after the rain —
the tiniest puddle
in my wine glass
you need this
extra special blogs
poet, technologist, cynic, father of five, child of chaos, punker, prankster, patriot, punster, leftist, latino, japanophile, audiophile, beer drinker, quiche eater, dog walker, soft talker, deep thinker, shallow sleeper, introvert, covert operative in a parallel universe.
|extra special bitter|
|hops are bitter. life is bitter. coincidence?||
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Monday, March 29, 2010
dream sequence - Part 16
I used to work here, but I didn’t come back to renew old acquaintances. It was after hours, and all of the technical staff had gone home for the day, leaving the second shift meandering the long, dark hallways. It looked largely unchanged, endless institutional green walls and speckled gray linoleum floors. My old office was on the furthest side of the sprawling compound. It looked remarkably similar to the way I had left it, except that it was far more cramped and cluttered, and the two analysts’ desks had been replaced with beds. After closing the door behind us, I threw down my briefcase and collapsed on the closest one. You followed suit, your innocent laugh quickly unwrapping itself into a seductive kiss.
There was a knock on the door, which opened up without so much as a word from either of us. A familiar face poked in. “Oh, you’re back,” he said.
“Not back to stay,” I corrected him, “just back in town. I thought I’d show my colleague our posh digs.”
I gave a hasty introduction, trying to radiate my annoyance and impatience. You, of course, were a good sport throughout.
And then people kept showing up — some of them known to me, but most of them strangers. I didn’t think there were that many people still in the building at this hour.
An elaborate prayer circle formed outside our door. When enough people had gathered, they streamed into the office. Half of them lay on the bed on their backs, kicking their legs in a synchronized dance. The rest joined hands and danced in a circle. You and I were caught up in it — I was growing furious, while you remained good-natured and amused.
The dancing stopped. A tiny woman confronted me. “You have to stop what you’re doing. It’s wrong.”
“I will,” I replied, more as a reflex than anything else.
“You know what I’m talking about.”
“Do you want me?” she asked with a wry smile.
“No,” I replied, without hesitation.
She winked, smiled and squeezed my hand.
“So I hear you used to work here.”
“Word travels fast.”
“You have no idea.”
“Why do you think I left?”
A former co-worker led a small group of engineers into the office, which was now overflowing with people. “I just tried calling you, but you didn’t pick up.”
“I can’t imagine why I couldn’t hear the phone,” I said with an obviously magnified volume. People began filing out one by one. The conversation started turning seriously technical. I wasn’t in the mood.
“If you give me your business card, I can send you some white papers that aren’t on the website.” That seemed to get a faint response. “But it will have to wait until tomorrow.”
They took the hint. Pretty soon it was just the two of us, and now I couldn’t wait to leave. As I locked the door behind me, you gave me a long, comforting hug. The emergency exit sign glimmered in your eyes. You were impossibly sweet.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Dream Sequence - Part 15
Apparently we were back on friendly terms — not the case in real life — and you were in need regarding your former house. The most recent owners had worked wonders with it — resurfacing hardwood floors, replacing intricate woodwork and repainting tastefully throughout — but they were mysteriously no longer in the picture, and you — somehow — were. Except that you weren’t, and that’s where I came in. Confused? So was I. Then I woke up.
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Tuesday, March 02, 2010
Monday, March 01, 2010
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