Scrawlers

On a hot summer afternoon,
the stray dog finally collapsed,
Nobody noticed until it was late afternoon,
the street kids had gathered around the corpse and kicked it without much thought or provocation,
It was their play,
The erstwhile dog lay there, tossed about and dragged,
painfully absent, in flesh and blood.

When I travel, it seems that my soul travels slowly and stays behind for a while. If I travel for three hours, it will take until tomorrow. If I travel around the world, it will take at least three days.

This is not jet lag. I am not tired. I feel a disembodiment, a total lack of connection with where I am. I am certain I have left my soul behind.

I sit with friends in the evening and I stare into space

They say, "Are you thinking about a story?"

"No," I say, "I am waiting for my soul".

How could they have forgotten? The signs were all there. A full moon rose over the mountain and the canyon was in bloom. It was then they realized how much they needed her. They had always resisted Grandma's advice. She would have reminded them that the potatoes should be cut on this day.

Could they go on another day or were they simply too late? When they arrived at the canyon mouth, tardy and regretful, they knew why a full-moon was needed for the magic to work. Good luck potatoes could not be planted in the dark.

The car sat in the driveway, the engine idling quietly, a gentle snow falling softly on the windshield.

"You look like you want to say something," she said.

"I do."

"Then say it."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because I know what your answer will be, and I can't stand to hear you say it."

She looked at him for what seemed like an eternity as their breath hung in the air between them, then silently rose from her seat and left him alone in the car.

"I want you back," he whispered breathlessly as she slowly walked away.

I went there at night only once.

I needed an escape and my clearing in the woods promised some respite. I lay on my back with the black sky above me and found the night unexpectedly thick with silence. My mind raced to find something to fill the emptiness. When I was younger, I would imagine creatures or madmen in the darkness. Now I couldn't even summon those childish frights. Without the familiar stimuli of the daytime, I was lost in an overwhelming darkness.

I'm not sure I will ever find my way back.

Once again Louie turned around 3 times before laying down.

I can understand, I feel like I am turning in place but going nowhere. I need to move or do something physical but that won't fulfill the need. Soon the moon will be full, only 2 more days now.

I wonder what she is thinking about right now. Is she afraid? Does she know I will be coming for her? I don't want to hurt her, but I can't ignore the need. Soon, soon my need will be fulfilled and then the regrets will start again.

In the parking lot, I ask my sister if she's ever had the urge to kick the snow gobs from behind the tires of cars.

She says, "Yes."
I say, "On other peoples' cars?"
She says, "Just my own."
Then with her black high-heeled boots she kicks the gob off a beaten-up Volvo.

Later we tell Mom. We can't stop laughing.
Mom says, "I have that urge all the time."
I say, "With other peoples' cars?"
She says, "Yes! Harley finally made me promise I'd stop - then I begged him to let me take my promise back."

It's GENETIC.