Wednesday, February 13, 2013


Cumbersome; adjective: Large or heavy and therefore difficult to carry or use; unwieldy; slow or complicated and therefore inefficient.

Morbid; adjective: Characterized by or appealing to an abnormal and unhealthy interest in disturbing and unpleasant subjects, esp. death and disease.

Rampage; verb: (Especially of a large group of people) rush around in a violent and uncontrollable manner; noun: A period of violent and uncontrollable behavior, typically involving a large group of people.


The storm rages on outside.  Large droplets of rain beat against the window and the sound resonates in the house as if it is raining inside.  The power has been out and the lit candles cast moving shadows that make the house feel unsafe, not from the rain; something else.  The wine is still chilled and I pour another glass to take off the edge.  There is so much to do. I partly think that darkness can benefit the task.  I look about to find the items needed.  I get distracted as I walk by my fish tank.  I apologize that there is no electricity and the goldfish are unconcerned but they do want some food.  I feed them hoping to comfort them.  You may laugh, but I am affectionate towards my fish.  Their eyes see everything, but they never tell.  Fish are excellent pets. 

I do not need light to find what I need.  The duffle bag is large and cumbersome, and easily found in the bottom of the closet.  If something is not packed inside, it can be easily replaced.  That is how I feel towards material things.  They serve a purpose and disposable.  I did not always feel this way.  There was a time I valued having a lot of everything.  I could not do what I do if there were things for me to be responsible for.  In the shadows I can see the paint peeling off the walls, the house is rubbish anyway, nothing really to lose.  No one knows the house is rubbish.  I never invited anyone over.  I think on several occasions I even lied about my address. The lack of everything would disappoint anyone else, but I find it freeing.  Part of me knows there will not be another place such as this.  It is slightly morbid to me to know my next residence is a penthouse with glossy marble tiled floors.  I will have a dog walker that will bring my dog to the park twice a day. The doorman will know of all my comings and goings.  There will no longer be the freedom of the shack.  Part of me wants to set fire to everything, but the rain has changed my mind.  If I set fire to everything, I want it to have the opportunity to burn completely to ashes.   I have never felt completely safe. I suppose my surroundings have never made me secure.

I return to the fish with a large bucket and drain the water to half and net them out.  I do love them.  Carrot, the largest goldfish has grown too large for the tank.  He is going on four years old.  I am taking them to the nearest pond and setting them free.  Carrot was won at the local carnival, I could not bear it if I left them to die alone.  At least in the pond they will have a chance.  The tiny ones I fear will become food for larger fish or turtles. 

I finish my wine and consider if I should wait until the rain stops, but considering that I have an eighteen hour drive I would rather get going and risk the danger of the weather than contemplate staying.   I pull on my goulashes and trudge to the car lugging first my bag, then another trip to put the fish in the passenger floorboard.    The rain has soaked me and I grab the wine bottle and blow out the candles.  I make the last trip to the truck.  Inside the truck I remove my wet jacket and put on a hat. 

There is no one to tell I am leaving except the fish and there is no way to assure them everything will be alright.  I pull out into the night, I consider telling the fish of my plans to make my way to the West and consider taking them along.  Could they survive the drive?  Sentimental?  What kind of person arrives to their penthouse with a bucket of goldfish?  It is laughable.  Arriving with live fish would certainly set me apart from the other neighbors.  I regret I did make preparations for them.  I will let them loose soon enough.  My dog will keep me company in the penthouse.  I’m getting a puppy that will surely rampage the penthouse.

In the rear view window I watch the house disappear in the darkness and rain.  I know I will not return. 


  1. ooh more I love to know the background of why they are running

  2. I love this! Really makes my imagination run wild with the back story. Brilliant