ENTRY # 35 Another sleepless night. Seems thats all he has nowadays. Forget the air conditioning, in hopes the sound of the surf could bring rest, he left the window open to the sea. What he heard instead was the bar closing crowd of Harleys at 2:00. By 3:00 there was just the sea, and the hum of the air conditioner fighting to regain control of the room.
Old people move to Florida when they retire. Thats what people of his generation did. Seemed like a good idea at the time. He envisioned warm water, beaches and a place where time slowed. After a lifetime of whatever it was he had set out to do thats what he did. What had he set out to do? So hard remember in the early morning, when all he wanted was dreamless sleep.
For lack of anything better, Niel swings his legs over the side of the bed and heads for the icebox, across a clutter-free expanse of light carpet. Nothing. Nothing there, but he grabs a styrofoam container of yesterdays leftovers for something to do. Cracks open a book that he’s been trying to wrap his head around and settles in the livingroom chair. A woman’s laugh and giggle. An abrupt change of tone. “Don’t.”
He hears her often now. So many years ago, and a lifetime between, and she’s more real now than she was then.
comments
Elouise, ero@it.rit.edu, 24.24.41.238, 1057415273, 2004-05-16 20:41:17, Rosarios Garden was a short story, then a script for my thesis many years ago. It got usurped by pregnancy, and I ended up making that the subject of my animation instead. (“Evolution in the First Person”) I always liked the story- and am fleshing it out.