Monday, August 1, 2016

Random Rainbows (Blogophilia 24.9)

 
 
Thick steam rose from the pebbled pavement in front of Tom’s Tiki. Random rainbows scattered here and there in the slanting afternoon sun. It was another typical Orlando summer day, but the afternoon Turkish baths still amazed him. Beginning as thin wisps, the clouds would expand out of invisible extruders, growing larger and darker as the morning rolled on. Gestation was completed right after lunch and nature’s tears would blind all that could see. He had always heard your watch could be set by them, but it wasn’t until he had spent a full summer that he realized it was true. Paradise? It had been for a while. 
 
The bar was almost empty. Disappearing diamonds adorned the few cars in the lot. Cars played red light chicken on OBT just beyond the curb. The rain had chased the tourists into an early siesta and the chained drones hadn’t been let out of their cages yet. A bored barmaid lazily dried glasses in preparation for the evening, her tattooed arms broadcasting a string of bad decisions. The screens lined up across the bar were showing a Marlin’s game. They were ignored. No one ever paid attention to baseball here after spring training. 
 
The ice in the glass was almost gone and Micki was almost out his life. Four years of ups, downs and sideways were shattered in an afternoon encounter. Given what she had told him of her past, it shouldn’t have been a surprise. In fact, he probably could have set a watch on when it was going to happen. But good sex turned was just like the storms, turning him into a blind tourist. 
 
Work had let off early on a hot day a week ago. On the drive home, the only thing he wanted was the cold beer in the carport fridge. He pulled in, got the beer and walked into a show where he wasn’t supposed to be in the audience. Two slightly flabby bodies sharing angelic moments with the other. Micki had an orange chain boa tied across her shoulders. The color clashed horribly with her flame red rinse. Her partner in crime was a short mid 40’s bottle blonde with rainbow streaks. And like him, trying for the fountain of youth. The surprise pink teddy had to be at least two sized too small, fabric was ripping against her fake tits. He couldn’t stop watching. It was a live bad porn show in the living room. Moaning and laughter rang out as they shared some faux pas. It was beautiful world they had created for each other, both erotic and infuriating.
Without thinking, he pulled out his phone to immortalize the moment and stumbled into the doorjamb. 
Startled, the women screamed and fell off the couch. Getting to their feet, they stammered the usual apologies and excuses. Bottle blonde thought he was cute and in a whiskey and weed tinged voice asked him to join in the festivities. 
 
He kept his wits and no one was physically hurt, but there was a lot screaming. That was all he remembered until the check-in desk at the motel. His boss was understanding and let him have a few days off, but he was due back tomorrow. He wasn’t sure if he was ready.
 
The phone was on the table, mocking, daring him to pick it up and blast the betrayal to the world. The hand hovered and stopped. A voice ran in his head. “It takes quite a spine to turn the other cheek.” Where did that come from? She’s the one who put me in hell. Why shouldn’t I choose to bring hell back to her? With a few taps, the picture of the startled women appeared and he stopped. The laugh began small, then grew louder and louder. They were just a couple old circus clowns getting one more performance before they died. Thinking about it, he realized the privilege of being the audience. Turning off the screen, he dropped it in his shirt pocket. 
 
Without asking, a fresh Gin and Tonic down appeared. He looked up. The barmaid had a scowl. She had seen the picture and probably though he was some sort of pervert. This was his last call. Silently, the card was placed in her hand. 
 
Micki beat him to the courthouse, but who served who didn’t matter. The relationship was gone. Can’t waste my love on somebody who doesn’t value it, right? He’d heard that before. Shakespeare or something? He drained the glass and headed back to his room. Signing the papers had been the first step.It was time to move on.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Topic-Dahlia Ramone
Pic Guesses-Chained Drone (in blog), chain boa (in blog), slave, leash, life choice, silver chain, middle class, stuck, kept man,

No comments:

Post a Comment