He pulled a cigarette from the pack, drew it to his lips, crushing it slightly in his careless grasp, set fire to the end of it and took a deep, long breath of nicotine-filled smoke. He just stared out into the night sky. Our conversations sometimes stop like this. I hated him a little for this, too. Not for killing the conversation, though. No, the talk was mindless chatter to me. No. I hated him for his ability to withdraw from this world. Just looking at him, I could tell he was somewhere very far away. I wondered if the cancer was kicking in yet or not.

"Do you think we'll ever get there?" he asked.
"We're not actually going anywhere," I replied.
"No, out there. Far out there, into the light. Do you think that'll ever happen for us." He said it more as a statement than a question.
"I don't know," I exhaled, slightly bemused by this sudden change of thought.

He didn't reply after that. I just sat there on the porch while he stood with his cigarette burning slowly in his hand. He should have been an astronaut. Of all the people I knew, he could probably do it. There was something in him that just let him keep going, even when everything was going to shit. It was another ten minutes of looking out into the stars before he spoke again. During that time, I wondered how many of those lights were snuffed out already. I wondered why I was so morbid all the time. I guess I'm just a product of the grisly times in which we live.

"You know, I never spoke to her after that."

I didn't reply. There was really nothing I could say to him. After everything that had happened, it just didn't seem right.

"It's the stars. They remind me of her, somehow. Maybe that's where everything that you've lost goes when it's gone. Out into the stars..."

I stood up, pulling a cigarette from the pack. I clumsily lit the end of it and breathed in my own brand of cancer. The stars were brilliant that night.

"Ya. Maybe," I answered.

She said, "no, it doesn't matter." But, something in her voice convinced me not to believe her. Or perhaps, it was the fire in her eyes, that will to defy, that so captivates me and forces me into these capitulating circumstances. I would have argued if not for my own arcane desire. How can you question the love of another without opening old wounds? No good would come from continuing this line of questioning and I would certainly not achieve my own goals. Still, I couldn't help but wonder if there really was an end to all of this. Could it be possible to relinquish the past to the deepest recesses of the heart, or would it remain always entwined in the fabric of her being? Perhaps, I wasn't the one to ask being that I had my fair share of scars. I said, "okay," and led her to the queen-sized bed. I loved her intensity, though I knew I could never trust her wild heart. Her skin felt like velvet on mine, and I kissed her with passion, hoping to wash away the stains of my own doubts and misgivings. Hoping she could forget the ominous past that threatened to steal this moment away from me.

Plastic Bags and Hand Grenades

I medicate to ease my mind
Of all the ones who waste my time
To forgive is to forget none
Take a chance, it might be fun

I smoke a lot but who's to say
I won't become you some day
And slit my wrists, oh I'm so bored
The excess of always wanting more

Plastic bags and hand grenades
All I need is in my way
Life's a game, or so they say
Whose turn is it now, anyway?

I'm alive and I'm so young
What more could now go wrong?
I lost my mind, or just my face
Either/or scratch and replace

Take a dive and ride the bars
Alcohol and cash-car-stars
Adolescent pre-paid noose
What they say must be truth

I could play the game and dress like you
A cozy grin and business suit
Sell it all until the soul is gone
Everything where it belongs

Life's a game
Or so they say

- Solus

Onto you, thus I speak.

To this world, I do not belong. I was born of this world, but never to be part of it. It is neither whether this world was ready for my self, nor whether my soul was ready for this world. These arguments are without solution, but by the will of Sol, I was placed within this world. In death, my peace will be given to me. In solitude, will I sing requiem. This is the future for all souls who follow this path.

My love I give onto you, freely and without recompense, for love is all that I can give if you are willing to accept. My sons will be born of love onto this world, with the hope that they may find a world far more kind than the one I see before me. I pray that they may find a peace that was never granted to me. I pray they find comfort in the arms of a mother, both caring and just.

- Solus

A Letter to You

To you:

At 1:23am, when there is no one left to talk to since anyone with any normal life would be sleeping now, I am still awake, my thoughts plagued with sadness. I guess all I can really say is that I really do care about you. I wish things were different than the way they are now. And, I know there is nothing that I can do to change this, because I have no right to do so. I know that this really shouldn't affect me, bother me, the way it does, but I have always had the hardest time just watching as this world tears people apart. I really wish I could make things better for you, because this whole ordeal fills me with such a great sadness.

Maybe if I wasn't alone as I am now, things would be different. I asked her tonight, if she had stayed, would things be different now. I like to believe they would be, but then again I was in a different world, then. I suppose this has as much to do witth my longing for the few good things in my life, all of whom are too far from me now, as it does with my desire for you to be happy. But, I just can't explain the actions of other people. I can read people's actions and feelings, but that does not mean I can understand why they feel or act that way. I wish I could give you some sort of solace in all of this, but I can only offer it as a "learning experience", which I know is no solace whatsoever. I wish I could say this to you now, but I know that I can't. I wanted to write this anyway, because I needed to say something. I needed someone to know that I am sorry that this is happening.

Your friend,

Solus

I thought I'd re-post this poem again, after finding it the other night. I suppose this represents my incredibly romantic side. It comes from Media Blackout, but I would like it to be here too.

-------

Before I come clean
I hope that you are listening
I had been broken, battered
But, now, none of that matters

Before I met you
I was a ghost of gray and blue
And the fire in my soul
Had extinguished, grown cold

Before I speak clear
Before you draw too near
Don't let the past bring you down
Don't let anyone push you around

I see the silent beauty in your eyes
It reminds me of the silence in mine
And I hope that you can understand
I can't offer much, but I am what I am
I am what I am

So, if my heart is not so soft
And my hands grow too rough
That does not mean I don't feel
It doesn't make this less real

Now, if you can take notice
If I haven't blundered through this
I mean to say, I will do what I can
And I want you to understand
I am what I am
And I hope that's enough
I hope you understand

- Solus

New Jersey Screws Everyone

With record-breaking voter turnout last night, Republicans throughout the state voted in force, causing what was predicted to be an Obama win into the hands of McCain. In fact, across all levels of government, the Garden State voted red in all catagories, causing a severe shift in power in both the House and the Senate. With Joe Liberman crossing the line over to the red seats, it appears now that all branches of government are firmly in the hands of the Republican party.

And then I woke up with a cold sweat all over my body.

Election Day

You will be hard-pressed to see me very concerned with politics, but I feel that today is a good day for me to talk about it. This election, I felt no overwhelming support for either candidate. In most cases, I agree in parts with each of them, and disagree in others. I tend to think of myself as a moderate. A hardcore moderate. In fact, I greatly mistrust any strong leanings towards liberalism or conservatism. Democrats or Republicans. Theoretically, this world should not be a difficult place to coexist in, but as with most things, the reality is less than desirable. At this point, I already know who our next president is going to be, the loser admitting his defeat. And, to be honest, I am neither happy nor sad about this outcome. It just is what it is.

But, I write mainly to advise against leaning too far in any direction. For the most part, I believe that people are happy living out their lives the best they can, and politics play very little in their day to day lives. We all pay taxes. We all die. These are facts. Speaking as a scientist, most things in this world strive to approach equilibrium. And, I feel like that is something for which we should all strive.

In short, whomever you wanted to win this election, just remember that candidate's opponent may not have been wrong or their ideas without some merit.

And, btw, I am proud that our nation has chosen to elect Obama.

Twenty-Fourth Birthday

Generally, I do not enjoy birthdays. My twenty-fourth birthday was shaping up to be no exception. My father had rented this cabin out in the woods. It looked like it used to be an old hunting outpost converted into a summer camp. The whole thing was built on a slight incline, and you could see the grass had melted away from the traditional walking paths that people tended to create. There was a fire going, even though it was still early afternoon. My father was cooking at the grill and people started to show up. Perhaps what upset me the most was the fact that I did not invite anyone to this party, it was entirely based on my father's judgment. So, needless to say, the guest list was slightly inappropriate.

If anything, it felt more like a gathering of people who all had something against me. Long forgotten friends kept showing up. People I had spoken to in years, for one reason or another. Perhaps anger, perhaps neglect. Many of them were recent additions to my ever-growing collection of mistakes. Heh, one of the girls even told me I wasn't as cute as I used to be. It took me a few minutes to figure out how I felt about that. Since I was already in a crappy mood, I just took it and moved on. Apparently, an action in which I'm extremely practiced. Though, when my ex-girlfriend showed up with her new boyfriend, I knew I just couldn't take this anymore. (His hair was dark and curly, by the way.)

I took one of the dogs and started walking into the woods. Of course, my father saw me do this, and sent a few of his friends to come with me along with some more dogs so we could go fox hunting. Not really what I had in mind, but I suppose it was better than reliving a short lifetime of mistakes and bad memories. As we walked through the woods, the dogs eagerly sniffing along the dirty leaves, we came upon an old cabin. Out of the window, I swore a fox stuck poked its head out, driving the dogs into a frenzy. I let go of mine. What the hell, right? Another dog followed him through the slightly ajar door. They were unusually quiet, until I heard one of the dogs give out a high-pitched yelp. I went through the door to find one of the dogs with all of his hair singed off. The thing was still smoking slightly, his eyes downcast in shame and failure. I went and grabbed the canine, but he was not hot, just missing all of his hair. I carried him out of the house, not wanting to find whatever did this to him. Was it the fox? Perhaps a live electrical circuit? Nothing really made sense; I just knew I wanted to be as far away from there as possible.

There are few songs that I hear that can drastically change my mood. This song instantly makes me realize how powerful and important it is to be human. And, no matter how down and out you and I may feel, we can rise together.

Rise

So much pain we
Don't know how to be but angry
Feel infected like we've got gangrene
Please don't let anybody try to change me
Me
Just Me
In the middle of a sea full of faces
Full of faces
Some laugh, some salivate
What's in your alleyway?
Recycling bins or bullet cases?
It's not equal
It's not fair
We're different people
But, we're not scared
We ain't never scared
To pave a new path
Make a new street
Build a new bridge
Say can you see by the dawn's early light
Free slaves running
Song's words weren't right
Now a new day's coming
The few stay stunning while the many are handsome
Your soul is alive but they want it for ransom
The bass drumming is the anthem
We step to the heartbeats of our granddaughters and grandsons
And rise together
We rise together

We Rise Together!

Lost hope and found need
Grounded by our surroundings
Did the walls scream universities
Or you and i verse the tees
React automatic and we burst when squeezed
And make 9-11 each emergency
Urgency amber to red like the turning leaves
Oh please let the hurting cease
Don't let apathy police the populace
We will march across
Those stereotypes that were marked for us
The answers obvious
We switch the consonants
Change the sword to words and lift continent

And rise together
We Rise Together!
We Rise Together!

If you believe in redemption (Rise)
I'm calling to you from another dimension (Rise)

We Rise Together!

- Flobots

Lack of Colour

My girlfriend and I were walking one October afternoon. She was saying how the comment I left on her blog after that guy was pretty harsh. I probably shouldn’t be so aggressive when it comes to other guys, but I guess there’s just some insecurity there. Perhaps, it’s my innate territorial nature. Still, she was being coy and insinuating that she could be with any guy that she wanted. I felt like she was saying that she didn’t need me, at all. In a lot of ways, our relationship had been so rocky over the last year that there was probably some truth in these misgivings. Despite assurances, it was always in the back of my mind. I looked at her. She was beautiful, just like I remembered. Her dark hair had streaks of gold from the reflecting sun. It was so bright all the colors were washed out.

But, when the sun moved back behind a cloud and my black-and-white world came back into color, I couldn’t shake acute pressure inside my heart. This was not the right girl. This was not my girlfriend. It was the way the sun reflected from her face. The way the light created a gleam in her hair. It was the hair, most of all. It was the wrong color. It was dark, when it should be blonde.

The Batman Needs a Girlfriend

Dick mentioned it first, though I'm sure Alfred had suspected it for awhile. He's generally too subtle to come out and say such things. But, the Batman needed a girlfriend. Not necessarily Bruce, but the Batman. Of course, I didn't realize this had been an ongoing argument in the cave. No, at the time I met the Batman, I was too busy screaming for my life to really be contemplating such high minded ideas. Living in Gotham is always an adventure. People often wonder why anyone in the world would want to live there, but once you do, it's hard to live anywhere else. And, of course, the nightlife is insane. Literally, they're all crazies. I was strung upside down on Gotham Bridge, and that clown just thought it was the funniest thing ever. I'm not really sure if there was a point to the whole thing, but the Batman was taking it very seriously. And, as usual, he beat that Joker to a pulp. And that's when my rope was cut and I started plummeting. Since I had my eyes closed the entire time, I didn't really notice the Batman jump after me. I just felt something around my waist. The Batman caught me and we were swinging toward the support rope. Thank god for that bridge. We slid down one of the ropes, but the police were everywhere, and it's not like his car has anywhere to hide on a bridge. Actually, I didn't really see it anywhere. I kinda felt bad, because here were the police coming from every side, and it looked like the Batman was pretty much screwed. As the blaring sirens approached, I decided there was only one way out of this. I ran to my car, and told him to get in. Much to my surprise he actually did. He slumped in the passenger seat and I peeled off racing past the cops on the bridge. As I flew through the city lights of Gotham, I couldn't help but realize how cool it was to have the Batman in my car. How many people can say that? I looked over, and that's when I noticed the knife shoved in his stomach, bleeding profusely. I believe my exact words at the time were "Oh shit! We need to get to a hospital!!" That's when he muttered something (which I realized later was the correct assumption) about Wayne Manor. Pretty much everyone in Gotham knows where that pretty boy lives, but I really didn't think that's what he meant, until he said it again. Oh well, he's the Batman, right? Probably knows what he's talking about. I pushed my car as hard as it could, screaming through the Gotham limits.

I got to the gate of the manor, and pushed that comm button over and over again. As if the more I pushed it the faster I'd get a response. I heard an Englishman on the other end, probably the staff. I spoke into the box "umm... I have the Batman here to see you." I was remarkably calm, especially given the situation. The Gates immediately opened and I pulled up to the steps of the manor. The english butler came out, and immediately opened the passanger door to lift the Batman out of the car. His breathing was beginning to become shallow. I helped to carry him inside the manor. We didn't walk very far to get to the study. The butler did something strange to the piano and a secret door opened! I helped carry him into the elevator, and down we went. Suddenly, the elevator stopped. I was in the Batman's secret lair! There was what I can only describe as an operating table. I helped the butler, who remained silent this entire time, place the body on the table. That's when I backed away and the butler started working on him immediately. I'm pretty sure it was about when he started the blood transfusion that I passed out. The adrenaline in my body had just run out. What a day.

I woke up some time later with the Englishman slapping my face, lightly. I was still where I had fallen, though a pillow was placed under my head. "Sir? Wake up, sir." I woke up, dazed. "How are you feeling? That was a bit of a fall you took." I mutterred that I was doing okay, just a little confused. "Certainly. Here, please drink some water." Thanks, I said. And, I drank the entire glass. The night's events started coming back to me, and I realized that that Batman was dying! Where's the Batman? I said. "He's doing just fine. Nothing he hasn't dealt with before. Do you feel well enough to stand up?" I did, and I got up shakily. The body of the Batman was still lying on the table with his abnomen wrapped in bloody tape. I started looking around. It was a giant cave filled with all sorts of crazy memorabilia. There was a giant dollar coin, a big computer, a dinosaur. It looked a little like a museum. "Here, sir, let's go upstairs." And I was led back up the elevator, into Wayne Manor. Why would the Batman's cave be under Wayne Manor?

When the thought struck me, I gave a little chuckle. It was a pretty funny idea. But, then it started to make more and more sense, and I just couldn't believe what I was realizing. The Englishman, who I learned later that night is named Alfred, led me to the door with a suggestion that I probably had many things to do that day. In fact, I did. I was going to be late for work. The day seemed to go in slow motion, though, with that thought constantly bouncing around my head. I was in a daze. My boss even mentioned how I looked like hell. I probably did. I hadn't showered in days. Finally, I made it to my apartment, showered, laid down, and instantly fell asleep.

I was startled when I woke up to find him standing there. The Batman was standing in my room, near the open window. It scared the shit out of me. And, I couldn't help but wonder what is with this guy. How does he miraculously get better from a knife wound overnight? "You saved my life last night. I came to say thank you," he said in that really creepy voice. You scared the shit out of me, coming in here like that. And what are you doing here, anyway? You should be at home or something. Man, you need a girlfriend or something. "What did you just say?" Right about then I was debating the wisdom in smack talking the Batman, but then the scariest thing in my life happened. The Batman started laughing. Seriously, that's just creepy. "I've been getting that a lot lately at home, actually. Everyone says it'll be good for me. Maybe they're right after all." I said nothing. I thought I was probably dreaming anyway. "I want you to come with me on a mission tomorrow night. I could use the help of someone like you." Now, really, do you say 'no' to the Batman? I certainly don't think so. I nodded my head, and thinking about yesterday's events stuttered a 'yes'. "Good," and with that he was gone. A secret mission with the Batman? Every day, my life gets a little stranger.

He came early that evening. I was again in my apartment, but we climbed the fire escape to the roof. There, some kind of airplane in the shape of a bat was waiting. He said, "Climb in, and don't touch anything." I got in and sat in the back seat. It was surprisingly comfortable. I guess when you have a bajillion dollars you can splurge on bat-shaped planes. We didn't fly too long, and landed near a very nice building, the JLA headquarters. How bad was this mission that he needed the entire Justice League? We headed inside the building, into a smaller room to the left which contained a few round tables in a study. In the room was Superman, Wonder Woman, Zatanna, etc. I really couldn't believe that they actually wear those costumes all the time. Especially the women. That cannot be comfortable, but hell I'm not going to start complaining. With them were all of these other people. The only one I recognized was Jimmy Olsen. You know "Superman's Pal". Right when I was about to ask what was going on, the Batman turned to me. He said, "I needed a partner for the poker tournament we are playing for various charities. You were the only non-superbeing I knew at the time, so I brought you. I hope you play good." And with that, we walked up one of the round tables and began to play cards.

Poker with the Batman.

Inconsistent Future's Morning

It was late October, and the mornings were starting to get cold. So, we slept in fairly late. Her hair was black again. Perhaps, it's governed by the weather, after all. Still, I was slightly surprised to see her sleeping next to me, but I've grown to accept that irregularities of life. We lied in bed and talked softly for awhile. Since it was late morning, I decided that Sparky, my Australian sheepherder, should be let outside. We got up and put on the the same clothes we had yesterday. I made a pot of coffee. The warm cups felt good in our hands. I couldn't stop staring at her, everything seemed so surreal. She seemed happy, too. I grabbed a ball, and we walked outside, with Sparky racing past us, excited as always to be going outside. I threw the ball out into the yard. He zoomed after it. The ball barely had enough time to hit the ground. I always enjoyed throwing the ball through the leaves to watch him go crashing through the piles. She went to the other side of the yard to catch the ball, causing Sparky to race back and forth between us. The mailman came and Sparky quickly lost interest in the game, running towards the gate to try to get the mailman. He was slightly surprised by the dog, and asked me if he would bite. I said, probably not, but I didn't really want to find out. She stayed in the yard while I pulled Sparky back. She was a vision as the wind swept by causing her hair to flow about as the golden leaves floated past her. A beautiful morning.

A friend sent this to me.

One Art

The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.


--Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

- Elizabeth Bishop

Solus,

What the fuck is going on? You've been hanging around for too many years now, using others to slowly kill yourself. The process is so slow. Why do you even bother? If you had any strength to you, you would resolve this problem yourself, alone. Isn't that what your name means, anyway? Alone? Get over yourself already. Get over everything. The meaninglessness that seems to escape your notice has not escaped me. Well, you can count me out on this one. I have no use of you anymore.

- Solus

Of nothing in particular

It's not the first time. Most likely, the fifth or sixth. It becomes hard to keep track. As with most people, she just wanted to belong. To be loved. She'd never been in love, but she was sure that she wanted to be. They had fought over this many times. She just wanted to be with him. Why couldn't he see that? Tripping over herself in every way, she followed him blindly. The control, unknowingly taken, was completely within his grasp. It had never been this way before for her. Never before had anyone had such control over her, as he did now. And, she knew he was special because of it. But, of course, when it came down to being more than just friends, the situation became complicated. It could never work out. And she swore that night, she would stay away from him from now on. She would sleep on the couch.

Did she ask herself why, then, it was so difficult to slide her arm from underneath him to leave his bed in the morning?

It's so late
I really must be asleep
Your vision appears before me
And, I sleep all right
When you came here
You damn near saved my life
On the edge of my bed
Staring down the ghosts
The countless nights awake
And, you, a vision of grace
And delight
In the way you hold me tight
A moment's repose
Silent peace within your golden hair
Arrayed in the moonlight
Coloured by the blue of your eyes
Drawing you close to me
Right where I want to be
Here within your arms
Hands gripping tight
To never let go of the moment
Which is ours alone
You make me believe in love.

- Solus

Golden Retriever

I was seven or eight when I first heard the story. It was one of those simple things that becomes a profound thread in a person's life. It seemed this story was told just for me. I heard the story of a golden retriever. When a golden retriever grows up with a family, it learns to love them unconditionally. As it grows older and older, it slowly becomes aware of its own mortality. Days prior before death, a golden retriever will run away from home, leaving behind the people it loved more than anything else in the world. It was not abandoning them. Rather, in his own way, he was saving them the pain of having to watch him die. It could not bring itself to harm them, even in death. It's hard to understand this decision. To die alone, when it could be surrounded by loved ones, but I understood it perfectly, even at a young age. And, often, I wish I could run away, now.

In the Mob

Son of a bitch. I have no idea what the hell goes on in my head half of the time. I must seriously be crazy to get myself in this position. Once you're in, you stay in until you retire. There's no going against that. Unfortunately, I just can't stay any longer. That's why I intended on turning state's witness. But, of course, those fucking feds had to go and fuck everything up. Apparently, they had a guy on the inside already, and if I leave now, it'd ruin everything. Too bad, it's not my problem. They didn't tell me who the guy was either. So, I'm totally screwed. If anyone finds out about this, I'm dead.

I met with the feds two days ago. A guy and a girl. She wasn't too bad looking. I've always been crazy about the red-heads. But really, not my type. Too uptight. Besides, you could just tell there was something going on between them. Partners, I'm sure. They told me they'd get me out, just as soon as this next job was finished. Of course, this next job just happens to involve a shit ton of money. And I am one of the key players.

I was to meet them under the bridge. I drove one of those non-descript white vans. Yes, they really do use them, just like the movies. I decided it'd be better to get there on the earlier side, just in case something went wrong. The morning sun was still bright, and the heat was beginning to pick up, despite the cool autumn air. A few minutes after I arrived, another van showed up. I got out of my van, as they approached. I leaned against the drivers door, as the approaching van pulled up, crunching dirt underneath its tires. Two men came out of the van, and that's when the first of many surprises occurred. One of them was the FBI agent I met the other day. The guy.

The surprise on my face must have been clear, as the man he was with asked me what was wrong. I lied and told him it was nothing. No use in blowing his cover when I still needed him to get me out of this. I was handed a gun and told, 'just in case'. I really hate guns. We moved the cash (and it was a lot of cash) from my van into the other to be delivered to the boss. When the job was done, I started walking back to the van to leave. "Wait a minute." It was man with the FBI agent. I turned around to find a gun pointed at me.

"I've been hearing some strange rumors, you know. That you might be turning state," said the man.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I replied. I think I began to sweat a little.

"Sure you don't. See, I've been thinking. With this rumor going on about you, it wouldn't be too big a leap to say you just took all the money and ran. I tried to stop you, but I just couldn't."

"What?"

"Hey, what are you talking about?" questioned the agent.

"Think about it. All this cash could just going missing. It could be ours, and we have the perfect scapegoat. He might not even be found, especially at the bottom of the river."

I couldn't believe this. This wasn't happening. I slowly pulled out the gun I was handed. Just in case, right? I was fast. He didn't even have time to do anything. I had my gun on him in seconds. The man just smiled at me.

"Oh, you think you're going to shoot me? It's gonna be kinda hard without any bullets in that gun." He laughed.

I pulled the trigger to hear only a click. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. Fuck. The agent was trying to say something to the man, but I couldn't hear it. I dove toward the truck just as a bullet flew past me. I stumbled and struggled to put the van between myself and the man. Can't shoot me through a van, right? More shots were fired. I was a dead man. I was quickly cornered. As I sat on the ground, staring into the barrel of the gun, I started to hear the agents words a little clearer.

"Don't do it. He's more useful alive."

"How's that?"

"If you leave him alive, think of all the time that will be spent on trying to hunt him down to get the money, rather than the circumstances on how the money went missing. On that, no one would believe him, since we can say how he was talking to the Feds the whole time. It'll give us enough time to work the money through the system so that it can't be traced." This agent was a lot smarter than he looked.

"Hm. That's a good plan, actually. Alright, let's see how long he lasts."

I just sat there. I wanted to start thanking the agent, but I decided silence would have been a lot more beneficial. I sat there and waited until they drove away with the money. I had to get to the boss as quickly as I could. Before they got there. I drove as fast as I could, knowing exactly where to go.

The place used to be a summer camp. I remember it vividly as a child, every building and every playground. I didn't have much time for nostalgia at the moment, though. I decided to take a short cut through one of the buildings. As I neared the door to go out the other side, I saw men standing outside the window. I listened carefully. They had taken my friend, Bugra, and were questioning him. They wanted to know where I was and to whom I had been talking. I was too late, and they had Bugra. I stood on a small wooden stool to see better. They had him by the woods. Two men with guns pointed at him and the boss stood to the side.

"Don't kill him yet. I want to get the other one before that. Shoot them together, wouldn't that be nice?" the boss asked rhetorically. That's when the stool beneath me snapped and I fell with a loud thud. "What was that?"

The two men came started for the door as I ran through the other side. They spotted me, and started chasing after me. Fortunately, I knew the place better than any of them did. The two henchmen split up and tried to corner me several times, but each time I was able to slip away from them. I started to make toward my van to get out of there, when I noticed another white van. Could it really be? Finally, something started going my way. I ran toward the van to find the man who tried to kill me standing there. He must not have even noticed my fist as I rammed it into his face as hard as I could. He probably only remembers me standing over his ugly, profusely bleeding face. I grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and lifted him off the ground while I screamed into his face, "Where's the money!? I'll kill you! Where's the fucking money?"

He sputtered blood as he muttered "van". I let him fall to the ground with a thud, and he just lay there. I opened the back of the van to find the bags of money. I didn't have the time to count them all, but I grabbed one as proof. Running as fast as I could, I found the boss standing with Bugra. Showing him the money, "Here. I didn't take the money, I swear. It's all here. Don't kill me or Bugra, please!"

The mob boss looked at the money, and smiled. "Kill you? Who said anything about killing you? I just wanted to talk to you. I'd never kill one of my trusted employees. And, here you are with the money, just like promised."

I wasn't sure whether to believe him or not, but at that point, I didn't really have much of a choice. The two henchmen came up behind me, and grabbed my arms. I didn't even bother to struggle.

"Ah, boys, let 'em go. I want to talk to little Joey here for a bit. Privately." I was instantly released. And nudged in the direction of the boss. As I neared him, I put an arm around my shoulder. "You and I are going to have a bit of a talk." He led me inside one of the buildings. One side of the building was fixed with a tarp to keep the rain out. He muttered something about construction and then offered me a drink. I gladly accepted a scotch on the rocks, and we sat down in front of a television. I was freaking out a bit too much to notice what was on.

"Joey, being in charge is a tough job. There's so much pressure. On top of that, the wife has been acting a bit funny, lately. There's..." I started to zone out. This was just overwhelmingly surreal. Here was the head of one of the largest crime syndicates spilling his guts to me. He asked me if there was anything that'd been troubling me lately. I told him about this call I had gotten from an old flame of mine, and how it was just troubling to hear that voice again. He offered to take care of it for me. I wasn't sure whether he was joking or now, but I decided to decline, just in case. We spent the rest of the afternoon talking about life and future plans together, just as if we had been old friends.

Call From Europe

:: censored ::

Stay (Just a little longer)

When I speak of happiness
I find myself singing for you
And I found I was wrong
Believing my heart dead and blue

And sleepless nights fade
Within your warm embrace
Your soft touch so gentle
Your kiss so sweet and safe

So, please stay with me
Just a little while longer
I so often feel so weak
With you, I am stronger

When I speak of the good things
In which life holds in store
I find myself thinking of you
I find myself wanting you more

And those thoughts of emptiness
Disappear in morning’s light
Waking in peace complete
Finding you still by my side

So, please stay with me
Just a little while longer
I so often feel so weak
For you, I am stronger

- Solus

End of the Basketball Game

It was the final seconds of the game. The team was up by one, but we just got ourselves into a "1 and 1" situation. If they made both baskets, we would lose the game. It's one of those situations you hate to get into when you're a coach. They lined up down at the foul line. Swish... Damn. Tied game. "Time Out!" I yell to the ref. It's one of those tricks used to rattle the shooter. Make him sweat it out a bit and feel the pressure. We'd only have one shot at this, so this is where it all came down to it. I took out my dry erase board and everyone gathered around. "Okay, we can not let them get this rebound. I want you and you under the basket hitting those boards hard. Brian, Rich. You two will line up at half-court. Sam, I want you to line up at mid-court and when the shot goes up to run toward the basket for a long pass. Everyone got it?" I got a few nods out of them, which was all I expected. "Okay, everyone in."

Marriage Advice

To be honest, I was quite surprised when I answered the phone. I generally don't answer numbers I don't recognize, but I decided at that moment to change that. This decision brought me perhaps one of the most surreal moments of my life. On the other line was a voice I had never expected to hear again. He called me to tell me he was asked to write a column on the ideal divorce. Since he was about to be married, he thought this was a strange request, and wanted some information on me. His previous marriage had not worked out well, despite parenting several children. He was cordial, as always, and we caught up on our lives quickly. There really wasn't much for me to say, since I've just been working every day. He said that my "divorce" was probably the closest to ideal that he knew of, since we didn't fight anymore. This was a true fact, largely because his daughter and I were no longer on speaking terms. It was hard for me to explain to him that this wasn't actually ideal to me. Rather, it just seemed like the necessary logical step for the two of us to proceed in life.

Wedding Preparation

It was the morning of my father's wedding. And, when I say morning, I mean very early morning. I had to wake up early to take care of a few arrangements in town, but it was still dark and the fog was very thick. I got into my father's pick-up truck and started driving, having to stop several times to see where I was going, and to make sure I didn't hit any parked cars. At one point, I stopped with a car in front of me. I got out to see where else I could go, but it turned out that I was just facing a house and my headlights were bouncing back at me.

As I reached the bottom of the hill, the density of the fog increased rapidly. It became so thick, that I could barely see a few feet in front of my car. That's when things went horribly wrong. Driving along, I thought I was on the road, turns out I was on someone's driveway. I rammed through a garage door, and proceed to crash through the wall into a living room, and then through a large living room window. Miraculously and disastrously, I managed to drive right through the first floor of someone's house.

Out in the woods behind the house, I decided to keep driving, hoping there was no way they could connect me to the crime at all. I really don't know what came over me, but I knew that no good would come of this for me. And, I drove through the woods, by a small stream that ran behind the town. Eventually, I could see the back of buildings through the trees, so I decided to head into town. Of course, my paranoia was off the charts, and I worried each second that I'd be arrested.

I parked the truck in an out of way place, hoping that no one would see it. I went into a few shops that I had to go into for my father's wedding. The last shop I went into was an old-fashioned toy shop. By this point, I was starting to worry about heading back to my truck. The next thing I did I cannot tell you why I did it. It surprised even me, since it'd been so long since we'd last spoken, for better or for worse. I called her. She was slightly surprised to hear from me, but as always she played it cool. And we just talked about how everything was going. It was good to know that things were going very well for her. She was still with her girlfriend, nearly a year now. And, it was good talking to her, even if briefly.

After we hung up, I remained in the toy store briefly before heading out to find my fate.

The Fencers

It began with an argument, the details of which seem lost in the terrible anger it caused the two men. The mansion was lit throughout with candles, casting an eerie glow upon everything. One man picked up the blade in order to defend the honor of another. The other man drew his sword with a sense of pride. The rules were simple, draw blood three times and you were deemed the winner. The rapiers were untipped, and the light dazzled upon the sharp points. The fight that ensued pushed the men around the great mansion's corridors. The quick slashes hissed in the air, and the blood drawn sprayed the walls in thin droplets. Tables were broken and lamps were extinguished. Finally, the men ended in the kitchen. The proud man lay on the floor with the tip of a rapier directly above his chest where his heart beat rapidly. "Do you yield?" questioned the honorable man. "I do." And, with that, the weapon released by the proud man gave a tinny cry as it slide across the floor.

Husband and Wife

I was confronted in the late afternoon by the three artists. I knew instantly who they were, and of what they were capable. I just never believed that it would happen to me, to whom nothing extraordinary ever occurred. I lived a simple life on the coast with my husband, who made a living in fishing. The purple seas rose and fell behind the women. They knew I was powerless to stop them. Isn't it folly to defy the gods? I pleaded with them to return my husband to me. Their response was just the cold laughter. They asked me to look where I was standing and take him back myself. Indeed, I just then noticed I was standing within the center of a pentagram. I knelt down immediately and prayed to the goddess, Athena. "Oh, goddess of shrewdness and wisdom, grant me the power to exact revenge upon those who have stolen my livelihood, and condemned me to death!" The goddess was kind to me, as she had always been to me and my family. I watched in horror as the muses behind me lost their godhead to become mortal. Upon this recognition, I seized upon this opportunity and struck one of these former dieties. However, my arms were not strong enough to defeat them. I cursed my ineptitude and frailty. Instead of a physical defeat I opted on a different approach. "If you will not return my husband, I will claim one of you as my own." Of them, I picked the most attractive and claimed her as my own.

Surface Chemistry

My mentor asked me to sit in on his surface chemistry class, again. I had taken it a few years prior, so while it wasn't anything new and refreshing, I figured it couldn't hurt to hear it all again. Maybe, it would set in more firmly in my head. I saw the students casually stroll in. As I looked across the classroom, I saw her sitting in the middle talking to a friend. It was a strange class for her to be taking, since she had no experience in chemistry, as far as I knew. I couldn't recall the last time we spoke, so I sat to the right and in front. I was sure she noticed me coming in, but still she kept on talking to her friend. I wondered to myself if she would ask me to help her with the course material, since having been through it, I knew that it was pretty intense. My mentor came in and set his books down.

Ferris, like the wheel

About a year ago, a man dressed as a police officer approached me and asked me if I knew what I had done wrong. I was sitting in the passenger side of my father's truck. I did not know what was wrong. He told me to step out of the vehicle, which I blindly obeyed. My memory becomes unclear at this point. The afternoon sun was in my eyes. I woke up in this cell, where I have been for quite some time. I'm really not sure exactly how long, since I cannot see the sky.

My name is Ferris, like the wheel not the iron. I have been in this facility along with several others while they perform tests on us. I believe they are attempting to enhance the physical attributes each of us has. There is a man here among us who is so big, I am sure he could lift a car on his own. Everyday, they give us these shots. I do not know what they are, but I can feel my mind become clearer. I can think faster. Whatever they are doing to me, it must be affecting the way my brain works.

The sanitary white of this building sometimes hurts my eyes though. The lack of stimulation gives me headaches. It's enough to make me scream myself to sleep. I was awoken early in the morning, with a knock on my door. There were men in black suits gathering all of their subjects together. They called me out of my cell and into the hall. The tiles of the checkered floor created multiple patterns for my mind to read. They were unsettling to me as they checkered off into an infinite distance. I was the last one forced into the stairwell as the men led us upward. Up they led us and down a hall toward a room full of windows. I passed by a room with a safe. I overheard one of the staff mention something about records in the glass safe. I was lead into the final room. The half open windows allowed a cool autumn breeze to blow through the screens. I could see the tops of trees in the distance. As I turned from the windows, the two men in the black suits pointed their guns at me. I slumped against the wall after the four gunshots pierced my chest. I could not understand why the blood was pumping itself out of me. It shouldn't be doing that. The world blurred, and faded to nothing.

I was awoken early in the morning, with a knock on the door. What was going on? Two men dressed in black suits had come to get me. Was I dead? No, I wasn't dead. I was called out into the cell and into the hall. I had lived this already, though. A dream! It had been a dream. No. Not a dream. A premonition. I was going to die. I had seen myself dying. Was this part of the tests they had been performing on me? I mentally reminded myself not to look at the checkered floor. In the stairwell, I realized I was going to die, just like in the dream. No, I was smarter now. They made me smarter somehow. If I was so smart, then I could figure out how to escape this place, and my death. As, we reached the top of the stairs, I was reminded of the room with the 'glass safe'. As we passed by that room, I quickly darted in, locking the door behind me.

The people inside of it were petrified to see me. The loud banging and the yelling on the door, probably didn't help settle there nerves either. One of them began to cry. I assured them that I had no intention of hurting them. I just wanted the records in the glass safe. The secret records on what they were doing to us. There was some slight confusion, most likely since they couldn't figure out how I knew about the records. The records in the safe, I screamed. Give them to me! One of the doctors in the room moved toward the safe, and started to open it. She handed me a book. I quickly flipped it open to see a list of values. These must be the financial records, I thought. I slipped the book into the waste band of my white scrubs. Just then, the guards busted in, with guns drawn. Come with us, they said, and don't make this difficult. The doctor next to me offered to give me a sedative, when I was held by the two guards, but I waved her off. I might not be alive long enough for the effects to kick in, I said.

I was dragged into the glass room. It was playing out just like in my dream. I had to do something, and fast. I moved toward the window quickly, and started to climb through. Don't, the guards shouted, but they were too late, I had dove through the window. I instantly noticed I was three stories up, so I reached out for the ledge I just jumped through. The pain in my arm as I gripped the ledge and was pulled back toward the side of the building was excruciating. I bounced against the building as I fell, trying to grab onto any ledge or crevice that jutted out. I hit the ground with a hard thud, my hands bleeding and my body bruised, but I was mostly in good shape. I was tired, but I started to run.

Where would I go, I thought? But, before I could even finish that train of thought, I knew where I was going. I was going to see her. Jenny was my oldest, dearest friend. Of all the people I knew, she would help me. Luckily, her school was not that far away. And so, I ran as fast as I could. I was so tired, but I knew that if I ever stopped, they would catch me.

I reached the university, and began running down the street with the pointed gate. TO my astonishment and extreme luck, she was walking down that same path. With her was a boy, but I had little time for jealousy or second thoughts. I ran toward her, yelling. She seemed so startled to see me.

Jenny, it's me. Ferris! She looked so confused. "Ferris? Is that you? I thought you were... My mother told me you died." No, I was just taken away. They are coming after me right now, and I have to escape. Can you meet me later? Meet me at this number, and I scratched a phone number into a pad she had. I didn't want them to see the ink and find me. I knew Jenny would help me. As I hugged her goodbye, I dropped the record book into her bag. Now, even if they did catch me, Jenny would still be able to set things right.

As I was running away from them, I noticed a man following me. He had a camera. I started to run away from him, and as I did he started to chase after me. Across the campus green and between some buildings, more started to come for me. A woman dressed like a guard tried to stop me. I struggled to free myself from her grasp, and in doing so, pushed her down a set of stairs. Free, I escaped into a building. There were classes in progress, and I dove into one of them, and closed the door behind me. Everyone, be quiet. There are men trying to catch me. Once again, the startled and confused looks were all I saw in their faces. How hard is it to understand? Suddenly, my pursuers broke into the room. Seeing that there were witnesses, they decided to pretend they were filming some sort of art film. I pleaded with the professor to understand that they were after me. Picking up a desk, I hurled it at them, and made my way through the door.

Outside again, I ran into the same guard. She looked scrapped and bruised. I pushed her over again and kept running. I can't ever stop running.