Lucid Waking

Archive for May 17th, 2010

That Easy

        Reason stated that Samson probably shouldn’t have been in a dark alley in a part of the city he didn’t know following a man who just looked trustworthy on his word that his shop was not accessible from the street. Reason noted the sunset between the buildings and that the street lights only stood by the main street. Reason noted where his car was waiting parked by the curb with the meter running. Reason also made sure his left hand felt the full ring of keys he had in his pocket just in case he had to hit and run. But reason couldn’t beat desire and he continued past the high, damp walls and carefully dodged puddles as he followed the elderly man moving at a surprisingly fast pace through a small maze of passages between buildings.
        True to the man’s word, they stopped at an awning that said “Lou’s Magical Trinkets” in peeling white letters. Stairs led down to an iron door with peeling white paint and rusty edges. The man grunted a little as he went down the stairs, keys jingling. Samson followed him into the large dark basement that despite its location was clean and tidy. With a flicker of florescent lights, shelves of knickknacks were revealed in an eerie suspended-animation way. The old man had already toddled toward a shelf at the right side of the room which was cast in shadow due to the burned out light above it.
        “Here it is,” he said, proudly, with a shaky voice. He dusted off the object with a large breath and patted it down. “Here’s what you need.”
        The old man handed Samson a pair of fingerless leather gloves. They had a faint odor of salted peanuts, but otherwise seemed ordinary.
        “This is it? This is the secret to fame and fortune?”
        The old man nodded as if it seemed obvious from the cracked leather. “If you wear these you can play any instrument you can get your hands on like a virtuoso. And sing, too. If you want to be an expert musician with anything, you wear these gloves. And in my experience, that’s all you need.”
        Samson was still skeptical, but he agreed to pay for the gloves. A wad of cash poorer and more disgruntled, he walked back up the stairs and noticed that the alley running parallel to the door led directly to the street. His car was mysteriously parked right by the entrance to the alley, though he knew he hadn’t parked it there before.

Author’s comments on post 384: Whew. Well, I’m trying to get back into the swing of things. This was influenced by this story. I’ll write more when I have more time.