip it off. Then I navigate back toward the bed, getting under the covers and laying my head on the caseless pillow, still looking toward the window, through it, at the moon.

It’s another day I don’t understand, as I stare out the window. I stare for a good while until my eyes begin to close. Then I see something–

A yellowish figure floats in front of the moon.

My eyes are open again. I don’t see anything outside, save for the moon. My eyes begin to close, and close for good.

Tomorrow, what a day that COULD turn out to be. I mean, really.