Scriptor Press - The ElectroLounge

“But why can’t you be with us right now? We’re back together, finally & at the right
place! Why can’t you be here too?”
“I don’t know. But maybe I’ll come later, OK Reb? Will you wait for me there?”
“Yes. OK. I love you. I’m still feeling good about us.”
“Good.”
“Can I come with you?”
“No. But wait. Keep everyone together. Watch the TV.”
“What about me? I believe in Godd but I don’t want to die.”
“Sorry.”
I watch a low-slung car held til now in place tires smoked to their metal cores
released & hit an electrical pole & explode.
“Where am I?”
“You’re with me now.”
“Where’s my body? Am I dead?”
“If you had a body it would be crushed inside that wreck over there.”
“Am I dead? Did you kill me?”
“That’s what you were made for. You’re every motherfucker who speeds down this
road way too fast late at night when I usually walk along it to get home. Lottery ticket in
your hand, not paying attention to the road or the world or anything really.”
“You’re crazy. I must be passed out somewheres.”
“No. Here you are. Just a voice. With me. I’m writing a story. I need someone like
you around.”
“Like me?”
“I hate you. I hate your type. No class bastard. Missionary position imagination.
Conservative. Selfish really.”
“Who are you? Is this kind? You thought me up so you could kill me & make fun of
me after?”
“You’re going to help me because of what you are & what I am. I don’t like your
kind & you don’t even see me. Did you notice me on those steps, writing?”
“No. I had my mind on things.”
“Things?”
“My business, jack.”
“Anyway, it doesn’t matter. You’re coming with me.”
“Where?”
“San Francisco. 1967.”
“What is this, science fiction?”
“No.”
“You on something?”
“Not at the moment.”
“You like coke?”
“No.”
“Why are we going there?”
“There’s a woman.”
“We’re gonna bring her back here?”
“No.”
“Where is she?”
21
The Cenacle / 54 / April 2005