The following is a piece of short, short fiction I wrote. The first line, "We know where we wanna go", was assigned as a prompt. It is from BUILT TO SPILL's song "Living Zoo".
We know where we wanna go. Laid out before us like a badly cared for yellow brick road, the path to our destination appeared to be an easy one.
Or was it?
The purpose of the journey does not matter, not anymore. The beginning mattered, but has since been clouded. As it stews together in my mind and boils down to the bare bones, the goal, the destination, and the purpose are all the same.
Life.
"Are you ready?"
Is that the voice of God? The voice belongs to that of a female. Women will gladly rejoice to know this fact. I am, in fact, indifferent to it all. The crispness of snapping fingers focuses my distracted attention. "I'm ready. Let's go."
Tanya, wearing a brand new pair of blue jeans and a skimpy top the color of meat fat, stands in the middle of the expansive room, eyes glued to her cell phone. The detour to this place, a mansion hidden in the hills and guarded by a rusted gate, gave a chance for Tanya to change into nicer clothes for the party and provided me the opportunity to explore. And what I found, tucked away on the bowed shelves of a basement bar, was a collection not of half-filled liquor bottles but jars filled with pills. It was a cornucopia of illegal and legal substances. The jars were not labeled, providing me little indication as to the origin of their current state. A veritable rainbow of colors washed before my eyes. Looking left and looking right, I quickly removed the lid of one of the jars. One purple pill later, the euphoria washed over me like tepid water on a scorching day.
"Jesus, Tom, what are you on?" The soothing voice of Tanya momentarily brought me back to reality.
"Huh?" was the only response I could muster.
"I've been talking to you you for the past five minutes. Can you drive?"
Drool pooled at the corners of my mouth. Our destination was still ahead of us. I may or may not have nodded.
"You know I'm not supposed to have guests over. He'll kill me."
Frantic, Tanya yanked me up off of the couch. Three years in Los Angeles and the closest I get to fame is stealing a washed up musician's drugs. The party we were headed to was going to be full of producers, money men, and more than a handful of clingers-on. The only way I was getting in because I was bringing a woman with me. Three more girls, barely twenty years of age, were already waiting on us. It was about ratio and that's how these men worked.
Did I only take one pill?
Tanya practically dragged me out of the dilapidated mansion. My car was parked within the gates. I got behind the wheel, started up the ignition and a grind of the gears told me we were on the move. The rest of the trip might have been a dream. Dreams might be shattered in where we wanna go, but at least Tanya and I will have each other. And she'll always have her jar of pills.
We know where we wanna go. Laid out before us like a badly cared for yellow brick road, the path to our destination appeared to be an easy one.
Or was it?
The purpose of the journey does not matter, not anymore. The beginning mattered, but has since been clouded. As it stews together in my mind and boils down to the bare bones, the goal, the destination, and the purpose are all the same.
Life.
"Are you ready?"
Is that the voice of God? The voice belongs to that of a female. Women will gladly rejoice to know this fact. I am, in fact, indifferent to it all. The crispness of snapping fingers focuses my distracted attention. "I'm ready. Let's go."
Tanya, wearing a brand new pair of blue jeans and a skimpy top the color of meat fat, stands in the middle of the expansive room, eyes glued to her cell phone. The detour to this place, a mansion hidden in the hills and guarded by a rusted gate, gave a chance for Tanya to change into nicer clothes for the party and provided me the opportunity to explore. And what I found, tucked away on the bowed shelves of a basement bar, was a collection not of half-filled liquor bottles but jars filled with pills. It was a cornucopia of illegal and legal substances. The jars were not labeled, providing me little indication as to the origin of their current state. A veritable rainbow of colors washed before my eyes. Looking left and looking right, I quickly removed the lid of one of the jars. One purple pill later, the euphoria washed over me like tepid water on a scorching day.
"Jesus, Tom, what are you on?" The soothing voice of Tanya momentarily brought me back to reality.
"Huh?" was the only response I could muster.
"I've been talking to you you for the past five minutes. Can you drive?"
Drool pooled at the corners of my mouth. Our destination was still ahead of us. I may or may not have nodded.
"You know I'm not supposed to have guests over. He'll kill me."
Frantic, Tanya yanked me up off of the couch. Three years in Los Angeles and the closest I get to fame is stealing a washed up musician's drugs. The party we were headed to was going to be full of producers, money men, and more than a handful of clingers-on. The only way I was getting in because I was bringing a woman with me. Three more girls, barely twenty years of age, were already waiting on us. It was about ratio and that's how these men worked.
Did I only take one pill?
Tanya practically dragged me out of the dilapidated mansion. My car was parked within the gates. I got behind the wheel, started up the ignition and a grind of the gears told me we were on the move. The rest of the trip might have been a dream. Dreams might be shattered in where we wanna go, but at least Tanya and I will have each other. And she'll always have her jar of pills.
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