Wanting to want

When I find myself at a lack of something
I once wished, it doesn’t always dismay me
to be free of that possession.
Hell, I couldn’t count how many times
owning what I wanted was worse than the
unmitigated desire of wanting it in
the first place.


Breaking etiquette is easy when you are drugged

Henrique woke up, finally feeling sore.

He decided that was a good thing. The fact that he felt anything meant he was still alive. That’s what his mother had always said to him. Secondly, it meant that he could just feel that rather than the blood. He wasn’t bleeding out anymore. He could feel how he was patched up.

It hurt.

Then he remembered what had happened. “How are you feeling?” the nurse asked him.

Right, he wasn’t alone. “You have vampires working in a hospital?” Henri asked the man, feeling the wool in his head still.

The man looked about to sigh, but just nodded. “We have a few in our employ. Don’t worry though, they are no danger.”

Henri could have said that. After all, it was a vampire who brought him here. “The… one in the ambulance. What’s his name? He… he saved me.”

The nurse appeared to have some sort of change of heart, but Henri didn’t know what. He realized he had to be on some painkillers. “I will let him know.”

That wasn’t the answer he wanted, but Henrique drifted off nonetheless.

She started to look.

The girl was always at the bus stop, playing guitar with her case open for tips, until one day she wasn’t.

Lori stared at the empty spot as people walked right through it, not noticing for an instant that they were stepping on such sacred ground. It wasn’t as though the guitar playing was amazing or anything, but it wasn’t bad. It was more of the tenacity that the girl had always showed. That she was always there. That she had been better yesterday than the first time Lori had heard her.

Then she was gone, no warning.

Lori shook her head and walked onward, deciding that it was just the timing. After all, the guitarist couldn’t have always been there. She had to be going to eat or something else. Wherever she lived. Lori believed that.

But when the guitarist wasn’t there the next day, Lori began to feel concerned.

On the third day, she started to look.

Fifteen of ’em

Aup learned a long time ago to stop wanting things. It was a lot easier to just take a thing and decide if you wanted it later.

This was how they ended up with fifteen whisks. “What am I supposed to do with these?”
Pau rolled their eyes. “I don’t know. Why did you bring them in the first place.”

Aup bit their lower lip. “I didn’t do this all at once or anything. This was more like a one at a time.”

“Then how?”

“I’m cleaning,” they told Pau, sitting down at the table. They had two of those. It was easier to remember that they had two tables. It was harder to remember that they had any whisks. “I just… found them all.”

“I see you found the box of masking tape I told you I’d brought.”

Aup made a face. “I said I was sorry.”

“Such accusations.”

“And I am sorry!”

Their little tiff notwithstanding, Aup still had fifteen whisks and no idea what to do with them. Perhaps their way of life wasn’t the best way of going about it.

No, that was fine. They preferred trying to figure out what to do with it then needing one and not having it. In this way, Aup learnt nothing.

The lies of Autumn

I never quite trusted autumn. It had this annoying habit of never quite fulfilling the promises it made.

Which would have been fine, actually, if they didn’t often come so close. I would nearly win the race. I would nearly get there on time. I would nearly be seen by my favorite drummer. But just… close enough was still so far away. Having the almost hurt more than anything.

Therefore, when my interview lined up for the end of autumn, rather than in the beginning of winter when I had thought they would get back to me, I felt like giving up.

“Don’t do that,” my wife scolded.

She should have known better. She had been slammed by autumn as much as I had. Though part of me wondered if it was just me, or if she simply hadn’t been observant of it before meeting up with me.

Nevertheless, she used the lint roller on my jacket to get rid of all the cat hair and sent me on my way. Here it was, the perfect interview that would appear to go well.

Part of me wanted to sabotage it so it couldn’t even be close. I smiled.

I could wait long enough, for winter to bring me its luck.

Trains move fast

As it turned out, being immortal didn’t make him very wise. It just kind of made him desperate.

“Couldn’t you have waited until the train wasn’t rushing by?” his companion chided, helping out by making it so that the pieces of his body wouldn’t have to go as far to return to him. The other man didn’t flinch when picking up the flaps of skin and shredded muscle. Fortunately for him, it seemed.

“The train was so gatdammned long.” His jaw was back in place now, so he could talk about it. Probably why the other waited so long to ask him what the deal was.

“Now you have to wait even longer. You didn’t even save any time, you wasted it. Especially considering just how far down the tracks the rest of you likely is by now.”

He sighed. He was going to be hearing about this for weeks, if not months. “Well, if ya bring my leg over here, I’ll be able to walk to the rest of me.”

“I’m feeling unappreciated.”

“Come on, you’re plenty ‘ppreciated. Just because I’m grumpy don’t mean a thing about the level of appreciation.”

“Hm. Perhaps you even mean that.”

The rest of the evening was spent piecing him back together.