The Gathering

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It’s a Friday.

The night is young.
The air is warm and light. But, our hearts, oh so cold and heavy,
Like a corpse the fisherman yanks out of the river,
With no intention of doing so.

Speaking of the river-

Oh hey, Virginia! Why are you off to the river at this hour, all by yourself?
And what’s that in your pocket? Must you really go? Join us for a drink! Yes, yes, there’s place at the table for you, of course! No, you won’t be bothering us. Come, let’s talk the deep, the revolutionary, the women and the war. The bar is bustling and the kitchen is alive!

Kitchens bring to mind…

What are you mulling over, Sylvia? Oh? WHAT? He did THAT? Hush now, don’t brood over it. Let the bourbon fill our glasses, while your musings about the universe fill our souls. Come be the light of the party- you’re so good at that! We want to hear about that time you stormed into the party, gave him a piece of your mind, and took a piece of him with you. And of course, that scar you gave him! Yes, tell us once more. We can never get tired of it!
Come raise hell. Let’s drown out the world while they keep wishing they were us. Oh and do leave the kitchen alone tonight. Yes, you can clean the gas later. Or we’ll hire some help for you! Tonight we need you!

And while you’re at it,
Get Anne too. She’d love the company! Yes, yes, tell her there’ll be vodka. She says she’s gotta work in the garage. There’ll be no need of that tonight. Pick her up on your way over.

Oh and you too, Ernest. Please clean that damned gun of yours some other day. What’s with all this cleaning business, you guys? It’s been a long day, and the world has been particularly harsh. Forget about that gun and how a particular kind of climax has become family tradition, yes? Just for a night.

And make sure you bring that Kurt along! His dark humour would go perfectly with the dark bourbon. Tell him, if he’s having trouble sleeping, one wild night should tire him enough (Sylvia will make sure of that)!

Speaking of wild nights…

How can we continue without the bonafide wild child. Yes, we’re looking at you, Hunter. We hear you’ve gotten terribly bitchy of late. Don’t blame it on the old age. We’re not buying into that bull shit. This absurd gathering should do you alright. Haul your ass over, yes? Rumour has it, you’ve been up to some failed experiments. Honestly, we’re a little worried.

What say, everyone? Let’s talk him out of it?

Let’s talk you out of it.

Over whiskies watered down by melting chunks of ice.
Over pieces of our broken hearts neatly stacked next to leftovers.
Over loud laughter that sounds like a prayer to shroud the hell we’ve been carrying on our shoulders.

Let’s talk you all out of it.
Let’s talk you. 

Let’s talk.


One comment

  1. This is so beautiful. For the different minds, for the different souls.
    P.S: I love spending Friday evenings with you. 🙂

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