Cygnus and Christopher

Untitled Part 12

It might have been early in the morning when I first woke up. The smell of alcohol lived in the room like dew drops on grass before the sun fully rises. Sweat stuck on my stomach where Alex's arm draped over me.

Several others slept on Rick's floor. Bodies all positioned differently. I pretended they were landmines as I tiptoed over them to the bathroom, my balance still a bit off. Legs like bags of sand barely held together. Half way down the hall I stopped and leaned on the wall, thankful to the wood for supporting me.

Downstairs the coffee machine hissed and sent its alluring scent throughout the house. I wondered if it was set on a timer or if someone else walked with me in the land of living. So, after going to the bathroom and drinking several gulps from the faucet I headed to the kitchen.

A few guests sat slouched at the table, steaming mugs in front of them. Christopher moved about cheerfully, grabbing soymilk, flour, and other things from around the kitchen. "Good morning my man. Plenty of coffee left if you want some." I declined with a, "no thanks", and joined the others at the table.

Some people pieced together their nights and others quietly endured their discomfort. Nicole looking like the leader of the quietly enduring bunch; head down on the table, baggy shirt and pajamas on.

I imagined a camera zooming out the window and credits rolling over the room, then the house, then the yard. An ending not so much about a conclusion of events, but more about the sense that this will all be over soon despite any lingering feeling of unfinishedness. A clarity that comes when it is too late to do something about anything.

Alex joined us about the same time Christopher finished the second batch of waffles. Some people ate one after another and others only took a bite every couple minutes.

Many mornings manifested, this one included, as an inappropriate epilogue to me. The peaks of the night before burning up so fast or slipping out to a sea of lost memories. We were tired scientist reading over test results and all our findings turning out inconclusive. But this inconclusiveness often only drove me to experiment again. I did not even retry creatively. Just tried the same methods with more force. I stayed stationary, somehow believing that repetition could change the rules of the world.

So, hungover at breakfast and face to face with the weight of repeatedly ununderstood experiments, I wished a day that felt complete. A day where the hours sewed themselves together into a picturesque piece of fabric. One seamless creation placed on the back off a boy about to go home.

A bare foot grazed mine beneath the table. Passable as an accident at first, but after multiple occurrences I suspected intention behind the action. I glanced to Alex. I met a smile and nod towards the door. We went that way.

Alex took a waffle with and began to eat it with no syrup. No questions were asked between bites, instead Alex said "Looked nice outside, and I just wanted to check it out. Here, have a bite." The waffle tasted good, like usual. "Thanks."

Behind us the door opened. Out ran Susan with Tomas on her back. They slipped past us and ran about the yard until Susan got a bit short of breath. Slowly Susan lowered to her knee. Tomas lightly got off and onto his own feet. A smooth dismount. The proper way to transition from exhausting excitement to baseline.

Susan looked and saw me on the porch. Between shallow breaths she spoke. "Wondered who we ran past." Despite her wondering, she did not walk over. Instead she laid down in the yard and either continued to ponder who she ran past or through any number of other things I assume. While she did whatever she did, laughter leaked from her like morning mist rising off a lake. Soundwaves as waterdrops fell in reverse before they evaporated in the early sun.

Tomas laid beside Susan and motioned for Alex and me to come to the grass. His hand waved back and forth a few times, eclipsed a smiling face in the middle of its orbit. This wave became perhaps the second most inviting gesture I'd ever witnessed. The most inviting gesture happened so long ago, and in an atypically long and continual dream. A pleasant dream so surreal that nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

Alex rose up and raced towards Susan and Tomas. Maybe more sprung than rose, a dolphin clearing the last drops of water on top the ocean. A dolphin about to reunite with a long lost pod.

I prayed for the position of the planets to pivot just enough to slow time to a stand still. My lack of understanding with regards to both physics did little to impair my infatuation with the moment. But moments are just little kisses on the shoulder and not tattoos. So regardless of my opinion I passed through them. Though sometimes when the day felt kind and the weather settled just right, the cool damp residue of life's affection persisted a little longer.

Caught between harmony with the ephemeral nature of things and a pathetic partial denial of the passing of pleasant things., I joined the pile on the lawn.

Sleep also joined the pile after a somewhat lengthy chat about a movie I had not got around to seeing. A dream heavy sleep dense with paralysis and false awakenings. As if the dreams were angry their homeland had been sacrificed the previous night. And for retribution they did all they could to keep you until debts were collected. The worst of the false awakenings involved me crawling, heading to towards the porch. Progress came slowly if at all. My tshirt tearing on grass rough as sandpaper. Vocals cords pushed to capacity, calling for help when my muscles shut down. Immobile despite exhausting effort to move.

I only briefly realize the reasons I couldn't move. Reason had no authority there though, so I continued to resist whatever force attempted to collapse me to singularity. Eventually my effort paid off. Both arms moved in synch with conscious wish. They pushed me up to seated position. No one was left in the pile. Alex, Christopher, and Nicole sat on the porch.

Christopher acknowledge my awakening. "Now that the whole gang is back together I say we hit the road."