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Shakesthegrounds Rumblings
jstephens9:
I have always heard good things about Provincetown. I got some brochures of it one year and almost planned a trip there. I still have it on my list of places to see. That is a long list.
Shakesthecoffecan:
So the flights back were decent, little planes with two seats on one side and one seat on the other, no way to stand up. I had the seat to myself going to LaGuardia, staring out the window at the islands in the east river, one of which used to house a big hospital, now ruins, and Rikers island, and thank gawd at the last second the runway appears under the landing gear.
I checked for M.R.'s flight and it was actually arriving a head of schedule, cool, I settled in with me book and text messages and shortly she was calling me! "Meet you at the baggage claim."
And hour later, I still waiting with that cart I was so fortunate to grab with out having to pay for.....I knew she had to go thru customs but WTF?! I kept my eyes trained on the escalator, looking for her blond hair and black Johnny Cash out fit and suddenly, finally, there she was, black blouse andOrange skirt.
"And how do you plan to get to Martinsville?" Customs asked her.
"In a car" she said.
The ride home seemed short, driving thru one thunderstorm. We past the eastern city limits, "why do we stay here?" She asks me, "Because we can afford it" I smiled back at her. Lynn was at her house, sweeping up the cat litter her cats had strode about the place.
I finally reached home about 6 pm, the birds were singing, and as I put my key in the door, a crow flew down the road, calling a song I had never heard before. It sounded like something from the jungle.
Shakesthecoffecan:
For exactly a week she had been cooped up in a cage, but she did not know what weeks were, or days, only the cycle of eating and sleeping, as much as she dared in this place, the dark coming suddenly with the exit of the people from the room. Her initial terror had given way to a general warriness that danger was all about her.
They had stuck needles into her, repeatedly. Had made her sleep and when she woke she was in pain, the fur gone from her belly and the sense that something, she knew not what, was irrevocably changed. Still she was here, still in this indoor place cut off from all she had ever known. Her mind searched in tightly wound circles for answers, but there were none. Kind tones from the strangers and the intonation of the sound he made to her was the only comfort that came her way.
And as strangely as it had began, the tall boy with the ball cap woke her and reached into her cage. This was it, no doubt, her life was about to end or return and she was powerless to stop him, no where to run, nothing she could do. His rough hands guided her into the box as she recalled its smell, like old dankness in the room she rarely ventured, vaguely like other cats and a hint of something else, too far gone to tell when whoosh! up and away from the table, her claws could penetrate nothing, she faltered and cried out, she hated this.
Down the corridor her wide eyed terror tinged with the essential need to find out all she could, look for any out, any crack in the system that would allow her to get her head thru. If she could get her head out she was half way, where? The sounds all around her, animals she could not see or smell correctly, there, he is.
A cry, a wail, please, be real, don't be a dream, please undo this thing and put me back the way I was, she cried, long and hard. The familiar face bent down to the wire door and cooed, a familiar finger reached thru and she touched her nose to it, it was. It was.
Thru the door, into the heat, into to the box he put himself in to every day to leave, the air suddenly growing cooler and the sound of engine. The sky over head moved, she felt herself this way and that and she knew, it was almost over.
Meow? he said.
Meoooow! She replied, and reflexively, from deep within her, she relaxed and squinted her eyes as she let out the softest coo.
loneleeb3:
Poor Cry Baby!
:-\
Shakesthecoffecan:
Coming back into consciousness from the dream world I found myself this morning searching for a metaphor.
A waiter came with one of those hand brooms that has no handle, sweeping the crumbs from the table so I could see what was my food and what was my utentisels. Nah, not quite right.
The curtains pulled back so I can find my shoes.....no, but getting closer. I lay their a while and then it comes to me:
[youtube=425,350]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gKaT5uG80Ts[/youtube]
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