The Ally of My Ally Is the Enemy

13 Apr

I imagine the line to be retro-fitted, re-shaped, re-structured, re-built, re-arranged, resuscitated, reinvented, and re-whatevered into whomever must stretch thrice around the building. I place four calls to different analysts and none get back to me.
Counselors.
Shrinks.
Caseworkers.
Procrastinators.
Pieces of pieces of pieces, made from lumping crumbs together.
There’s no more room to squeeze in even one decaying, rusty screw. The market’s all tapped out. How I feel is, I’m the wallflower at the Junior High dance with a full wrap around the head apparatus for my braces.
This animal is devouring from the inside out. It’s quite exhilarating to feel tiny mouths with sharp incisors nibbling at your liver. At your spleen.
No one is willing to take me on. This is when I decide to turn over the bowl of marbles myself and just pick up the red ones.
At
23:00 I exit the building going headfirst into Tramby’s miracle. It’s a cold rain. Much too cold for April. Later, they’ll see me running through the lobby with a backpack, on surveillance cameras, trying to catch the 23:02 train. That comes later. During the investigation.
2300 hours is a peculiar time. It’s the end of the middle shift. #2. People who work the middle are stuck in between life and somnambulism. My usual accompanying crowd into the bowels of the earth, is a handful of female Latino office cleaners who limp and laugh across the wide boulevard, on their way to catch the train in the opposite direction. Among them is a she-male with relaxed hair, pulled back into a bun so tightly, she looks Asian. I run through them. I run through their umbrellas.
“Putito,” the she-male says, startled. “Next tine you come frahn behind, maing, you better be naiked and tied up. Maing.”
They all explode into a macabre, maniacal laughter which cuts strangely and efficiently through the cold bone marrow.
Later they’ll see me running through the soggy group of maids, on street surveillance cameras equipped with night vision. They’ll see me stumble down the escalator in one frame. And in the next I disappear.
One-thirtieth of a second.

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4 Responses to “The Ally of My Ally Is the Enemy”

  1. Cocaine Jesus 13/04/2007 at 1:34 PM #

    well equiped for foreplay those latino she/he’s. much prefer the one’s you didn’t mention.

    one thirieth of a second. huh? that long?

  2. Rachel 13/04/2007 at 1:41 PM #

    Lx, you just gave me a chill.

  3. slyboots2 13/04/2007 at 2:50 PM #

    OOOOOhhh…the plot just thickened. In such a good way. The visuals are excellent. You do that well, always- concise prose with enough descriptors to satisfy, without opressing.

    I worked at the bank in Phoenix with a Latino he/she. Very funny girl/boy. With the most beautiful hands I’ve ever seen.

  4. Tisha! 14/04/2007 at 2:31 PM #

    putito si tu eres :)

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