Lucid Waking

Archive for November, 2007

Sad State of Affairs

    “Are you sure you want to know about the state of affairs?”
     “Yes. It’s crucial, no? If I want to be a citizen.”
     Celina sighed and took a sip of her tomato juice. Ejina was probably never going to be a citizen of earth, but it didn’t seem to matter if she knew what was going on.
     “Well, it started with World War III the other war to end all wars. No one’s really sure how it started but the old newspapers mention something out oil and terrorism. Anyway it started and it’s still happening.
     “So the world is divided by alliances and they’re given funny names. Well, the names are forgotten and everyone starts calling them by their uniform color: Navy, Green, Gold, Scarlet, Black, White, and Violet. I don’t remember which countries belonged to which group, but by now it doesn’t matter. The groups are constantly fighting each other so much that each country pretty much has a uniform. Common people not in politics have picked a side and statistics show that about a quarter of the world’s population switches sides everyday.”
     “That seems like a lot.”
     “It is, but while they don’t change their uniforms (because you could be lynched for that) they change their point of view. It’s hard to rule when you don’t know whether or not you’re going to be killed because you’re minority. People live in constant fear of their own country, let alone others.
     “So they passed the Color Match act that stated there were only two instances when cruel and unusual punishment would be waved: if you killed someone based on uniform color without government consent, or you were a traitor. The goal was to get people to where their colors without being afraid of being brutally murdered. And for the most part, it worked. Here in the U.S., while the navies are discriminated against, they just lash out by making their own restaurants and houses wherever they want. It works pretty well.”
     “But the government can take advantage of that.”
     “Well, hopefully the militia won’t be killing random citizens wearing the wrong color, but if they do, they’re stripped of their title and license. So they become one of us. It’s like a warning, so to say, and the next time, you’re tortured.
    Ejina winced.
    “A lot of people switched colors because they didn’t like the torture aspect; gold is the only one not to pass that law, and I guess because of it, they don’t have any traitors. People there never got beaten for their colors, anyway. Well, I guess you know what’s going on…”
    “Not quite. How did we come in?”
    “Intergalactic stuff? You found us, we didn’t find you. Someone just showed up and went, oh, look, a pretty planet. Let us join you. Be part of our embassy. And that’s sort of how it happened.”
    “Oh.”
    “Not quite what you thought, huh?”
    “Not really.”
    “Well, it’s the truth. Now that we’ve got aliens though intermingling, it makes life a little different for those on the front lines. Anyway, you still want to be a citizen?”
    “I’m thinking not.”
    “I wouldn’t either."

Haikou of the Moment (No. 5)

My friends are awake
Whippoorwill song in the night
Serenading me

Sweet Home Chicago

    I was sitting on a park bench, reading a book, minding my own business, when up comes this little girl with a dollar in her hand and she says to me:
     “’Scuse, me, miss? You look poor. My mommy said that I should help poor people.”
     She shoves the dollar in my hand and then runs off. I don’t understand what about me makes people think I’m homeless, but she’s too young to know the word “bohemian” so I’ll give her some slack. So now I’m sitting on a park bench, holding a dollar, and minding my own business when someone else just shuffled up. Never seen the man before in my life. He’s wearing a trench coat and fedora, like Al Capone, and I wonder at what kind of town I’m in that he looks perfectly normal.
     He asks to sit down. I comply. He asks me about the dollar. I said lost of people have dollars what’s it to him. He said,
    “Did a little girl give you that?”
     I said: “The bank tellers look younger every day.”
     And he laughs.
     I was thinking something like the Devil in Damn Yankees, but he wasn’t nearly as sadistic. I mean, he just laughed, and it didn’t send shivers up my spine. He didn’t ask for my soul, he just wanted to know where I got the dollar. He reaches into his pocket and gives me another dollar and thanks me for the joke and leaves.
“Besides,” he says walking away. “You look poor.”
     Three more people who do that and I’ll have enough to get a cup of coffee. Ninety-eight more and I can get a blouse at Ann Taylor. Ah, well. I decided sitting on a park bench wasn’t good for my image, so I get up and start walking into the actually downtown area of the city. New York’s all right if you know what to look for. If you don’t have any money its just like Chicago, so I wasn’t missing much from the city I left. Except maybe Marshall Fields.
     But I wasn’t in New York because I’m an artist and that’s where artists go. I went because I was supposed to meet someone here who could give me a job. I put everything on the line. The modeling contract went to someone two sizes lower than me. I have no figure, I looked starved, I’m glad I’m not a model. But I’m stuck here until I can get money to go back. I liked Chicago anyway. It had better museums.
     So I’m thinking of just putting myself in a box and mailing myself there when the girl comes up to me again and tugs on my pants leg.
     “What?”
     “Where’s my brother?”
     “Who?”
     “My brother.”
     “Um, I don’t know. Ask the police.”
     “Nu-uh. The birds said you were with him.”
     “Yellow trench and fedora? That’s your brother?”
     “Uh-huh.”
     I shrugged.
     “Will you help me find him?”
     Eh. No money and all the time in the world. “Sure.”
     That was probably the best thing I had ever said. The looks I got: a skinny, rag-dressed, got-to-be-eighteen-year-old woman holding the hand of a prim, proper, rich-guy’s-daughter little girl. Well, it was fun while it lasted.
     She led me into the Macy’s building where my fashion originated. Basically, I took what Macy’s had and I patched it up. Anti-Macy’s; that’s me. So whatever. She leads me to the elevator and we go up to the twelfth floor and when the elevator dings, I’m pretty much in the manager’s office.
     His secretary does a double take.
     “Well, welcome Miss Lenoire.”
     I did a double take. How the hell did she know my name?
     “Welcome to the fashion offices of Les Beaux, Beau. We’re a private company,” she added to my look. “I see you’ve brought the manager’s sister back; thank you very much.”
     “Uh, yeah.”
     “I suppose you’ll start on Monday?”
     “Wait, what?!”
     “Very good. Eight o’clock sharp.”
     “I-I-I…”
     Takes a lot to make me speechless. I stormed into the manager’s office and yep, there was the strange gangster I had met in the park. He looked nicer now and his sister was playing a card game in the corner. Gosh kids look littler and littler every year. I asked him what the meaning of this was. He said he gave me a job; be grateful. I said I try not to get jobs from strangers in the park. And, I added, I was not homeless. He said he knew.
     “About what?”
     “Just about everything. Don’t worry about it, we’ll get you a ticket home once you’ve earned enough.”
     “Fine, but don’t think I’m not coming without pepper spray.”
     He laughed. “I wouldn’t expect you not to.”
     Feh, double negatives. Well, against my better judgment, I started work. The strangest family you’ll ever meet. They’re not human (he said fairies, or something like that), so I suppose that sort of made life easier for me. And like his promise, I’m on my way back home; sweet home Chicago!

Good Wine

        Why is it that the especially pretty nights are ones that are cold? She contemplated this as she admired the shadows on the sidewalk from the moon. Her nose at this point was frozen, her ears were numb, and her gloves were not quite warm enough to keep her fingers comfortable for a forty-five minute walk. The stars were clear little flames of light burning brightly in the navy blue sky.
        West End Bar at the southern corner of town was her destination and she opened the door to the strong smell of whiskey and candle wax. The heat hit her in a wave and the soft jazz buzzing under people’s conversation comforted her. The building was right off of the lake and the windows on the far end were thickly frosted with spots of candlelight.
        “Hey, Mary, it’s about time you got here!” Scott yelled from behind the bar. A few of the regulars turned and greeted her. It was obvious they had been drinking for hours and reeked of alcohol. She took off her coat and made to the back of the back room. She would be carting the bottles of wine out of the back room until 8 o’clock when her shift officially started.
        She rolled up her sleeves and started breaking the lids off of boxes with a satisfying crack. The bottles clinked lovingly as she placed them on the divided shelves. A line of cognac slid down the ramp with a loud clank as she went back to the carton and started loading up the raspberry vodka. She broke carton after carton in a Zen-like state lovingly listening to the clinking of bottles in the otherwise quiet room.
        She was interrupted by someone clearing his throat behind her. She checked her watch.
        “It’s only 7:50, Sco—”
        But instead of her red-head, freckled co-worker she faced a tall man with chestnut brown hair with his eyebrows raised, puzzled. He was holding a crate in his arms and offered it to her with a quick thrust.
        “Where do you want this?”
        She checked her watch again. “Isn’t it a little bit late to be delivering?”
        He shrugged. “They told me to send this right away and I only just got the order fifteen minutes ago.”
        “One crate?”
        He shrugged again. “I just do what I’m told.”
        “Well, what is it?”
        “Red wine.”
        “Put it over there.” She pointed to a spot across the room. The bottles clinked behind her as more of them slid forward.
        “Where do you work?” she asked.
        “Italiano Wine and Spirit,” he said. “They work within the system as much as possible.”
        “Hmm, never heard of it.”
        He smiled charismatically. “Most people haven’t.”
        “Well someone in the system must have had to or you wouldn’t be here.”
        “Exactly, so don’t worry about it. You seem on guard. Just relax.”
        She laughed. “Are you one of those guys who also tries to be a psychiatrist?”
        He sighed. “I should have known better than to talk with a female bartender.”
        “What?”
        “You know,” he said opening the crate with a nearby crowbar and pulling out a bottle. “I think you need to relax.”
        “I don’t drink on the job,” she said. “Ironically.”
        “Suit yourself.” He opened the bottle with a Swiss army knife and took a swig. “What’s your name?”
        “Really you should go. You’ve delivered and you’re done. This is a private business.”
        “That’s quite a long name.”
        She sighed.
        “Hey, Mary, what’s going on in there?” Scott yelled. “I’m out of cognac; keep it rolling!”
        “Mary, huh?” the stranger said as he took another swig of wine.
        Mary walked over to the empty shelf and started placing the bottles on the slope one by one.
        “I’ve got work to do, so if you don’t mind—”
        She heard the liquid splash against the bottom of the bottle.
        “You should really try this.”
        “No thank you.”
        She was back in her element loading the bottles with the lovely clink of glass. But the sound of liquid hitting the bottom of the bottle was disturbing her trance. Every time she looked he was sitting and drinking that wine, watching her. He didn’t move toward her or make any other move besides drink from that bottle. She sighed.
        “Ok, look. I need to get back to work. I don’t know why you’re here or stayed around, but now that you’re done with the delivery I suggest you leave. I’m going to call your company and file a complaint, so you might as well just leave on your own. If you sit here any longer, I’ll call the police.”
        “Good luck getting them to catch someone they can’t see.”
        Her heart exploded in heavy beats.
        “What do you mean?”
        He laughed. “You’re just scared. Don’t worry, I’ll leave.”
        He made for the door, leaving the one opened bottle at the base of the crate.
        “Good luck calling the company, too, they’re not in the phone book.”
        She licked her dry lips and watched him go, the sound of cognac bottles ringing behind her.
        “But if you do figure it out, file a complaint against Dionysus. They’ll love that.”
        He shut the deliver door behind him. The room was still and the door didn’t move. Still, Mary spend the next few moments making sure no one would go through the door again. Damn it, she thought, I’ve dissed a God. But she was too afraid of being snuck up on, not to mention someone going through what she thought was a locked door, to even bother with praying.
        “It’s 8,” Scott said breaking the silence and almost making her jump to the ceiling.
        “Oh, jeez,” she said. “I lost track of time.”
        “I see that,” Scott said going towards his coat. “You’ve also been drinking.”
        “I swear that’s not me.”
        Scott picked up a bottle and examined the label. “Never seen this company before. Oh, wait,” he looked at her, “was it that Dionysus guy, again?”
        She nodded.
        Scott sighed. “I don’t like him.”
        “Well, I’ve got a shift to run,” she said. “So if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to deal with people who don’t have an unusual affinity for wine.”
        Scott laughed. “Have fun!”

Kitten Haikou

Feline eyes glowing
Poised and close to kill her prey
Just a piece of string

Flowers

        “We have at least three hours left,” Jackie said gathering up the flowers and throwing them in her basket.
         “But we’re four hours away from home,” Sam whined. He started crying and it was obvious there was nothing she could do to stop him.
         “All right, come on.”
         The field was an expanse of hay bales and yellow grass eaten down by cows. There were a few wildflowers growing next to the irrigation river that ran through the field. The sky was a velvet purple and growing dusty. The moon glowed gold while the apricot sun sank below the gray horizon.
         Jackie held her brother’s hand in her left and the basket of flowers rested on her right. She knew if she had started earlier with gathering flowers, she would not have been in such a rush, but as it was, eight hours was a long time to leave her mother on their own. Only twelve with the possibility of being orphaned shadowing her footsteps, Jackie had seen too much in her life to remain innocent. Her face was slightly wrinkled and her blue eyes grew dull with the light. She let go of her brother’s arm and tugged the ribbons out of her hair so it would warm up her neck.
         Sam whimpered.
         “Jackie, I’m scared.”
         “Why don’t you carry the basket?”
         He took it from her and held it stiffly in his hand. Sam was nine years old and only knew his one parent. His black hair reflected the yellow off the light creating a halo above his head. His blue-brown eyes nervously shifted from shadow to shadow with every click and rustle along the way.
         The small house came up suddenly as a light went on in the front window as they walked. Someone glanced through the window and then quickly opened the door to run and greet the two children.
         “Oh thank goodness,” a dark haired woman cried. “I didn’t know where you were!”
         Sam started crying as well, but Jackie just returned the embrace.
         “Don’t do that again!” she said and then got caught up in a fit of coughing. She gasped for breath between loud rasps until something red splattered the ground in front of her. She stopped and panted loudly.
        “Come on,” she said quietly, “let’s go into the house.”
        “We got you flowers,” Sam said tear glossing his eyes.
        The woman smiled. “Thank you,” she said. She put her arm around Jackie and held Sam’s hand as they went into the warm house, the basket of flowers still firmly clutched in Sam’s hand.

The Greatest Joy

The greatest joys in life can only be
The day you learned to ride a bike,
Spending the day climbing a tree,
Going with your family to take a hike.
When you first learned to tie your laces,
Blowing out the candles on the cake in one try,
Swimming by yourself fifteen paces,
Baking with Mom your first strawberry-rhubarb pie.
Going across the monkey bars for the first time,
Doing a cartwheel you’ve worked on for weeks,
Losing your tooth and getting a dime,
Playing in snow ’til you have rosy cheeks.
So while you’re young, branch out and have fun
Enjoy life while you can, little one.

Winter Wind

Wild winds tear through sky
Whirling snow in circles
Unearthing a bud

Shining Night

The moon and I are special friends
Our courting begins when stars arrive
His light upon the water bends
As we talk and let our love thrive
The Whippoorwills sing a serenade song
As we tease each other with light
Our talks never last too long
We end when I must take my flight
For sleep has captured my heart at last
And though I try to love the moon
I find our time goes by so fast
Every night sleep arrives so soon.
But do not grieve for short-lived bliss
For I will leave you with a kiss.

Sonata Op. 27, No. 2 (Moonlight), first movement by Ludwig van Beethoven

        The Little Victoria was not a ship that could hold much. She had traveled miles and months without fail and had protected her crew against ice and wind. The little ship was her captain’s pride and joy and even the crew, though first wary, grew to love her.
         She loved to travel at night and the wind was always on her side. The moon glowed through the thick canvas of her sails and the light seemed to fill them as she glided across the black waters. When day came, the wind would die down and though she could travel quickly, it was never as fast with the sun shining on her deck.
         But even with their faith in her, when the sky grew thick with clouds and thunder shook the sky, the crew and captain weren’t sure if their little ship could take it. Victoria had gone through rocky seas, but had been lucky enough to never encounter rain. The wind whistled through her sails as she continued on, rocking to the sway of the water. There wasn’t much the crew could do but to follow her onward as she took the ride of the water and the wind. Rain fell in sheets almost drowning the deck and it was all the crew could do to get the water over boards and back into the sea.
         The day continued and soon, the rain lessened, the clouds dispersed, and sunbeams reached through the clouds to the little boat. The sun’s golden rays calmed the seas before going to bed and letting the moon and its wind take the little vessel forward through the night.

(Listen to it)