Tuesday, October 5, 2010

In Trouble For The Things I Haven't Got To Yet

Woke up in an airport on the other side of the country this morning. The cattle surrounding me spoke with peculiar accents and paid no attention to me. Had it not been for the public address welcoming travelers I would have had no idea where I was. When "Boston" registered in my brain a sinking feeling laid upon me. I had no earthly reason to be there. My phone had no messages or email. My calendar read "vacation" in bold letters through all of this week. When I read Tuesday on the date bar it seemed so foreign to me. I remember spending the night with Candace on Thursday. Four days of no account. The blackouts are getting worse. After a few minutes of bewilderment I headed to the restroom to collect myself. In the solitude of a stall I began to rifle through my coat and pants pockets for clues. I came across a plane ticket to take me back to the city. I found some comfort in that minute detail being resolved. In the left breast pocket of my coat I found a small container holding two bright green eyeballs. They answered at least part of the reason for coming to Boston. The eyes were quite exquisite. Just looking at them I could feel the blood engorging my member, imagining the pain and suffering that yielded such an exotic treasure. Tearing myself away from the objects of my attraction I continued my search. It didn't reveal anymore surprises. After a quick splash of water to the face, I returned to the concourse more attuned to my surroundings. I surveyed the area for police, spotting a few at the far end laughing and joking over coffee and doughnuts. About an hour later I quietly boarded my flight and drifted into a dreamless sleep.

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