Spiritual Intensity

February 15, 2018April 14, 2018 ~ Piece, of the Sky

conflicted

Alli sat in the cafe while it rained. The glow of her computer reflected off her glasses. Outside the sun was setting. The curbs were becoming lakes. The passerby stepped away from the edge of the sidewalk as his taxi cab cruised in.

The sky continued to grow darker. The droplets lashed the window. Alli sipped her coffee and listened to the crescendo. The white noise drowned out the smooth jazz coming through the cafe speakers. Every now and again, the door would open with a gust of damp air and someone would come in, fussing over their coat or dripping umbrella.

The coffee was almost cold. Alli sipped the macchiato gingerly. Nearly a year since Dallas. She had heard the Lothario was somewhere in Thailand now, probably enjoying sunny beaches and coconut curry stew. Outside, the downpour would not let up. It seemed like it would rain all night.

Annoyed with her self-pity, Alli closed the laptop. She put on her black trench coat and paid her tab at the counter, before opening the glass door and stepping out into the deluge. Flagging down a taxi on her first try, Alli directed the yellow cab to her apartment.

Back home, Alli put on a dress shirt and some jeans. She put on her Rolex and a dot of cologne. Inside her closet, she checked her hairline in the mirror and then went back out, catching another cab, headed downtown.

She was back at Labyrinth, Dallas and her old stomping grounds. On the first floor was the bar, in the basement was the dance floor. Down in the club was dark as usual. Downstairs also had its own bar. A white-haired woman approached Alli from beyond her left elbow. The woman extended an arm, “Hi, I’m Xen.”

Alli enjoyed dancing with her. She was as buoyant and light, as Alli was circumscribed and stiff. “Let me buy you a drink,” Alli said, over the din emitted from the DJ’s box.

At nearly 1 AM, they walked to a local pizza joint, that served drunk food all night. Sitting at the white-and-red checkered table, Xen asked, “So, what do you do?”

“I’m an accountant,” Alli answered. She struggled to find a way to eat the greasy slice in a delicate way.

It was still raining when they snuggled together on the couch, in front of the fire, at Alli’s place. Rivulets ran down the glass. “You know,” Xen said, “I have a cabin in upstate New York – if you ever want to stop by during the weekend.”

“That would be nice,” Alli answered.

The wind shook the windows. They scrunched deeper under the afghan and watched the fire roar. The log broke and crumbled in the fireplace, with a series of loud snaps.

Alli wanted to believe that there was a cleansing, redemptive power in the rain, even when her hamstring hurt. That somewhere out there, there was a fresher, purer self, waiting to be born.

acceptance

Songs:

コンシャスTHOUGHTS:

ＭＩＤＮＩＧＨＴ

ネオン涙

Cruising

Collapse the Waveform

February 14, 2018May 5, 2018 ~ Piece, of the Sky

no more haters

The smell of the sea rose up from the bay and floated out to the park. Alli sat on a bench facing the water. Down the hill, lay a field and in the distance, the boardwalk. Alli could hear the carnival games: whack-a-mole, dunk tank, test your strength.

Clouds gathered for the afternoon thunderstorm. Some pigeons walked around nearby. They inspected a bag of popcorn dropped by one of the teenagers, who had recently passed by, carrying a giant beach towel and an umbrella.

The broad leaves of the trees swayed with the wind. The scent of the grass mingled with that of the water, teeming and receding, far out there, on the horizon.

Alli checked her watch. She was supposed to meet Nealy here today. She slapped a mosquito buzzing near the back of her neck. The bench was in the shade, but the temperature was still rising.

A kid went by on roller-skates, walking a platoon of dogs. The old man with the ice cream cart headed down to the shore. People lay on blankets, sunning, staring at the sky, reading paperback novels. Someone in a beret stopped by the water fountain, checked his phone and blanched.

Alli got up and walked down the path, lined with a canopy of trees. Their leaves fanned out, creating oscillating shadows. A folk band practiced off to the side, on a portable stage. She walked under one of the park’s scenic bridges, the air nice and cool, for a few seconds. A summer science class gathered around a hot dog stand.

Outside the park, and on the street, stood a Sephora and a Chinese food restaurant. Alli headed to Cafe Nero and ordered an espresso. She watched the cars stop and go outside the window. The cumulus formation was nearer now. Even inside, Alli could feel the air tensing up, despite the summer sunshine. Couples strolled by, arm-in-arm, at eye-level.

A bolt of electricity ran through Alli – there was Nealy – together, with another woman, a woman in a print dress, laughing about an unheard joke.

“If I was with someone, how would you feel?”

Alli nearly knocked over the cup and the saucer. She looked around and Nealy was standing right beside her. She looked back at the street – but the look-alike and her mate had already turned the corner.

“I thought I would find you here,” Nealy said, sitting down.

“It was too hot,” Alli said.

“You don’t spend too much time outdoors.”

Alli shook her head, “How was Shanghai?” On the coffeehouse speakers, one of Elvis’s Hawaii songs came on.

“Hot. Like here. Healthy food though.”

“Lots of good IPOs?”

“Could have been better,” Nealy said, “But fewer shell companies.” The waiter brought Nealy her coffee.

“Are you going to stay here now?”

“I will probably go back to San Francisco, but will still divide my time between there, and New York.”

They watched the lights turn from green to red, ‘Walk’ icon to ‘Don’t Walk’ icon.

“Will you stay in New York?” Nealy asked.

“For the time being,” Alli said. Her second coffee arrived.

“Where will you go next?” Nealy asked, looking at her.

“I haven’t thought that far,” Alli looked out the glass. The clouds hovered over the skyscrapers. It had begun to drizzle.

The rain started, slowly at first, but then began to pummel the sidewalk. Pedestrians ran, covering their heads with newspapers. The pale orange clouds sunk lower, heavy in the downpour.

The two of them sat there, watching the thunderstorm, listening to the low hiss of the espresso machine.

magic pool