Rap 2

I woke to discover more than twenty minutes had passed. My face was sun burnt and my head was throbbing. It was early afternoon and our neighbors were having a party in the yard across the alley. The music was loud. I got up and went into the garage.

There were two young, desert-skinned girls, about eighteen years old asleep on my bed. They looked familiar. Someone was cooking fajita meat in the kitchen. The odor of flesh being seared made me sick. I leaned over and vomited into the washing machine. When I was through I started the wash cycle, heavy duty soil. One of the girls on my bed turned over and wrapped her leg around the waist of the other girl. I could hear the beef sizzling in the frying pan in the other room. I was dehydrated and needed some liquid.

“You fell asleep in the backyard, dude,” he said.

The kitchen was filled with smoke. Jack was the one making fajitas.

“You fell asleep in the backyard, dude,” he said.

“Yes, I know,” I said.

“There’s a paper in the living room,” he said, shutting off the stove. I poured a glass of tap water and went into the living room. It was quiet there, and cool. At last I could relax. I sat on the couch. There was a breeze blowing in the front door. It felt refreshing.

I always read the front page. The first thing I saw was the picture of a young woman being loaded into a helicopter on a stretcher. The headline over the photo read: “Woman Mauled By Rabid Mountain Lion.” I folded the paper neatly in half and set it on the couch next to me. Through the back door I could hear the party across the alley. I sipped the water and closed my eyes.

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