Shadows

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Damn.

I dropped my last pencil off the edge.  13 stories of downward motion as the wooden mass reaches terminal velocity. I set down my notebook  next to my lower left ribs, on the railing and I get up from my bird position to stand up on the 6 inches of black painted aluminum-steel alloy.  My balcony has an amazing view of a McDonald's and a couple of adult novelty shops. I teeter over the edge and feel like one of those monumental architectural masterpieces. My bones turn to iron framework, my organs to offices, my blood to the constant buzz of computing,coffee filled, work force , I feel my skin turn to floor-ceiling glass and my circulatory system pumps cold cooling air to all the blue tie white shirt copy machine slaves. I close my eyes and imagine letting go. My body infused with potential energy.  The slow motion bliss of falling through the air and feeling weightless. The only problem is hitting the ground. Waking up from a good dream. I open my eyes and reality hits me in the face as I realize I'm standing on 6 inches of railing over 435 feet of nothingness. I pick up my book and sit back down on the rail, my legs hanging off of the edge and I continue writing. "Chapter three" .  “the black misty being had this effect on me. It filled my mind with everything horrible that had ever happened to me.  The feelings were so strong that I felt weak as I relived all my failed tests, all my ex girlfriends, my aunts and uncles and grandparents dying. all this combined emotion made me weak and incapacitated. The being of darkness became more crisp around the edges and became an outline of my body. It glided over to my helpless organic matter laying in a heap on the grass. the entity tilted its head as if it was empathetic.  it touched me with it darkly transparent hand and I suddenly felt nothing, not even nothing, I felt oblivion. I can't open my eyes and I dont know if I'm breathing. everything is black and I'm alone with my thoughts."   I go back through and revise and add details.  This would be my third book. I hear a sliding sound “slide, click, slide” and look behind me to see markus staring at me. He says " mom wants you to come in for lunch"

"Don't you mean Sara?"

"Ya sure whatever, are you coming or not?"

"Nope"

"It would be a shame if you fell."

He half smiled  at the thought of me reaching terminal velocity into the grass or bush or pavement. I add in a few periods and commas to chapter three.  I close the black leather notebook and run my Hand over the cover that reads "shadows" .  its quite clever really.  i was just browsing a local bookstore and found a odd little black book shrink wrapped in cellophane. it was on display with a variety of candy colored counterparts. it caught my eye for some reason.  it was different from the other flamboyantly colored wastes of paper in the fact that engraved in gold on the front cover was the word “shadows”.   I close the sliding glass door.  "slide,click,slide"

I glide through the living room and see Sara  perched on the couch owl style reading a book called " chakras to heal the soul".  she is a "level two reke healer" which basically means she will go into a room with a person and put her hands an inch above the inflicted area.  she will charge the person an outrageous price and they leave happy with their newly acquired plussibo.  Oh you know, the heart chakra, the brain chakra, blah, blah, blah. Sara looks up from her book and I see a cigarette stuck in between her chapped pale lips. She says something to me and gestures towards the dining room. I was lost thinking about analogies to describe her wretched personality. I was lost in the rotted dusty looking holes she calls  her eyes. I walk in the living room and see a plate on the table that might be considered food to a blind person. I leave it there and go to my room.  I plop onto a swivel chair and take a panoramic view of my room.  I lock my door.  I spin my chair one more time before I get to work. I solve each one of my 39 Rubik's like puzzles and write 7 more chapters in my book. The boredom chakra. I feed my turtle. I feed my fish.  I script three new computer programs.

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