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momebie“It’s not what I expected,” David said. He dangled one of his feet over the edge, kicking gravel as he did so, causing it to disappear soundlessly into the abyss below.
Rene pulled his right hand from his pocket and used it shield his eyes from the way the mid-afternoon sun was reflecting off the beiges and blues and reds of the stone canyon walls sprawling out in front of them. “It’s big. Huge. Grand, even. Goes on for fucking ever. What did you expect?”
“I just expected it to look more real. There’s no depth to it. It might as well be a backdrop.”
“There’s depth to it. Maybe you’re just ill-equipped to see it.”
“You’re honestly telling me that your eye can perceive where all of those walls and ridges and towers stand in relation to one another.”
“I’m good with walls.” Rene shrugged.
David pulled his foot back to solid ground and teetered for a moment, shooting his arms up and out to maintain balance. Rene watched him out of the corner of his eye, just in case it looked like he might go in. Not that it wouldn’t serve him right, the miserable idiot.
Rene had been perfectly happily unhappy in Denver. He’d hunkered down into settling for a quiet, unassuming life with no passion, just like everyone else he knew. He had beat back hope and hidden his journals. He’d let his poetry turn into shopping lists of benign compliments. He challenged no one and nothing and he was going to live a good long life because of it if his liver didn’t give out first.
Then David rode into town on his loud motorcycle with his loud mouth and his bright, vivid photographs of parts of the world Rene had always wanted to see and ruined everything. Rene might never forgive him for that. It was yet to be seen. The most important thing, the most painful thing, was that Rene was writing again. With my pictures and your words, we could rule the world, David would say. The idea of that scared the shit out of Rene.
And now here they were with three forty ounce bottles of beer, two pairs of jeans, and jacket between them. Here they were fighting for the keys to the car and over who got to choose the radio station on the hour. Here they were unshaven and hungry and tired, but still able to give sun bright smiles to pretty blondes at gas stations. The road fell away behind them and life rolled on and on and on.
Rene looked into the Grand Canyon and strained to see the floor of it as if he was down there. What would it look like, if he honed in on the smallest part of something so vast? It was the question he asked himself before he sat down to write anything. Seeing so much of the states was ruining that precision, making it harder to focus. How did you describe one beautiful thing when everything was beautiful?
David clapped him hard on the back of his neck and knocked him off balance. He reached and grabbed the tail of David’s leather jacket, trying not to fall in. “What are you thinking?” David said.
“Nothing. Impossible to think with you around.”
“So you say.” David slid his arm around Rene’s shoulder and knocked their heads together. “Isn’t it more than you’d ever hoped for?”
“I had hoped for nothing, so yes.”
“You’re so young to be so dead inside,” David said lightly.
“Not dead, quietly alive. Hope kills, David. Hope makes the fall ten times worse.”
“How’s hope treating you now?”
Rene lifted his eyes, searched the horizon for another sign of life--a bird or a mountain goat or a fat little squirrel. Something that would make him feel less like they weren’t the only two people in the world. If that feeling welled up inside of him and was knocked down, god only knew what would happen. Maybe he’d write great, miserable works of literature. David would be so proud to have spawned them too, regardless of the pain involved.
“The same way she always does,” Rene said.
“The mindfuck then.”
“The mindfuck.”
David squeezed Rene’s shoulder and pulled away. Rene could hear the crunch of David’s boots against the gravel and dry desert ground as he walked back to the car. If there was a more addictive drug than hope, Rene didn’t want to find it. As it was, the fall still might kill him.
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therealljidol Exhibit A, Week Five Topic: This is your brain on.... Concrit and comments are welcome.
Rene pulled his right hand from his pocket and used it shield his eyes from the way the mid-afternoon sun was reflecting off the beiges and blues and reds of the stone canyon walls sprawling out in front of them. “It’s big. Huge. Grand, even. Goes on for fucking ever. What did you expect?”
“I just expected it to look more real. There’s no depth to it. It might as well be a backdrop.”
“There’s depth to it. Maybe you’re just ill-equipped to see it.”
“You’re honestly telling me that your eye can perceive where all of those walls and ridges and towers stand in relation to one another.”
“I’m good with walls.” Rene shrugged.
David pulled his foot back to solid ground and teetered for a moment, shooting his arms up and out to maintain balance. Rene watched him out of the corner of his eye, just in case it looked like he might go in. Not that it wouldn’t serve him right, the miserable idiot.
Rene had been perfectly happily unhappy in Denver. He’d hunkered down into settling for a quiet, unassuming life with no passion, just like everyone else he knew. He had beat back hope and hidden his journals. He’d let his poetry turn into shopping lists of benign compliments. He challenged no one and nothing and he was going to live a good long life because of it if his liver didn’t give out first.
Then David rode into town on his loud motorcycle with his loud mouth and his bright, vivid photographs of parts of the world Rene had always wanted to see and ruined everything. Rene might never forgive him for that. It was yet to be seen. The most important thing, the most painful thing, was that Rene was writing again. With my pictures and your words, we could rule the world, David would say. The idea of that scared the shit out of Rene.
And now here they were with three forty ounce bottles of beer, two pairs of jeans, and jacket between them. Here they were fighting for the keys to the car and over who got to choose the radio station on the hour. Here they were unshaven and hungry and tired, but still able to give sun bright smiles to pretty blondes at gas stations. The road fell away behind them and life rolled on and on and on.
Rene looked into the Grand Canyon and strained to see the floor of it as if he was down there. What would it look like, if he honed in on the smallest part of something so vast? It was the question he asked himself before he sat down to write anything. Seeing so much of the states was ruining that precision, making it harder to focus. How did you describe one beautiful thing when everything was beautiful?
David clapped him hard on the back of his neck and knocked him off balance. He reached and grabbed the tail of David’s leather jacket, trying not to fall in. “What are you thinking?” David said.
“Nothing. Impossible to think with you around.”
“So you say.” David slid his arm around Rene’s shoulder and knocked their heads together. “Isn’t it more than you’d ever hoped for?”
“I had hoped for nothing, so yes.”
“You’re so young to be so dead inside,” David said lightly.
“Not dead, quietly alive. Hope kills, David. Hope makes the fall ten times worse.”
“How’s hope treating you now?”
Rene lifted his eyes, searched the horizon for another sign of life--a bird or a mountain goat or a fat little squirrel. Something that would make him feel less like they weren’t the only two people in the world. If that feeling welled up inside of him and was knocked down, god only knew what would happen. Maybe he’d write great, miserable works of literature. David would be so proud to have spawned them too, regardless of the pain involved.
“The same way she always does,” Rene said.
“The mindfuck then.”
“The mindfuck.”
David squeezed Rene’s shoulder and pulled away. Rene could hear the crunch of David’s boots against the gravel and dry desert ground as he walked back to the car. If there was a more addictive drug than hope, Rene didn’t want to find it. As it was, the fall still might kill him.
therealljidol Exhibit A, Week Five Topic: This is your brain on.... Concrit and comments are welcome.
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no subject
Date: 2013-02-22 11:52 pm (UTC)(06:48:26 PM) theunforgivables: Oh I liked mombie's
(06:48:34 PM) theunforgivables: Is it bad that I shipped Rene and David?
(06:48:36 PM) theunforgivables: lolol
(06:48:38 PM) Sarah: And yeah I liked hers too
(06:48:41 PM) Sarah: No I did too
(06:48:48 PM) Sarah: Were we not supposed to?
(06:48:56 PM) Sarah: Ship them, I mean
(06:48:59 PM) theunforgivables: lolol I think that's up for debate
(06:49:05 PM) theunforgivables: But I'm totally leaving that comment
(06:49:07 PM) Sarah: Oh I assumed we were supposed to
(06:49:12 PM) theunforgivables: hahaha
(06:49:22 PM) theunforgivables: I never assume we're supposed to ship anything
(06:49:25 PM) theunforgivables: I just ship things
;) I really did enjoy this very much. :D
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