Passages to Nowhere

  Because this is a new incarnation of my old blog and I hadn't posted anything on that thing for over a year, I figured I would just start off clean and put up some passages from things I started writing but never finished.  You see what I did there with the title?  Get it?  Fuck I'm lame.  Without further adieu, here are two excerpts.

Transcendence

Written 02/27/10

Inspired by listening to "Transcendence" from Oskoreien's Illusions EP

  I imagined sheets silhouetting the curves of a body.  I felt that warmth press hard against my ribs from the inside, and the sadness of knowing that I must eventually leave.  Then I am at a battlefield.  A combatant on the losing side, fighting beside too many with too little time to care about any of them, and against a faceless enemy who owns my full attention.  Selfish survival is the only thing in this place of burning bodies and crying voices worth working for.  Then I am alone there, hiding from my fate while remembering the silhouette under the sheets, but still unable to feel anything more than the survival, and the sadness of knowing that I must eventually leave.

Indifference

Written sometime in late 2009 and edited today

Inspired by "Vitamins" in Raymond Carver's "Cathedral", a hospital visit, and personal conflict.

 The artificial odor of apples and cinnamon ran high in the air. The chair he sat in felt as if it once had been the failed attempt at a roll cage of an automobile and crudely fashioned into a seat.  The sickening pale green of the walls were enough to make him vomit just from their sight out of his peripheral vision.  The magazine he held had little effect on his disgust, and in fact, intensified it.  "Women experiencing involuntary vaginal seepage should consult a doctor as it may be a sign of infection which could lead to kidney failure."  No shit.  They have such boring fucking magazines in these places.  He felt sweat bead off of the edge of hair at the top of his forehead.  His boredom was excruciating.
  "Mr. Hughes." said the nurse.  He looked up at her.  "Please come with me."  He followed her.  He tried his best to ignore the sterility of the halls.  Her face and breasts were not exceptional, but her body was great.  Given these circumstances, he could hardly feel physical attraction.  She led him into a small office. "Please sit down." He sat down. She sat across the desk from him. "Mr. Hughes, there were complications during the surgery.  Your wife has passed away."  He looked at her indifferent.  "Mr. Hughes, I am deeply sorry for your loss.  Please believe we did everything we could to resuscitate your wife."  He felt relieved.  "If you need someone to speak with you, we have a priest, Father Bradshaw, on hand."  He nodded.  "Thank you, but that's fine."
  He walked out of the hospital alone.  He drove home past the beauty parlor, the grocery store and the steakhouse.  He thought about how much loved his wife.  Was it enough?