I. It’s the second evening in a long legend of quiet retreat in which I’ve ventured to the outside world. Cigarette smoke begins replacing the air in the hall where bodies once were were-packed in tight to watch real humans in flight. After crashing a table of acquaintance gym rats I slip away silently into the night. My breath merges with the fog thick air. (I have resolutions to tend to this coming year.)
II. Ready for the Floor (play this)
III. I am sitting at a restaurant with two strangers I met moments before. To my right is a wall. To my left, a massive woman dressed in black. She is carefully put together with her short dark hair & pale skin painted over by foundation. Bubbling up from her soul is a full blown rant spiced by the salt of her margarita.
Across from me is a tall lanky man, shaved head in a beige trench coat as the evening wears on he dares to interject approvals and interpretations of her gospel.
“You are so timid,” she says, ” There’s a lot of fear in you…but you’re brave too. When you walk away I want you to take something with you. I want you to understand that tomorrow, when you wake up, you can choose to do whatever you want. Do you understand that? You can choose to do whatever you want. This is really important…Every morning you start with a blank slate.”
They pick up the tab.
We part ways.