Random Drifting

As I gaze into my crystal ball...

I can see it now.

You'll be trudging down Devon Ave. It will be a hot August day, and the sun will be wearing you down. A bus will go by, spewing black smoke in your face. You'll choke and sputter, and suddenly something inside you will snap. You'll no longer be on a dirty stinking street. You'll be on a moonlit hill.

A cool breeze will gently muss your hair. You'll look down and see that you're naked. But it won't seem odd to you. You'll look to your right and see a white kitten gnawing on a captured bird. On your left, you'll see a black cat cleaning it's genitals. In front of you is a heavy back pack, which you will heave up on your shoulders. Then you'll start walking down the hill. Along the stream. Over the bridge. And up to the rough-hewn stone wall.

You'll carefully place the back pack in the cubby provided for that purpose, and you'll pull the bell cord. But no bell will ring. Instead, a siren will sound, getting louder and louder. You'll open your eyes and see a circle of faces looking down at you.

The siren will wind down and the crowd will part to let the policeman through. He will wrap a blanket around your body and help you into the back of the car.

Naturally, the air conditioning in the car won't be working.

Ah! My crystal ball is clearing again.

You are sleeping fitfully. You toss and turn, your legs twisting in the sheets tighter and tighter. Suddenly you awaken and try to roll out of bed. But the sheets hold your legs fast and you end up half-in and half-out, you head resting on the floor. As you dangle there, you notice all sorts of things under you bed. Things that you had forgotten long ago. There's your childhood friend, pushing toy cars through a sand castle that you painstakenly built. Naturally, you killed him. And there's your 6th grade English teacher, holding his finger on a word in your book, asking you to sound it out. You killed him too. Suddenly, your heart breaks -- there's the only girl you ever loved. Long brown hair, pale white skin, delicate fingers wrapped around your throat, trying comically to choke you. You sign with genuine regret as you remember killing her too. Finally, you manage to get your legs untangled from the sheets and you stumble into the bathroom. As you relieve yourself, you make a mental note to ask the cleaning lady to clean under your bed.