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Windower

The Past

Tuesday, June 29, 2004
-**-

The day was a dreary one. A cold, misty drizzle had laid down some fog. It stretched as far as the eye could see. But I did not let this faze me. The weather could not keep me from completing my task. The task which only I could perform. I put on my favorite pair of skintight capri pants and the hooded sweatshirt that I had bought at Sea World many years ago. I picked up the sweatshirt and gazed at the faded Shamu decal. It brought back memories of that giant killer whale who was made to jump through hoops for fish. Oh how I wish I could have given him the freedom that he had so desired. Don't worry, big guy. I'll experience enough freedom for the both of us. I laced up my shoes and grabbed two ponytail holders from the desk. My hair was like me: a free spirit. It could not be contained and held down by physical bonds, so the best I can manage is two poofs of hair like my mother used to do for me.

I opened the door and breathed it in. The fresh air envigorated me, but something was missing. My mouth started to salivate, but I held off for now. Best not to jump into things. Taking a few steps, I let myself become one with the playing field. I felt every nook and cranny of the asphalt through my shoes. A few inches of rubber couldn't numb me to what I knew was mine.

I broke off into a slow trot. The road slippery from the rain yielded little resistance. I felt the energy build within me, so I pressed on. Coaxing it and building it up. I let it feed me to keep me going on. Like a raging fire, I felt it deep within my soul. I couldn't even feel the rain upon my face since my skin was so hot. Finally, I felt as it would burst from my body. The limit was approaching fast. If I didn't act soon, I would lose it.

Thrusting my hand deep within my pocket, I extracted the 3 day old pack of Malboros that were hidden within. Vigorously, I wrenched a cigarette from the box with my teeth while my left hand thrust into the hoody to grasp my lucky lighter. I named him Jerry after my first love. One flick of the flint. Two flicks. Nothing. My third rewarded my olfactory senses with the aroma of butane. It was a signal of things to come. My body trembled in expectation.

The first drag is always the best. The nicotine and endorphines danced a heavenly tango within my body that lifted me up into the skies. The blue-gray haze of the cigarette began to blur and swirl into the fog. The landscape around me faded away. I felt a car drive by me, the air currents disrupting the masterpiece scenery in my mind's eye. But new colors began to ripple and form due to the disturbance. Destruction begets creation.

I kept going because I had no choice. My legs moved of their own accord. I doubt I could have stopped them even if I wanted to. I felt myself growing short of breath, so I took another drag. I could barely blink. I didn't want to. I had no choice but to...

"Hey! HEY!"

A strong hand wrapped around my upper arm. Within a flash, the world reverted back to normal. The cigarette fell from my limp fingers.

"You're crazy, lady. That light is green. Do you want to get run over?"

I was in front of the Shell station, about to pass through the intersection. Cars whizzed by me, in a hurry to do their menial things.

"Good morning to you too, Ackmad," I replied. Turning towards the shell station, I opened the door and walked inside.

~The Epic Tales of Joggy-Smokey Lady, Volume 6

Hey guys, Xerlic here. As secretary and one of the founding members of the JSLFC (Joggy-Smokey Lady Fanclub), I have to thank Grey for giving me the honor and priviledge of being able to contribute to the history of the JSL. Keep on the lookout!

Xerlic (11:38 PM)

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