it was a word with one syllable

"Hey!"

"Good afternoon."

"Jesus Christ! It's pouring pretty nasty"

"..."

"Phew! I'm so glad these bus stops have the little roof things over'em, that newspaper wasn't cutting it, know what i mean? Is that spot free?"

"Free?"

"Yea, mind if I sit down?"

"No. I don't mind"

"Thanx!"

"Did you bring it?"

"Bring...oh! Dammit, i forgot"

"..."

"Haha, c'mon! I'm just messin with you, course I brung it. I haven't had fun like this in a while y'know? I feel like a secrete agent! But I've never been much good with acting"

"I see"

"awww, don't look so serious, I was just joking, I'll get back into character. Seriously tho, I'm pretty bad at acting. oh! M'name's Daniel by the way, but he probably already told you that"

"He?"

"Haha, sorry forgot. no names"

"I already know your name"

"Oh ok cool. So what's yours"

"That is of little importance"

"o..k. So what's in the briefcase?"

"My part of our bargain. Whatever you want"

"Haha, ok ok, so you're going to trade me this... Oh, it's in my backpack, g'me a second"

"..."

"Ok! So you're going to trade me this 'deed' for anything I want?"

"Yes"

"Man, you really got that whole monotone voice theng down, no facial expression and ev'rytheng. Hmmmm, ok so how much money is in that brief case or is that what I'm suppose to tell you and then you give me however much I say?"

"Is money truly what you want to sell this world for?"

"So, there's no money in the case?"

"What resides in this briefcase are the contents of whatever you want in exchange and only that"

"Even though I haven't told you what it is yet?"

"How can I give you what you want if you haven't told me what it is first?" 

"What? Wait. no. you don't get what I'm saying. This game is confusing"

"What is it that you're saying?"

"So l'me get this straight. Whatever I tell you I want in exchange for this 'deed' will be in that briefcase?"

"Yes"

"Christ, alright! Heh, this is fun, let's see..hmmm, i waaant...wait! So anything I want?!"

"Whatever is of this earth"

"Earthly plane, riiight. And what does that mean?"  

"Whether it be man, machine, human emotion-"

"Wait! wait! Ok, so.. you're confusing me"

"What are you confused about?"

"What? You said man, emotion? What is that, like a magic trick"

"If that is what you would like to call it"

"Holyshit! This really is like some government conspiracy thing! You're really are some kinda secret agent, aren't you? What're you, gunna pull out some long lost relative or somethin?"

"Is that what you truly want?"

"Haha, this is cool! Ok, ok, fine I'll play along. sorry man, I'm having a hard time keeping up this act, it's been a long day"

"Is their some human you would like to have?"

"Human? Yeesh, you guys need to brushup on those communication skills. so..ummm... let's see. Hmmm..funny. Now I can't think of anyone that's disappeared out of my life suddenly, no one close to me at least. Sept for my mom"

"Is that what you want in exchange?"

"But she didn't leave leave, she, y'know? died"

"As I've told you many times already, whatever you ask for will be within this briefcase"

"Hey, watch it! That's my mom, that shit's not funny" 

"I have no intent to humor you. I know nothing of humor"

"So, what? You got like some personal artifact of hers that I don't have? Shit, you guys know everything"

"Is some personal artifact what you would like instead of your deceased mother?"

"No! Ofcourse I want my fucking mom back, geez"

"Very well"

"I told you man! It's not funny, if you open up that briefcase...what's that noise? What's that sound?"

"..."

"Oh my God! Open up the fucking briefcase and show me what you got mumbling under there! I swear to god, you guys recorded a conversation?! OPEN IT!"

"Ofcourse."

"..."

"..."

"fuck, fuck, FUCK! FUCK! CLOSE IT! SHIT! Holyshit!"

"That is what you asked for"

"..."

"Is it not?"

"..."

"Why are you getting up to leave? Our exchange has not yet been completed, 'Daniel' "

"You sick bastard. That was the weirdest FUCKING thing I've ever seen!"

"I believe that was your deceased mother"

"Fuck you! That wasn't my mom, that was some...some... kinda weird...creature...shit. I don't know what the fuck that was! That 'thing' barely looked human. What the FUCK is this? how did- how did it even- And it was crawling out of your briefcase. What the FUCK dude?! That's like, physically impossible. It was crawling out of...fuck. That small little briefcase" 

"That is of little importance to me. I complied with your request and gave you your deceased mother. And that is how deceased humans look. I have given you what you requested. I still require the contract to complete our exchange"

"This thing?"

"Yes"

"This...this isn't...I don't feel right about this man. I thought you were with the government or something. Some kinda stupid joke man, I'm outta here"

"I know nothing of humor. I know nothing of games. As I've told you already. But i have given you what you ask for, your mother in deceased form, yet you have not completed your end of the bargain. In the result that you refuse to comply with your agreement, I am forced to forfeit your life"

"Fuck you!"

"..."

"uh! Hey! I can't breathe! How are you doing this?! I can't breath!"

"Will you complete the transaction?"

"..."

"..."

"Yes! Ok!"

"Very well"

"Awww, how the hell did you do that? You didn't even touch me"

"I can do anything"

"..."

"you may sit beside me if you wish"

"What am I, crazy? You just tried to fucking kill me!"

"I will not hurt you if you comply with your end of the agreement"

"But...ok. I'll take a seat. Just give me a second. I just wanna, think about this"

"Would you like me to retract the gift of your mother?"

"What?! No! I don't want my mom to die again"

"But she is already deceased"

"Can you at least alter her appearance into a normal one"

"You mean, to look like you"

"Not 'like' me but you know what I mean"

"Very well. She will be waiting for you when you arrive home"

"Uh...ok"

"You may hand it over"

"So...is this really a deed to the world?"

"That is true. And i don't know how it wound up in your hands, but i assure you it will be much 'safer' in mine"

"Should I.. do this?"

"Why does it matter? Some say this world will end in fire anyway or destroyed in some form or another"

"here's a good question. What are you? Who sent you?"

"You should already know the answer to that question"

"That old man? The one who gave this thing to me, he sent you?"

"I know nothing of this 'old man' you speak of"

"I don't...i don't feel right about this. I own the world! I should just keep it!"

"Would you like me to retract your mother"

"No! I told you! I just...don't feel right"

"That is of little importance to me"

"Hello?! I'm 'selling' the fucking world! I shouldn't be ok with it"

"But you have your mother"

"You don't get it..."

"What do I not 'get' Daniel?"

"No! Forget it..."

"..."

"What are you?"

"That is of little importance"

"But if you're not human, why do you look human?"

"This was chosen as the only form humans can understand"

"Hope you're comfortable in that human skin?"

"No more than you are in those human 'clothes' "

"I still don't feel right about this. I mean what are you? Are you an angel?"

"Angel?"

"Yea"

"Would that make you feel better?"

"..."

"If I told you 'what' I was, you're mind would not be able to comprehend it. So it would be healthier for you to believe I am one "

"What? But you don't have any wings. can you fly?"

"alot better than you can"

"I can't believe that old man owned the world? I just though he was some crazy bum"

"The 'old man' who gave this to you. What was his name?"

"A..Adam"

"Yes. He was a...curious human"

"He said he lost his wife a long time ago...is that what he got when he gave this to me?"

"Yes. He was a.. curious human"

"..."

"Ahhh...are those human tears? I've never seen them before"

"I don't want to sell the world... this must be how the world ends"

"I see. You think this is the first time I have done this. But I assure you, I have done this hundreds of times before. Your world has lived beneath my lenses for longer than you know"

"Are you immortal?"

"Immortal?"

"y'know? Live forever?"

"That would require time. A concept that seems to only exists amongst man, if that is the case, then no. I am not- from your expression just now I can see you can't comprehend such an existence, so i'll say that I do posses characteristics of your immortal"

"so.. you are immortal?"

"Yes"

"I want to be immortal. Like you"

"If I am immortal. I am immortal because I chose to be. I can be anything I want and so can you."

"What? I don't get it"

"I see. That is why they are in such a state."

"What?"

"You men think it impossible. When what I reveal to you is true. And regardless of what you chose, because it is truth, your opinions and emotions will never change that. Surely, that is 'immortal' if immortal is what you seek. But that is of little importance. What is important, is you perceive these things are all impossible. Only accessible in dreams. You perceive them as pure and callow frivolities, untouched by a world full of grotesque, worthless beings, wandering forlorn" 

"I don't get it! I can't-I can't achieve immortality, it's impossible"

"Very well. If immortality is what you desire, then I shall retract your mother and after our conversation is finished, I will transform you into a thought. Surviving in the limitless space of the ionosphere, sure to wander its vastness in solitude where there exist no God, no universe, no human race, no earthly life, no heaven, no hell, no relative or companion forever--not only a thought, but the only thought within existence of human knowledge, amongst a sea of vast emptiness Inextinguishable and indestructible." 

"No! No! I want my mom man, c'mon! Stop doing that! But, if I sell this to you, will I, y'know, burn in hell?"

"Will that make you feel better?"

"..."

"your answer"

"Yes"

"..."

"Answer me!"

"Very well"

"Here take it!"

"Goodbye"

"Wait! Wait! Jesus christ! Wait! What the fuck are you?"

"You have asked me this many times before and i have answered that it is beyond your comprehension, for, if human thought were capable of comprehending my form, it would collapse into itself. The closest I can come to describing my form without destroying your fragile, feeble minds, is by saying that i am not here"

"I don't get it! What does that mean?!"

"When you search for me after this conversation is over with, as you're sure to do, you will not find me. for i am the manifestation of man's inescapable fate, albeit his idiocy and this recital shortend to the point of risking moronity, our meeting will haunt you for the rest of your existence. Goodbye. For 'I' will never see you again"

"Wait! Where you go?! Wait! Come back!...who are you? This all wrong! It wasn't suppose to happen like this! It was just suppose to be a fucking joke. What do I do now...?"

The Decision

Somehow, she'd managed to marry all three of them. Without their knowledge. And after they found out, some how, she was such a muse, that none of them could live without her.

Neither the musician, the painter, nor the poet.

All three of them sat around a table and stared at the gun.

So this is how the decision was going to be made.

It was hot. And next to the revolver laid two bullets. Winking back at them in that goddamned afternoon heat.

All three of them were down to their shorts. With t-shrits tightly wrapped around their heads to catch the sweat leaking from their tar black dreads. The anxiety didn't help.

Anya spit his tobacco onto the dusty wooden floor. Sweat trickled down the cheek and armpit. And melted the crack of his ass.

Chukwu lifted his foot and wiggled off his shoe. Then pulled an old, crooked cigarette from out his sock. And lit it with his last match.

"Fuck," he said quietly, which turned to a yell in the silence.

Then he looked out the window.

"One window. One cigarette. One match. One bullet.-"

"One gun!" Aziza cut-in, snatching the gun and bullet from off the table.

He started loading it.
Chukwu looked to Anya. And on another exhale said,

"Anya, how old are you today?"

"27"

"You know, if you die today, your artwork will be famous"

"Why's that?"

"I dunno. That's just what happens when you have artwork and die at the age of 27"

Anya looked to Aziza, who in-turn looked to Chukwu.

Aziza growled.

"Fuck that! Can we just get this fucking over with?! It's bad enough I'm spending my last few precious moments on this God-forsaken planet in an old shack with you two nuts. And I'm hot!"

Aziza heaved out a heavy sigh as if he were a coffee filter, filtering out the pacifism and retaining the anger.

Anya turned his attention back to Chukwu,

"Well, I'm a poet"

There was silence.

"No matter what age I die at, my work will be famous. Just so long as I die first!"

And then they both laughed hard.

"I hate your poems" Aziza snarled, "Their always too long!"

"What about my stories?"

"I hate your stories" Chukwu cut-in, "Their always too short"

"Oh.."

Anya was lost for words. So he looked defeated and spat again. This time in a jug housed near the door way entrance.

Chukwu leaned back and his chair croaked.

That's when Aziza slammed the gun on the table.

"Fuck! Guys, we doin this?"

"Yes. Yes. Let's start" Chukwu said, pulling forward from his lean.

And it was silent for a moment.

Then Aziza lifted the revolver as if it weighed a ton, and held it shakily to his head.

"O.K." He whispered.

The barrel pressed hard against the wet head wrap, squeezing out a few drops of cold sweat. Then he narrowed his eyes to the blades of sunlight spotting the table from the window.

"O.K." He said again.

And then he squinted his eyes and began analyzing that sunlight.

Chukwu sighed.

"OK. OK?! Give't'ere kid"

"Huh?"


"The gun. Hand it over. It's going to take you forever to pull that damn trigger. This shit could take all day. And I'm hot!"

Aziza stared at him with a questioning look. Forcing Chukwu to reach over that table and yank it out his hand.

Chukwu settled back in his seat and gave the revolver a once over. Then he took a hit.

"Here we go."

and pressed hard against his temple.




It took a half an hour but they finally came down to a decision.

Anya exited out the back room of the old starving artist cafe.
From his white t-shirt to the crinkled, cargo shorts taped to his thighs, he was drenched in sweat.
A dirty cigarette dangled between his lips. Hanging on the brink of extinction.

He walked down the stairs, past the mundane patrons, past the hand waving clerk, and out the door.

It was five pm in the city
The sun was bright.
And the heat wave stuck him like a hot knife.
It showered him, almost mercilessly, with heat and more sweat.
Anya scrunched his face up as if he were on the toilet.
Anya sat down at a broken table and pulled out a wod of old newspapers from his back pants pocket. and discarded the bundle in a trash can beside him.

Then he opened a notebook, pulled a pen creased between the pages, and stared at it. His cigarette had gone out.

There was half lit cigarette staring at him from an ash trey. Anya picked it out of the ash and pressed it to the tip of his cigarette until it began to glow.

He hid himself behind things like books and chess, and opera and poetry. He was the shell of an idea he once had as a kid and got stuck. There was a brief pause, at that moment, where he sat there holding on to the half-lit cigarette.

The two people who understood him most in this world, were now gone.

"Oh no..."

He whispered like something trapped and dying.

But Anya had more inspiration for his poetry now. So he sat and smoked until he was ready to write some more. Then he began scribbling nonsense on the lined sheets of notebook paper.

i ENVY people 

who can laugh at themselves so easily. With nerves of steel. It's like they can see something I can't see. They see past all the blury and fuzziness that clouds my eyes and makes me question everything I see.

Been a while since I kissed this page.

But i feel like the older I get the more I realize how ignorant i am. I write because somehow, I feel like that makes me smarter... what does it all mean?