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Rafters
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His house was very yellow. I'm not so sure I care for yellow as a house
color. It tries too hard to show up the sun, undoubtedly a trivial task.
"Let me ask you something."
Oh no, here we go. I nodded my head with grace as my faade and my
narrow and cold face as my instrument.
"You ever wonder what people are talking about when they say
'those were the days'?".
I had guessed correctly--questions with literally no answers were Brian's
lifeblood. It kept him going, kept him searching. If it wasn't for
discovery, may the world grow a mouth, and swallow him.
I tried to play along.
"Well, what are they, actually? You seem to have your mind made up."
"Not exactly. I mean, in a year will you look back on today, and think of
it as 'one of those days'."
I shrugged.
"I dunno, I suppose so."
He spit out the last of his sunflower seeds, his dusty old bag empty.
He brushed off his jacket, as the many shells had littered his
wear unkindly.
He looked at me solemnly.
"Lets take a walk."
*****
It only rang once as the alarm clock was in mid snooze mode and I was
awake, dreading its next declaration of morning. The voice on the other
end was somber, and loud, but I suppose it was just part of the waking up
process. He had done it on a tree, hanging like the martyr he thought he
was. My friend, an unnatural extension of nature and relish had ended his
life, leaving me by myself. All alone. Stuck in a race, and it doesn't
end. No, it never ends. Though it didn't surprise me at all. Brian was
always sort of a free soul that obviously didn't need anybody. The talks
we had had, and the time we shared together was more or less ours than
individually mine, or his. He always loved the summer, its new breath was
always a simple reminder of why he was standing where he was standing, and
why he was saying what he was saying. A reminder from the wind.
*****
October came, reluctantly on my part. The soil was covered with leaves,
pierced with a grey shroud that was truly depressing. Oh, how I missed
the south and its sickly humidity. That day I walked into the "Blank
Envelope", which by that time had been renamed to "The Steaming
Hypocrisy". I didn't particularly care for the name, but as long as there
was Kent to scoff at, and the young blonde waiter to pick at, well I was
happy. That day it turned around, and I felt a calm and tepid mood. I
charmed the waitress Maggie into a few joy filled sentences. Sure it
wasn't much, but it was a start. A shallow beginning to whatever it was I
was looking for.
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