Postcard(s) at Night

"To mourn a mischief that is past and gone

is the next way to draw new mischief on" - Mr. Shakespeare

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Recently, for the first time in nearly five years ... Why, since literally being run out of town back in '10 ... I spent an enjoyable extended stay in Miami.

Miami ... Where a young(ish) man's dreams turned to ash, along with the molt of his reputation.

Miami!  Death of name and pride ... The violent starvation of anything lovely, the horror of shame-given life, told to hide ...

Made to feel horrendous.  A loser inside.

Watch the wife feed the loser ... half-believing the lies ...

Having nowhere to turn, or herself run and hide, she can only reluctantly flail and pile on; not wanting to feel her love for The Loser, she can only hold tight to her furies, resentments and 20-year grudges, and dredging these up to protect herself when she feels the way she's supposed to feel:  in love and supportive, not wanting to harm ...

Not wanting to wound him and kill anymore than he's already crippled and dying inside ... her defense is to do exactly that:  wound and kill, any love she feels might be alive still.

Protecting herself, because Loser's disabled ...

“Gone Skyline (Night)”, ©Jeff Glovsky

Heat Interlude

"(H)e that filches from me my good name ...

makes me poor." - William Shakespeare

After restless slumber the night before, you bound from your bed like a Christmas child and run off to the bank ... Anticipating, hoping to rip and tear open the gift of my "ripoff", my "scam", my "scheme".

I've written you a check.  But guess what?  It cleared.

I'm sorry!  

I didn't mean to dash your dreams.  Eliminate your expectations.  Yank the ground from underneath your threats and sweats and trepidations ... Your accusations.  Baseless noise, about having to take "a legal recourse" (of course, you "don't want to" ... Understood, sir!).

I'm sorry ...

I didn't mean to end your intrigues!  At 8:32 am, at the bank ... Waiting, hoping to be apprised of "insufficient funds" to take your fun against me to the next level.  The phone call:  "advising", chiding, deriding, detailing the things you "really don't want to" do, but WILL DO (you yell), because I 'leave you no choice'.

I'm sorry?

What time will you be at the bank, Jeff?!

I don't know the hour, sir!  But your check will clear today after I get there.  OR you may simply deposit my check and you'll have no issues.  I'm sorry you've got issues now ...

My check has cleared, sir.  I'm done with you.

You Yelp-ing creep!  With your threats of "review" and unpleasant demands - because you think you can.  You've read somewhere online, you MUST:  "avoid", "beware", run / keep away ... before I "take advantage" of you, you will do unto others ... But not me.

Get out of my house, man.

Your stay is ended, your welcome worn.  I am putting you out of (y)our miseries and returning a full month's rent to you.  The check will clear.

Oh, wait, sorry.  It has cleared.

I'm done with you.  We're finished here.

"I am none of these things." - Robert Smith

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