The Train

"Did you notice Chester looks the same?"

"I rather not notice him at all."

Mighty falls off the side of a spring mattress into a pile of sheets; he stands to be a ghost.

"Both of them look like that; I don't get it either. Something about that though..."

You Know Who pulls the white garment off the man.

"We are not in the Dirty South yet..."

"Yet?"

"What do you mean Who?"

"I'll be damned; that is the one place I never wanted to go and I know somebody is going to make me just because of that."

"Then we will go too."

"What's the Dirty South?"

"Some place we got to keep it clean."

"I don't want to go..."

"Neither do I; what about you Mighty?"

"I'll be waiting for you on the other side."

I saved up enough dough to make a crazy man's cake; a frame made especially for grinding rails, one of which I eyed with an intense blaze, Times Square once a year hosts a red carpet for invitation with glass barriers boasting aluminum steel composite walker handles.

People at the department store come by and talk to me while I work; they ask me about certain implemented procedures.

"Do you know what the number for this item is..."

"Where do we stock the incoming new merchandise..."

"How do you list a damaged box?"

"How do you claim a defective product?"

Somehow the information poured out of me like a faucet that just keeps running and jumping hurdles until a new stocker working alongside me decided to be a plumber.

"What do you do when the boxes do not fit in categorized order?"

"You make your own puzzle to put together."

This was my method for keeping this position; I am tyranny of shelving goods. He seems to be determined to do whatever possible to correct issues and solve problems; I understand I might need to find myself elsewhere, I might be missing a couple of pieces.

Zoom and I are complacent; we know this while ordering parts for our finale. Somewhere our hearts beat half a drum of lightning and thunder raining tears we suffer for our women.

M&M is understanding routine; this he parallels with his studies.

"I am cycling around a clock; I don't want to do that anymore."

Who is involved in politics; his support for a local underdog interests our interests.

"It's still not enough."

"I know..."

I dream about Catri while I am trying to sleep; Mighty says he never saw me smile until that moment which satisfied him in such a way.

"What was it about?"

"She was wearing a suit..."

"What were you wearing?"

"It felt really good..."

"What was she doing in the suit?"

"Holding something in her hands..."

"What was it?"

"I'm not sure."

"Where were you?"

"Somewhere it doesn't rain..."

I better catch the train or else I am going to miss the red carpet. Zoomy is on the other side of the tracks talking to somebody; once the buzzing boxes cleared the concrete alley I see Julio. Next to me a man is achievement of greatness untouchable for fingers belonging to ravens; his name is Hector.

"Hey..."

All he can do is glow brighter than a shooting star; comets disappear but if we are lucky they come back.

Two white birds spiral down the staircase from a mob chasing them throwing various discarded objects, one of which is a used credit card; we watch in misery until action moves us to block their entrance. People fear single men with nothing to lose and everyone to gain.

"We won't fuck with you! Just send them away!"

"Who?"

"The people who make us do things like this!"

They walk away in despair of dullness we never knew existed until we witnessed their bodies chugging along with frozen smoke from a broken subway. The train does not matter anymore and neither does the red carpet. Our chests leap to prompt a spin; sitting on the tracks are two men.

"We got to get them out of here."

"How do we do that?"

"We can't let them die."

"No we can't."

Two white struggling figures are confused by chaotic constructed metals while Hector and Julio are uncertain of gentle hands. The tunnel is quiet with not a single person to hear the sound; they all ran the other way when we took our stance. We look at each other once to acknowledge the jump we will take to bring them out however we are aware they will not leave without the doves. Thoughts flood our vessels with pictures; machines, clocks, construction, children, police, ambulance, armies, politicians. Everything and everyone is undifferentiated inside our minds from the world we know to be unkind.

"You're going to be alright!"

"We will be waiting for you!"

The train finally arrived.