Something to dream about...
The rain had subsided into a drizzle. You could still hear the drops on the window, if you listened close enough. The weather was pleasant enough for me to be pensive. I took a quick glance at the photograph on my desk, before stepping out to face a world coloured with gloom.
Much of the city had changed. The lights, sidewalks and stalls greeted me without knowing my name. Still, the road in my heart took me in the right direction. Cabs raced past me, rushing their passengers before their shift came to an end. There were girls from the bars, carrying a hybrid scent of roses and fags, winking and pouting as the lonely stranger ambled into their sight.
'Heaven is a girl I know so well. She makes me good when I feel like hell'
Def Leppard's chorus was heard from the record store. It echoed in my head like a lullaby. Yes, I could still remember her voice. Every word sung, like drops of honey, sweet enough to bring the dead back to life. I stopped my thoughts right on their tracks as I opened the glass door of the eatery. Endless questions bred endless heartache, as all explanations of her were futile.
The warmth brought comfort from the harsh cold outside. It was a vegeterian restaurant, owned by five orphans I knew since childhood. Refusing to conform to the rapid changes of the rat race, they preserved the decor of the place for the past 50 years. It was the only place in the entire city that still held onto my memories.
"So its the same thing, I presume?"
Anthony the waiter was close to 200 years old. His silver hair was gelled and combed to the back, making his forehead look bigger. His face, well it was fair and ageless as the first day I saw him. If you ventured to ask why, he would say the vegetables here were the elixirs of life. If you were sane and logical, you would conclude it was botox.
"Yes. More chillis please."
There was a small stage right at the end. During the age of free fairies, the restaurant invited musicians, comedians and dancers from heaven and hell to entertain all its patrons. It was a lively atmosphere, and all animosity was cast aside to embrace the sheer, pure joy of laughter. However after the advent of technology, travellers dreaded leaving their realms for the plesantries of the planet. In other words, the more we knew, the more they faded away.
That night, it was only Dion. In the distant past she went by the name of Dionysus, and she was a man. He loved the parties and hedonistic debauchery, with long nights of orgies and wild abandon. Sadly, he gave his heart to a man who was as beautiful as he was. He thought that becoming a woman would win the man's total devotion, but that was not to be.
On the stage, all alone, Dion serenaded to Jewel's 'Hands'. To me, she looked more beautiful than he had ever been. Her emerald eyes glowed under the dim spotlight. Like pain, immortality was a gift that no god ever wants. If I strained my eyes, I might have caught the tears trickling down her pale, freckled cheeks.
As always, the meal was tasty and refreshing. There wasn't a place in the neighbouring towns that served such exquisite cuisine. While I wiped my mouth with the red napkin, a man with a long goatee and spiked brown hair took the chair in front of me. This was Pan, the owner of the restaurant. Unlike other days, he was wearing a pair of navy blue Levi's jeans. Perhaps, he had been travelling too much that the trends of urban living had finally caught up with him.
"Jeans?" I asked.
"Yes, yes. It has a good fit. Been raving in the tropics too often, so decided to wax the fur to keep cool," he explained.
"Ahh, I see. By the way, before Dion started singing, why did Anthony close the place? It's only half past seven."
"Hey buddy, you couldn't have forgotten aye?" he laughed. "Its Christmas!"
I was damned. All sense of time was lost, the day she drowned in the river. Whatever happened yesterday felt like ages ago. Forlorn and frustrated, I retreated into slumber, where the sand never flowed down the hourglass.
"I'm sorry Pannie, everything just stood still. She took time away with her."
"Aww..dude. It's been long enough. Nymphos are like that. They make you keep wanting 'em. Even when they're dead."
The truth hurt. It was me all along, refusing to admit how much of a hopeless shithead I was. That was her destiny, but we all felt it could be denied. The fortune-teller trembled at the revelation. She would receive no payment from us, for fear had gripped her heart.
Pan's lips parted to reveal a wide grin. It was 'the mask of evil', the villagers of old used to say. Little children shuddered as their parents narrated the eerie bedtime story. Indeed, as his slim fingers toyed with a bright amber seed, a sharp shiver crawled down my spine.
'Try this...the fruit of Peresphone's tears. Almost had to break Hades's arm to get it. Hellboy's getting fat these days, fights like a slug" he chuckled.
I took it into my mouth and bit into the shell. It was hard and hot. The spice scalding my tongue, it felt like I swallowed fire itself. The taste quickly turned to pain. It wasn't spicy anymore. Something had stung my tongue like a scorpion, and I drank my own blood. My fingers went in to snatch the little bane out of my mouth.
"WTF is this?!" I exclaimed, wiping the blood of my lips. She was a dark, yellow haired girl with butterfly wings, barely taller than my thumb. She was punching and screaming as I gripped on her two legs.
"Firefly fairies dude. Same DNA as Thumbelina. Thought you might need one. After all, you are trapped in some kid's body," Pan replied.
I placed her down on the table and her screams subsided. She wore a pink tee and tennis skirt. I could have mistaken her for Maria Sharapova, but it was pretty obvious she was chubbier. Quite a cute little wild thing, but her bite still hurt. She was complaining to Pan for conjuring such a scheme to sell her freedom, when I decided to interrupt.
"Hey little wild one, what's your name?"
"Pink champagne..and you're ugly," she scowled. She was sitting on the rim of my cocktail glass, cooling her feet on the floating ice.
"I'm Joe. Pan says you're mine now. I guess we should learn to work together, right?"
"Dream on you twit!" she stuck her tongue out with a crossed face.
She had no idea what my job was.
"That's what I do anyway. You better not regret it"
That night, that hour and that moment. You could hear Pan's laughter anywhere.
The rain had subsided into a drizzle. You could still hear the drops on the window, if you listened close enough. The weather was pleasant enough for me to be pensive. I took a quick glance at the photograph on my desk, before stepping out to face a world coloured with gloom.
Much of the city had changed. The lights, sidewalks and stalls greeted me without knowing my name. Still, the road in my heart took me in the right direction. Cabs raced past me, rushing their passengers before their shift came to an end. There were girls from the bars, carrying a hybrid scent of roses and fags, winking and pouting as the lonely stranger ambled into their sight.
'Heaven is a girl I know so well. She makes me good when I feel like hell'
Def Leppard's chorus was heard from the record store. It echoed in my head like a lullaby. Yes, I could still remember her voice. Every word sung, like drops of honey, sweet enough to bring the dead back to life. I stopped my thoughts right on their tracks as I opened the glass door of the eatery. Endless questions bred endless heartache, as all explanations of her were futile.
The warmth brought comfort from the harsh cold outside. It was a vegeterian restaurant, owned by five orphans I knew since childhood. Refusing to conform to the rapid changes of the rat race, they preserved the decor of the place for the past 50 years. It was the only place in the entire city that still held onto my memories.
"So its the same thing, I presume?"
Anthony the waiter was close to 200 years old. His silver hair was gelled and combed to the back, making his forehead look bigger. His face, well it was fair and ageless as the first day I saw him. If you ventured to ask why, he would say the vegetables here were the elixirs of life. If you were sane and logical, you would conclude it was botox.
"Yes. More chillis please."
There was a small stage right at the end. During the age of free fairies, the restaurant invited musicians, comedians and dancers from heaven and hell to entertain all its patrons. It was a lively atmosphere, and all animosity was cast aside to embrace the sheer, pure joy of laughter. However after the advent of technology, travellers dreaded leaving their realms for the plesantries of the planet. In other words, the more we knew, the more they faded away.
That night, it was only Dion. In the distant past she went by the name of Dionysus, and she was a man. He loved the parties and hedonistic debauchery, with long nights of orgies and wild abandon. Sadly, he gave his heart to a man who was as beautiful as he was. He thought that becoming a woman would win the man's total devotion, but that was not to be.
On the stage, all alone, Dion serenaded to Jewel's 'Hands'. To me, she looked more beautiful than he had ever been. Her emerald eyes glowed under the dim spotlight. Like pain, immortality was a gift that no god ever wants. If I strained my eyes, I might have caught the tears trickling down her pale, freckled cheeks.
As always, the meal was tasty and refreshing. There wasn't a place in the neighbouring towns that served such exquisite cuisine. While I wiped my mouth with the red napkin, a man with a long goatee and spiked brown hair took the chair in front of me. This was Pan, the owner of the restaurant. Unlike other days, he was wearing a pair of navy blue Levi's jeans. Perhaps, he had been travelling too much that the trends of urban living had finally caught up with him.
"Jeans?" I asked.
"Yes, yes. It has a good fit. Been raving in the tropics too often, so decided to wax the fur to keep cool," he explained.
"Ahh, I see. By the way, before Dion started singing, why did Anthony close the place? It's only half past seven."
"Hey buddy, you couldn't have forgotten aye?" he laughed. "Its Christmas!"
I was damned. All sense of time was lost, the day she drowned in the river. Whatever happened yesterday felt like ages ago. Forlorn and frustrated, I retreated into slumber, where the sand never flowed down the hourglass.
"I'm sorry Pannie, everything just stood still. She took time away with her."
"Aww..dude. It's been long enough. Nymphos are like that. They make you keep wanting 'em. Even when they're dead."
The truth hurt. It was me all along, refusing to admit how much of a hopeless shithead I was. That was her destiny, but we all felt it could be denied. The fortune-teller trembled at the revelation. She would receive no payment from us, for fear had gripped her heart.
Pan's lips parted to reveal a wide grin. It was 'the mask of evil', the villagers of old used to say. Little children shuddered as their parents narrated the eerie bedtime story. Indeed, as his slim fingers toyed with a bright amber seed, a sharp shiver crawled down my spine.
'Try this...the fruit of Peresphone's tears. Almost had to break Hades's arm to get it. Hellboy's getting fat these days, fights like a slug" he chuckled.
I took it into my mouth and bit into the shell. It was hard and hot. The spice scalding my tongue, it felt like I swallowed fire itself. The taste quickly turned to pain. It wasn't spicy anymore. Something had stung my tongue like a scorpion, and I drank my own blood. My fingers went in to snatch the little bane out of my mouth.
"WTF is this?!" I exclaimed, wiping the blood of my lips. She was a dark, yellow haired girl with butterfly wings, barely taller than my thumb. She was punching and screaming as I gripped on her two legs.
"Firefly fairies dude. Same DNA as Thumbelina. Thought you might need one. After all, you are trapped in some kid's body," Pan replied.
I placed her down on the table and her screams subsided. She wore a pink tee and tennis skirt. I could have mistaken her for Maria Sharapova, but it was pretty obvious she was chubbier. Quite a cute little wild thing, but her bite still hurt. She was complaining to Pan for conjuring such a scheme to sell her freedom, when I decided to interrupt.
"Hey little wild one, what's your name?"
"Pink champagne..and you're ugly," she scowled. She was sitting on the rim of my cocktail glass, cooling her feet on the floating ice.
"I'm Joe. Pan says you're mine now. I guess we should learn to work together, right?"
"Dream on you twit!" she stuck her tongue out with a crossed face.
She had no idea what my job was.
"That's what I do anyway. You better not regret it"
That night, that hour and that moment. You could hear Pan's laughter anywhere.
