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| timothy mcsweeney's, disability leave, simpson, massachusetts drunk driving law, mcsweeney's, horrible, asian rape, mother son porn, drunk sex, films, safety hazards, new york city, ascii art farts, | I beheld trails going to other places, and to either side of me, a precipitous drop into mist. RIGHT NOW. A bedraggled drug addict is hounding me in our cell, poking me with his bony get drunk and be somebody finger, wanting to know if it was true I told my lawyer to leave without posting bail. He keeps poking me even as I lie back on the cot. I’m loose, exhausted. get drunk and be somebody For just an instant, images of Lorraine recede and I see myself playing tennis with Little Andy, laughing and stroking the ball back to get drunk and be somebody him, teaching him to enjoy the game. The shadow of an old elm stretches across the empty stands. © Marc DuBois 2003 This story may not be archived, reproduced or distributed further without the author's express permission. |
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| 38 HOURS AND 33 MINUTES AGO. The continuum of time slowed, transforming each heartbeat into a discrete, enduring event, able to be observed and contemplated from within the moment, as if I’d suddenly been exiled to a different flow of disability leave time. Lorraine clutched with ribboned fingers at a pennant of glass embedded in her armpit, working disability leave it back and forth to disimpale herself. I turned to see the babysitter shrieking uncontrollably from disability leave the doorway but I couldn’t hear a sound over the whoosh of static in my head. I fumbled with the red geyser, frantically pressing the blood back into the hole, Lorraine calling Andy, make it stop until the liquid thickened and became dark, like motor oil, and my name became an everlasting echo. 38 HOURS AND 32 MINUTES AGO. Eyes shut, I stared across time at my life, as if looking out from the crest of a great ridge. The markers and signposts leading to that moment aligned, as clear as the points on the trail out of the valley — the lone tree where lunch was eaten, the treacherous patch of scree, the mottled boulder split down the middle. |
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