Photograph

August 8th, 2008

August 8th, 2008 [payday]

"Welcome back." The sound of her cool voice caused him to pause in the entranceway. One shoe had been completely removed while the other remained, but was left untied.

It was dark in the small room. Only a small television set acted as a light source in the otherwise bleak room. Enough light was provided to reveal a worn out coffee table littered with empty bottles of Absolut and re-usable plastic cups. A faded red (now brown) couch sat parallel to the coffee table. Beside it was a plain side-table that was home to multiple ashtrays overflowing with cigarette butts.

He stared into the room, his eyes seeing but not seeing. The flickering of the small television became the main focus of his attention.

The news was on. A well-kept woman dressed in a suede suit noiselessly narrated what was happening behind her. As the flames licked the sky, the scrolling words on the bottom of the screen read;

'"...As you can see behind me, there has been a terrible

accident just outside of Cook, MN. The authorities are

still not certain if alcohol was a key player in this four-

car pile-up, but the chances are high. It was confir - '"

Abruptly, the television with the woman dressed in suede was replaced by a dark silhouette. She stood firmly, blocking his view of the television with her body. In response to her indirect command, he looked down at his feet. There was still one shoe partially on his foot. Upon realizing this, he bent down to remove it, all the while aware of the woman's waning patience.

When he finished, he stood with his gaze fixed on the floor. From the direction of the living room came a soft 'thud!' which was followed by another; then another. He listened as she made her way around the couch. It groaned slightly when she leaned against it. Now they were close enough for him to smell the days' worth of drinking on her. His stomach clenched and he found himself not wanting to breathe.

For one reason or another, he found that he didn't want to breathe in the same air hat his mother seemed to be occupying.

She took no notice of this and simply asked, "How was your day?"

Don't you mean 'How was your pay?' As he thought this, he pulled a white envelope with his name written on it from his back pocket. He glanced sideways at her, weaving his way through the wave of emotions that struck him. But just as fast as they had come, they flew away along with the envelope that he held in his hands. His eyes glazed over as he watched the expression of joyous greed lit her face. A dark beauty showed through those usually unfocused emerald eyes and some color returned to her normally pale cheeks.

The eyes of a loving mother; the face of a beautiful wife; the image from a recurring dream.

He left her then. Facing forward, he walked briskly to the back of the trailer where his bedroom was located. Already he could feel the wave of exhaustion that threatened to overtake him. Once inside, he locked his door and haphazardly made his way to his bedside table. His fingers caressed the top of its rugged surface in a show of gratitude before pulling open the drawer underneath. From there he removed an old photograph.

For a moment time was misplaced as he stared at the old worn-out photograph in his hand. He brought it first to his nose, almost able to smell the cleaning solution and dirt. He then brought it to his heart as he moved his dinosaur bed sheets off to the side. Before settling down, he placed the photograph under his pillow and climbed in. The moment his eyes closed, he began to dream.