He wrote by hand

it cramped

                   evidently hed been writing far longer than he realised

if he ever recognised how long hed gone untethered   

                                                                                    taken leave of his surroundings

by habit  addiction as some chided  he tried to make the library early after stopping for coffee  eyeing sleepily that mornings particular barista

they inevitably had bright pleasant words and laughter to go off into the day after

 

the coffee shop unfortunately ran through them like pairs of underwear on hot humid days  he couldnt remember the last time the same girl made his coffee more than a couple week running

 

the ornate light fixtures mounted among the structural arches of the rotunda had come up

he sat beneath its cowering eave  compressed atmosphere  facing the huge front doors lost somewhere across the enormous room  obscured behind the sumptuous tall stacks of books and barricades rows of long tables seated with individual wood armed chairs

its suspended hush was deafening   

                                                          if you listened for it

he rarely did

he was too occupied

contended with too many voices arguing in his head  moderating  or thrusted his hands through moist fronds or ran heavy-footed into and wandered among inkblock expanses of Chinese- Japanese-influenced mountains and jungles and blue cellophane seas whipped by foaming white waves  infested with eerie shadows maniacal denizens vicious sirens and retiring maidens

his superlative imagination teased and whipped into shape by words

Fuck he growled as he stood and worked his hand out with the thumb of his other hand

thats pitiful  he pushed his afflicted hands palm hard against the knob at the top of the chair with his other  better

he still faced the rotunda  faced where the huge doors were hidden under their remarkable beveled-glass transom

he never sat with his back to an entrance and knew exactly where the rooms egress was

a sound piqued in between his stubborn grunts

caught his attention

behind him

not a good place to be for anyone unannounced

he untethered himself from his blunt mooring and slowly turned

not sure what to expect

he taken this remote place  small round table and two chairs  for the latter part of Summer and into the august Fall

virtually unchallenged

some people had worked their way back  but he ignored them as he would unseen ghosts  no one provoked him or stuck around for his discourteous

                                              Blow Nothing here for you

when he wrote he was rude

he didnt like being taken off his musings

didnt care for the curious  Oh youre writing What are you writing

The fuck you care

Please move along

(he did say please)

the sound stopped

he ground his palm with his thumb  the knot alleviating

Yah Hello

no reply

Hello

the plane of paneling behind him shimmered  like a stroke of electricity  then popped like colored fireflies

embers escaped from a churning fire  stoked by a smithys bellow

polished obsidian

the fireflies coalesced in an outline  a constellation

 

and the constellation breathed and breathing the sound he heard breathing a shape condensed and condensed a vapor translucent grainy ashen now luminescent forming

forming

fascinating

forming

forming curves  shaping face and eyes and ears jaw nape shoulders torso legs standing on feet  stepping out of the wall  or stepping through the wall  the veil of fireflies or embers gone out

she was black  naked

she turned to her left and began down a hall to antechambers where on rare occasion people met  entering through their broad glass and half-paneled doors

he followed

she grasped a metal-worked doorknob and opened a door

he supposed her materialisation complete  now tactile  of substance

she entered into the room beyond

he saw her in the dark through the window in the door on the opposite side of a small table and chairs before

a blackboard   a razorthin white outline or eclipse surrounding her  assembling highlights  nuances  her eyes  cheeks  mouth  at the hollow of her throat

he entered the room

Hello

she said nothing  however seemed to recoil very slightly from either his presence or voice

stepping back she bumped against a chalkboard that took up nearly the whole of the wall

and restrained her hands went flat to its face  widespread  beside the flare of her round hips  she turned quickly facing the board then achingly  s l o w l y  she ran her hands up the chalkboard until she was fully extended to her height  unable to stretch any taller

  

at that apex she splayed her hands wide upon it  then  s l o w l y  a g a i n  drew her spread fingers down its face  not by her nails  by the gentle quiet pads of her fingertips  streaking the chalkboard with wiggling tracers  like molten cuts of an acetylene torch on raw metal as wisps exhaled and slithered up to the paneled ceiling

she stopped when her hands were at either side of her shoulders

collapsing into the wall leading with her right she rotated her body so she was again backed up to the chalkboard

she grimaced

or smiled

a knowingness

leaning backwards she committed her body to the shiny black wall and was absorbed

he crossed the room

went behind the table and chairs

 

vaguely etched in thin broken chalk lines he saw her

she faced him

unashamed

fixed

stoic 

he admired her breasts

his eyes wandered to her narrowed waist

  

to the V delineated by her hips to her mons pubis

bringing his eyes back up to her exquisite face he found her head was tilted down looking at the place between her thighs where momentarily before he looked

she brought her head back up to face him

in her two-dimensional aspect

her eyes became fervent

liquid

hearty

he believed for the first time she witnessed him as he was witnessing her

maybe a smile swept up her face

                                                           maybe

she blinked

and disappeared

a librarian appeared at his back excusing herself  cautiously

probably curious why he was standing in the room in the dark facing the blackboard

she informed him that the library was closing shortly

she had recognised his things at the table where he wrote   Longhand  she said

Yes  Its a habit I cant break

Or wont

Yes  I wont

she smiled and excused herself

shed be locking the door behind him when he gathered his things to leave

                                                                                                                         Well see you again tomorrow morning

he glanced briefly over his shoulder at the blackboard  then back to her

Yes  That would be nice

the librarian seemed bemused

or perhaps her face reflected his expression

leaving he snugged the antechamber door shut    an empty room

he stood outside it a moment longer expecting something 

                                                                                              nothing

walking away he did not see the disembodied hand press at the doors glass

Wednesday night Thursday morning dream,  30  9.  --  1  10. 15

0818,  Sunday,  11  10. 15