03:46 a.m. – Houston, Texas

Posted on May 2, 2010

2


― The security man is on guard, alone. He’s fat and he feels old enough to be his own father. He walks through the tunnels under the city. Every night on duty he wonders about the people who clean the food and the gunk off the floor a few hours before he begins his rounds. It makes him a little hungry to think that. It is a tad chilly because they don’t heat the underground pathways at night in this city of energy. Bunch of bozos, he thinks, I don’t want to run into a bunch of bozos. He likes the sound of that. But the passage is locked shut now, nobody could get here. His boots make clicking sounds on the marble floor. His wife’s stilettos. He misses her. The scent of a woman’s neck: why is it so hard to find someone who smells right.  Suddenly, his flashlight goes out and he feels the darkness lick him all over with a giant velvety tongue, tender yet daunting . At that moment he knows that he’s in a giant anthill, that he’s walking towards his grave and that he must get out of here as fast as he can to stay alive. He begins to run.

(Excerpt from ‘Faces’ – all of the Earth’s 24 time zones on Christmas Eve)

Advertisements
Tagged: