Daddy wouldn’t let me play with Jimmy, once daddy pushed me over the dunes and coarse sand stuck to my face, daddy was usually nice but he didn’t like Jimmy, “but he wears nice clothes!”.
“But he’s a shit!”, was the reply. I lost interest and left all over again, I took my face to another to another state and left my shoes behind.
It was a center of mass transit and I don’t remember getting there, I was on the 1st level and looking at a railroad map I ran my finger along the scar shaped coloured lines that intersected each other. The trains arrived and natives popped on, many of them hung on to the sides as there was not enough room inside, some showed blood and died, everday this happened at every hour, bodies were cleaned by men.
The trains ran on electricity and mainly underground. I decided to walk. Some workers were already cueing for the next train and I saw the glint of metal in their eyes and the bulge of assorted hand weapons, I saw no women and someone slipped on blood, children laughed.
I saw magazines on racks and a woman marching with a cake, someone coughed and a voice droned over the loudspeaker announcing something I didn’t need to hear.
I stepped through an arch and circled the railway cafe, faces gurgling and yapping and staining their throats with hot drinks, a man winked at me and I kept on.
Outside it was less chaotic, I went 15 blocks to Joseph’s. My shirt came off, we squeezed hands and ate pasta. He was different, smaller and looking into space, the television went on for hours and I left at night, he “wanted other girls” I pulled my jumper on and took my pillowcase, I offered to urinate on his face, raised my eyebrows and left.
At the station, the moon was high, and the block structure was a little warm, a pram was pushed in front of the train, a man in a helmet laughed, his gut wobbled. I smashed a native’s nose and wiped the blood on my thigh, girls were usually let on without incident. I got off at Chevellum, my home was far from antiseptic, I threw my autumn case down inside the door and tucked myself into bed and listened to Ben and Mona doing it through the wall. I slept.
I woke up dreaming of elephants and ants and myself in a chain gang and Joseph whipping me and the slam of the door behind a fleeting Ben. I wanted to masturbate but didn’t have the energy. I stepped through an odour and out the door picking up my pants as I went. Mona was in the hall on her knees scribbling on the wall in crayon. Last week it was pastels. She farted and mumbled something about coming on the carpet and breakfast never looking so good or something. I patted her like a dog and because of my shrug she went back to the wall. I thought about reading it all someday, knowing I wouldn’t.
After a shower and an unusually long time on the toilet thinking about miniature Joseph dolls drowning to porn music and about me being gorgeous to spite him, I ate an egg and trudged heavily out the door, there was no way I could work in the atmosphere Mona created and I respected that, it was her place and I loved wearing her clothes, they smelt like dope and sex and made guys look. I was never lazy in a sexy way or even close but guys still liked to look.
I hurried under clouds to Fast Eats and sat in front of my juice, my satchel was wet and I felt eccentric, “where’s my tartan belt and pipe?”.
I slept on my hands.
Straws were placed placed inbetween my fingers and there were creases from the cushion imbedded around my thigh. A sweat surrounded me and I blinked at my hands. The waitress looked over at me and I couldn’t help but laugh, she was really into it and festy, I should’ve tasted her way of life, it seemed appealing but I ignored it, anyway Roxy Music was playing on the juke and my presence was due elsewhere.
The fashion was to cross the road at intersections, but there were no cars and I trotted over hopefully unnoticed, like a mouse in a mall I went from hole to hole.