Looking Up
©1998-2000 Leslie
I guess, I guess I wasn't the first to wonder, "why?"
He was meditative, relaxed, picking his teeth. "I don't believe I even caught a glimpse of another path. This one opened up before me like a canyon between skyscrapers and I dropped, passing penthouse floors that might have been the windowed tiers of hell. Here now the suicides, there now the murderers. Sweet, sweet descent of mine."
"I hated that broken down feeling, afterwards. Crack, crack. The same way plexiglass shatters, with the squeaky snap of stressed synthetics. Ah synthetics. Chemistry. And physics, ssssso sexy. You know: what goes up must come down. For every force, something gives. Well, something gave, alright."
"It happens when your heart changes over. That's when I saw eternity unroll before me. You have to be frozen yourself to be able to see the stone, stone cold of time."
"So let me tell you this about that. The ones who preach what they know about death? -- well they won't be there with you when your moment comes. But I will. And whether I lick the blood from your face or from the pavement where you fell, why, it all tastes the same."
Ask a silly question.
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