Sailor
« on: March 19, 2009, 04:55:17 PM » by Lawrence Gladeview
You’re a dog, and I am envious of that. Breathe in, exhale out; you know you snore like my buddy Chip? Real nasally, somewhat high pitched at first, then bellows off at the end. I could put you two in a room and there’s no way I’m telling you apart. You lay on your side, all four of your legs are stretched in every direction possible. You must have had a tiring day. Laying about and whatnot. If you knew of alcohol, then....then I’d be really fucking jealous. So please, do not get up on my account. And there go your eyes, right into the back of your head. I’ve got a picture of that happening to me,in fact it’s right there on the wall in the kitchen. However, my eyes investigating the back of my skull was a product of Jack on Easter Sunday, not a hard days work, such as your situation. Come to think of it, society types would call you a bum if you had two less legs and higher cognitive capabilities. Ok ok, I know there are some of your kind featured in major motion pictures, it was just a joking jab, don’t get all defensive. Well it was only a matter of time before the yelps and whimpers started, you are completely gone now. Just what in the hell are you dreaming about? I’d pay a pretty good chunk of change just to know. I hope it’s not the generic, stereotypical chasing a car scene, because that would just be very disappointing. My vote is on sea-faring pirate, owning the seas between the west indies and cape horn. Slash the throat of any man who speaks of mutiny, impale the son of a bitch, and force the crew to clean the remains off the deck, that’s how I’d run the show. It’s your dream though, so make it satisfying.
Sleeping now, only to wake up to sleep again.
I sleep too. It’s not on the floor, with my face in the dirt. It’s in bed, pressed against radiating warmth, hands resting on a woman’s curves, with a hand in return grasping my thigh, acknowledging my presence. Her scent is intoxicating and I drink myself to sleep. I’ll catch up with you later Sailor, my ship will be the one with cannons at the ready and war songs heard from beyond the horizon.
Logged
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