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Blogs > wickedeasy > wicked and that ain't so easy |
your prison is walking through this world all alone.
your prison is walking through this world all alone. He walked into the town, into the diner, ordered the special, a regular coffee, letting his feet dangle, giving them a rest. He ate, but not quickly, watching the people as they looked him over, weighing the odds. On his second cup, the Man slid onto the stool beside him. Coffee appeared like magic. Minutes later so did pancakes. The chatter had gone down a peg or two. He reckoned this man for the sheriff or someone of import. As the waitress topped off his cup, he nodded politely. The last bit of pancake disappeared as the Man turned his head. “New to town?’ “You?” “Nope. Seen you walk in from the desert. Car trouble” “No” “What can I do you for?” “Not a thing.” “Try the pancakes next time.” The men nodded, neither sure that the conversation had been useful but both sure it wasn’t going any further. The Man left. Voices rose back up, nothing to see here… In the library he spent a few hours on the microfiche machine, the librarian was flustered but he showed her how it worked and she thanked him kindly, leaving him alone since this was summer, and the without camp were swarming like bees. He noted her kindness and attention, as he sat back soothed by the cool air, the smell of books, finding what he needed. His eyes were ready to close when lilies of the valley snapped him awake, like a dog, he followed the scent. She was sitting on the steps outside, her long silver braid catching sun, glinting. Her skin was a deep coffee with a touch of cream, her eyes so dark, although one had something gold floating in it. Burrowing in a bag made of a million colors from which she pulled, of all things an apple so red, so shiny it stole his breath away. He felt that if he didn’t have a bite of that apple, he would never know what good tasted like. “I could peel it for you” sitting down next to her. “Not a chance. You have to bite an apple through the skin to really taste it. Feel your teeth sink in. Hear the sound, get juice spit on your nose.” He laughed out loud, the sound surprising him, how long had it been since he’d heard his own laughter? She took a generous bite as he watched mesmerized. It was like watching happy. He laughed again as she handed it to him. He bit deep. The apple was gone right quick. The doors of the library opened, flushed out, doors locked, still they sat. The moon rose up, he offered his hand, she took it. As they walked, a song drifted through his mind… Desperado Why don't you come to your senses Been out ridin' fences, for so long now Oh, you're a hard one But I know that you've got your reasons These things that are pleasin' you Can hurt you somehow Don't you draw the queen of diamonds boy She'll beat you if she's able You know the queen of hearts is always your best bet But it seems to me some fine things have been laid upon your table But you only want the ones you can't get Desperado Oh, you ain't gettin' no younger Your pain and your hunger, they're drivin' you home And freedom, oh freedom, well that's just some people talkin' Your prison is walkin' through this world all alone Don't your feet get cold in the wintertime The sky won't snow and the sun won't shine It's hard to tell the nighttime from the day And you're losin' all your highs and lows Ain't it funny how the feelin' goes away He held the door to the diner for her. They settled in a booth. The Man was on a stool, nodded to him. He excused imself, standing over the toilet, he flushed the notes he’d made, washed up, pulled his fingers through his hair. Walking back across the room, her smile pulling him, he wondered if the Man knew somewhere he could lay his head tonight. He stopped to ask. “ You cannot conceive the many without the one. |
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my favorite rendition of desperado is one by Linda Ronstadt. it tears me up You cannot conceive the many without the one.
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I'm going with one of your details here, microfiche. Before the internet, microfiche was the way to find out about things, especially newspaper coverage of events! I guess microfiche is dead now, which is a shame. I know it's much easier using the Internet but it's too easy; some people, obviously not us, think that our brains now include the Internet!
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Visit my Blog Older but no Wiser and find out more
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Some escape it and leave a large part of themselves behind based solely on the fear of returning. Those that can't escape should at least have respect for the Matrons that keep them there.. Using more than all the road!
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Lots of good songs out there to identify with and the Eagles definitely made a few of them. Vive La Difference
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If only things like that happened in real life. I'm still waiting for my apple lady. Desperado... I used to know that song on guitar. . I'll have to look that up again. . I've forgotten almost everything. Nicely done!
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Agreed wicked. An excellent choice of songs as well.. One is never alone you have us never forget this.. hugssssssss V Become a blog watcher sweet_vm
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We are not alone.......apparently...........but what a terrible feeling lonliness.........
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" It was like watching happy" just perfectly paints the atmosphere!! And out of the tips of her fingers WE tells us another life truism!! (Virtual Symposium Group) use Virtual Symposium Group
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