06-18-2013, 08:34 AM
An ounce of gold in the hand feels like a slice of bread
given to a starving man.
If that would explain it well enough.
But, A bag of gold is better than the height of an orgasm.
Its been three days since the shot. He asked for whiskey and
whiskey is what he got.
I can still recall the ramblings
"she didnt have a name man! She just said she was done with it all. Wouldnt let me help her from doing what she did to herself."
Raging in madness he seemed as he cried a bit. The shot went back and he would cough "another" he said till he was drunk and could not ramble anymore.
The last thing he said was "take this bag and do what the letter says" He shifted it and slid it to me across the bar counter and then he blew his head off.
Its been three days since the shot. I didn't know the man from a hole in the ground. It happened so fast, the bag, the suicide. I remember the look on his face before he pulled out the .38 super and shot Himself.
The look was of bewilderment. His eyes grew wide, wide as a doe when first seeing the oncoming headlights.
I did grab the bag he gave me, it was heavy and I exited quickly. It felt like a few bricks tossed into a sack. Leaving the area was best for me as I am wanted for questioning in a murder. They would question me and arrest me if they sought for reference.
The day was darkened by the storm clouds above. It wasn't past five. the streets still heavy and thick with traffic. Bicycles pedaling away and
horns blaring over other honks. The walkers in full effect maybe sixty or so in all directions, going somewhere.
Where was I going? at the time I didn't know and I had no purpose to change my mind until I looked in the bag. It was in the subway terminal when I finally looked in the bag and noticed the bricks of gold.
They were shiny and glowed with a brilliance similar to seeing a quarter
on the pavement when the sun was shining down upon it.
Reflective.
There was a note as mentioned. It was in a long envelope that said on the front " R E A D M E " Inside the letter there was a long detailed story about a woman and how she acquired the bag. There were directions that read "If you got me, go to Fifth and Simon Street where the payphone is and dial 402 952 9544." I could not believe that some one
would leave directions with a bag of gold. As if someone who obtained the bag would actually follow them. My stop had come and I exited cautiously with the bag. Wondering if anyone seen me leaving with it.
I am rich! If I just lay low and have this converted I will be rich for awhile. Once I reached my apartment I quickly entered and placed the sack on the table. I was going to call a friend but decided not too.
Then there was a knock on the door and that is all I remember.
The room I woke up in was a small room with a bear claw tub in it.
I was in the tub, handcuffed. There was a t.v. on in another room.
All in the family was on and Archie Bunker bellowed out " Edith! where
is my hat?" eyes opened and with nausea I tried to focus them that is
when I realized I was handcuffed and in a tub. My feet were tied together and tied to the claws of the tub to ground me.
" You didnt know how you ended up in the room?"
No. I remember hearing a knock at the door.
work in progress, know it isn't poetry as much as a story but should I continue it?
given to a starving man.
If that would explain it well enough.
But, A bag of gold is better than the height of an orgasm.
Its been three days since the shot. He asked for whiskey and
whiskey is what he got.
I can still recall the ramblings
"she didnt have a name man! She just said she was done with it all. Wouldnt let me help her from doing what she did to herself."
Raging in madness he seemed as he cried a bit. The shot went back and he would cough "another" he said till he was drunk and could not ramble anymore.
The last thing he said was "take this bag and do what the letter says" He shifted it and slid it to me across the bar counter and then he blew his head off.
Its been three days since the shot. I didn't know the man from a hole in the ground. It happened so fast, the bag, the suicide. I remember the look on his face before he pulled out the .38 super and shot Himself.
The look was of bewilderment. His eyes grew wide, wide as a doe when first seeing the oncoming headlights.
I did grab the bag he gave me, it was heavy and I exited quickly. It felt like a few bricks tossed into a sack. Leaving the area was best for me as I am wanted for questioning in a murder. They would question me and arrest me if they sought for reference.
The day was darkened by the storm clouds above. It wasn't past five. the streets still heavy and thick with traffic. Bicycles pedaling away and
horns blaring over other honks. The walkers in full effect maybe sixty or so in all directions, going somewhere.
Where was I going? at the time I didn't know and I had no purpose to change my mind until I looked in the bag. It was in the subway terminal when I finally looked in the bag and noticed the bricks of gold.
They were shiny and glowed with a brilliance similar to seeing a quarter
on the pavement when the sun was shining down upon it.
Reflective.
There was a note as mentioned. It was in a long envelope that said on the front " R E A D M E " Inside the letter there was a long detailed story about a woman and how she acquired the bag. There were directions that read "If you got me, go to Fifth and Simon Street where the payphone is and dial 402 952 9544." I could not believe that some one
would leave directions with a bag of gold. As if someone who obtained the bag would actually follow them. My stop had come and I exited cautiously with the bag. Wondering if anyone seen me leaving with it.
I am rich! If I just lay low and have this converted I will be rich for awhile. Once I reached my apartment I quickly entered and placed the sack on the table. I was going to call a friend but decided not too.
Then there was a knock on the door and that is all I remember.
The room I woke up in was a small room with a bear claw tub in it.
I was in the tub, handcuffed. There was a t.v. on in another room.
All in the family was on and Archie Bunker bellowed out " Edith! where
is my hat?" eyes opened and with nausea I tried to focus them that is
when I realized I was handcuffed and in a tub. My feet were tied together and tied to the claws of the tub to ground me.
" You didnt know how you ended up in the room?"
No. I remember hearing a knock at the door.
work in progress, know it isn't poetry as much as a story but should I continue it?