Lucid Waking

a piece of coal

        I carried it in my pocket as I went down towards the subway to go to my grandmother’s house for Hanukkah. It was a little piece of coal some classmate thought would be funny to give me for Christmas. And though I’m Jewish, I understand fully well what he was trying to say. It didn’t add to his case to get me to go out with him, but I’m sure he didn’t think of that in advance. He’s a guy.
        I found the perfect person on my walk. She was huddled between two kissing buildings in a large black jacket. Her hair was full of leaves and she smelled like a litter box. If you don’t have a cat at home, you might be lucky in this regard. She also clutched at her bulging belly as she slept, upright in the alley. But what made her perfect was that she was sitting in front of a large dumpster somehow wedged between the two tall buildings.
        I shook her awake and she looked at me with disdain.
        “Whatta you wan’?” she said as she shivered.
        I handed her a box of matches and the piece of coal. “I know its not much, but Merry Christmas.”
        “What the hell do you want me to do with this?”
        I took some papers out of the dumpster and put the coal on top. I lit a match and watched the thing go up in flame before settling back down. “Merry Christmas,” I said again.
        She blinked at me. “Merry Christmas to you, too.”

This entry was posted on Wednesday, December 12th, 2007 at 6:07 pm and is filed under Fiction Prose, God Teacher, Realistic Fiction. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.