Life Among the Never-Winged

Once upon a time I was writing a book called, "Just Another Love Letter", about angels behaving badly. Now I just quietly ask myself each day, "What the hell am I doing?"

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Location: The Rocky Mountain Empire, United States

My friends always knew I was going to hell. My only hope is that God likes good jokes and bad redheads.

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  • Monday, November 26, 2007


    Balancing out...

    It's a lovely little town. It borders Denver, one of the burbs now really. When you drive into it this time of year the trees are filed with lights and there's a banner saying,'HAPPY HOLIDAYS.'

    It's quiet. Charming. Very, 'It's Wonderful Life.'

    Jo lives there, in an apartment off Main Street. I went over last night to study. She's taking a cardiac class waaaay over my head. We quizzed each other until midnight. Time to go home.

    In the parking lot I saw him across the alley. He saw me.

    I lost sight of him completely for a moment, crossing through a parking garage. But I felt him walking towards me. Silent. I listened for him. (“Hey, excuse me, miss...?”)

    But he didn't say anything.

    I was almost to the car. I knew he was there. I couldn't see him. I felt him. He was silent.

    I had my keys. I realized they were the wrong keys. I grabbed the right keys, debated opening the back door along with the front, to throw my heavy laptop and book in. Which would be faster? I opened both, thew them in, threw myself into the front, hit the lock button immediately.

    He was two feet away. Dressed in black. Silent.

    I turned the key in the ignition. The radio came on, loud. I turned it up.

    (Crazy Train. Ha ha, Universe, you so funny!)

    I lost sight of him, and then he was behind the car. He stopped. He didn't turn towards the car, but stood there, sideways, as if he were simply walking behind it to his own and had stopped. Perhaps in mid-thought.

    These were the things my head was telling me to 'normalize' the situation. It tried to tell me all was well. A misunderstanding. He was was just some guy walking behind my car.

    But he wasn't. He was silent. He didn't say anything. He didn't move.

    I couldn't pull forward. A concrete barrier blocked me.

    I didn't want to hurt him, in case he was just a guy. I thought of backing over him though. What if.

    Then he came around to the passenger side. He didn't stand next to the window. He stood diagonally, from the headlight. He stared in at me.

    His expression, his LACK of expression. I can't describe it.

    I can tell you what it wasn't. It wasn't drug-addled. It wasn't retarded. It wasn't even angry or hateful. No desire, no recognition, no trace of a smile. A bit of uncertainty, perhaps. Perhaps.

    As if this were the first time and he wasn't sure how it goes...

    I looked him in the eye. Straight in the eye. I held him there for a minute.

    I shook my head no. No. You can't have me.

    He opened his mouth.

    But he didn't speak. Even then. Silent.

    He took his hands out of his hoody. Empty. Empty.

    I thew the car in reverse and drove away. I called M as soon as I could and told her to stay inside.

    Before I'd left, she told me to give her a text when I got home. Just to make sure. She NEVER does that. I don't either. It's not something we think about.

    I joked, “I'll text you even if I get into a fiery auto crash. You know I will.”

    We laughed.

    “Hey I died in a fiery auto crash. See you later.”

    No, she hadn't seen anyone suspicious. She hadn't seen anyone, had no reason to worry. But this is how we operate.

    I didn't sleep last night, beyond a few minutes. Enough to dream that I watched him take another woman.

    Every time I close my eyes I see his face.

    I didn't even think to call 911 from the car. I worry for Jo. I worry for every woman in that little town.

    I should have backed over him.

    Jo's side.

    Labels: , ,

    10 people left me a love letter:

    Blogger Bud wrote in a love letter...

    Glad you're safe. That shit scares me. Both of you could have called it in but it's over for now. Let it go.

    4:02 PM, November 26, 2007  
    Blogger Stucco wrote in a love letter...

    Probably a junkie having a fucked up inner monologue:

    "Where am I?"

    "Maybe she has pastries"

    "Downhill to water, yeah"

    "Did I just disappear? Wait! She's looking at me! I must exist. No? No. She's saying no- I don't exist. I should argue- [opens mouth] But what if she's right? [silence}"

    Then he tried to pee the alphabet in the snow but only got to f.

    Or it was an asshole cop off duty.

    6:09 PM, November 26, 2007  
    Blogger Schmoopie wrote in a love letter...

    You need to carry mace, just in case, Pants. You are a petite woman (even though you are a scrappy redhead!)

    I am so glad you are well. Bud gave the best advice, let it go!

    (Or he was looking for pastries :)

    6:47 PM, November 26, 2007  
    Blogger Irrelephant wrote in a love letter...

    I agree with Schmoop, Pants--mace, or pepper spray. Or a .45 loaded with Hydroshoks or Black Talons that you can toss into a handy river on the way home.

    Jeezus I hate people sometime.

    7:35 PM, November 26, 2007  
    Blogger liv wrote in a love letter...

    remember that St. Christopher medal in your pocket? you did the right thing, sister. now do your best to forget him.

    11:22 AM, November 27, 2007  
    Anonymous Emily R wrote in a love letter...

    Ugh. How frightening. Easy to tell you to forget him, but not so easy to do, I'll wager.

    2:18 PM, November 27, 2007  
    Blogger Lynn wrote in a love letter...

    Oh man. This gave me the willies! A friend of mine, who is a black belt, says that women should carry a bat or golf club, as a deterent...just a thought:~)

    9:02 PM, November 27, 2007  
    Blogger ms chica wrote in a love letter...


    Most of the important stuff has been covered.

    I'm glad you had the spacial awareness to pay attention. So many who fall into the trap are preoccupied and going through the motions. I'm glad you were one of the lucky ones.

    8:38 PM, November 28, 2007  
    Blogger sari wrote in a love letter...

    I'm glad you're ok.

    And even though it's a creepy, crappy post, you did use one of my favorite songs of all time in your labels.

    2:10 PM, November 29, 2007  
    Blogger amusing wrote in a love letter...

    Oh. I have the chills. And tears in my eyes.

    Oh, and that weird sort of guilt -- how to prevent, I should have called, what if....

    The world. Today. Sigh.

    And yet it serves as "entertainment" on tv.... how many fictional women victims a night? I can't watch it anymore.

    11:23 AM, November 30, 2007  

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