The basement smelled like damp carpet and stale beer.
Peeling paint curled from the walls like forgotten letters.
I sat at the desk with pen and paper.
A bottle of absinthe, sweating in the dim light.
Van Gogh stared back at me from the label, his eyes wild,
full of madness.
Madness I understood all too well.
Jagged, vivid swirls of chaos.
Poor fucking Vincent.
Jenny came over that night,
scandalous and dangerous,
disturbing my solitude, my sanctuary.
She’s a street woman with eyes like broken streetlights
and a soul like a feral cat.
All I wanted was to write.
All she wanted was more meth.
The bottle of absinthe shimmered between us,
green liquid sloshing like broken thunder.
She said, hey, if you get me a motel, I’ll give you head.
We walked to the cheap rat hole on Federal Avenue.
Neon halos bleeding into rain slick asphalt.
The room was like a coffin, fluorescent lights buzzing.
I carried my pen and paper like a shield.
All I wanted was to craft the word, the line,
my way through this silly, twisted world.
All she wanted was escape from the streets.
Her laughter sliced through the quiet,
like shattered glass.
I woke up hours later,
phone gone, wallet missing,
room spinning like a carnival freak,
head pounding like a bass drum,
the bottle of absinthe with just a spider of liquid left,
its green ghost fading into the ghastly light.
The world outside didn’t give a fuck,
just another morning in the blitzkrieg I called life.
Brilliantly penned, Thomas. Excellent write my friend. The seductive spider that calls you back again, to seek more of the elixir that feels like home, only to start the cycle over again. Your an incredible storyteller brother who knows how to paint a picture. Appreciate you.
Damian
Thank you. Much appreciated.
Superb contrast between the innocent vulnerable hapless victim and the absinthe and the thieving whore. God, you’re on fire, Thomas.
Thank you so much.
Like Jenny from Forest Gump; perhaps she can be reformed. LOL.
Your prose is spot on. The descriptive elements set a shadowy stage, highlights are found in the wording.
Great atmospheric build.
Thank you. Much appreciated.
Your writing is remarkable. The details and atmosphere are always spot on. Nice work!
Thanks. I appreciate it.
Hahaha, it happens, but it’s not just street girls that rob those pockets. Do you know the greater manipulators and thieves some times sleep in our beds. The descriptions within your pieces are as always tight
Thank you. Much appreciated.
All you wanted was to write. The repetition of that statement lends itself to the idea of an escape hatch from something. And Jenny wanting a room, also an escape hatch. And that damn bottle of absinthe turned it all inside out. Loved the spider reference. Come into my web…