Friday, April 10, 2015

some towns are not on the map. some towns don't have official names they may just be known by some historical event, or some landmark. 

i drove west into the desert.
the car was dying, a steady black burning cloud of smoke escaped from the grill. i was out of drugs, out of luck and out of time. my skin was blistering up, the heat was slowly making everything slow down to a stop, i could feel my heart beating, each beat slower than the last, blood sluggishly pumped its way through my body and the sun was blazing down. i figured i had less than an hour, either the car would seize up or i would.
the red dust was everywhere, on the windscreen, on the dash, on the skin and in my throat, it was finding its way into my eyes past my sunglasses. i wiped the petrol gauge with my hand, smearing the dust, it was in the red. everything out here was in the red.
the road stretched out, hazy and half there, i couldn't even be sure if there was a road any more. i just drove forwards instinct, my eyes must have been more closed than open, slipping into some sort of micro sleep.
when i opened them the town was looming.
must have been an old mining town, the tin huts and shop fronts all boarded up, a few shops on the high street and a hotel and pub. the car gave up right outside the hotel.
i must have fallen out from the car as i awoke in dust bruised and battered and burning up. i lifted my head and saw the doorway to the pub, some clanky piano music seeping out and a crowd singing some strange tune.
i crawled towards it loosing my sunglasses in the process. every movement sent throbs of pain along side, something was not quite right inside me. dense pain, throbbing guts, my eyes streaming with water, it was all getting blurry now, the door the music, the desert skies. my arm pushed against the door and it swung open as white light flooded out swallowing me up, white radiant light beautiful and perfect. when my eyes closed the light swallowed me up.

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