Alien Landscape

Nina

she unwrapped her leather bound wrist solemnly. almost ceremoniously. i could guess what she was hiding but i was still taken aback.

it was an archaeological site of self inflicted lacerations. i didn't know what to say to her. to this stupid sad beautiful girl who smokes like a furnace and breathe like a dragon. her scars were like a topographical map. i wanted to touch and trace the mad tangle of tributaries that marred her wrist. in the end, with all the good-girl talk planned in my head, all i said was i'm sorry.

she shrugged and lit a cigarette. i studied her discreetly, afraid that she might see beyond my attire, beyond my reason and find her reflection staring back at her.

it was comforting just sitting with her. quietly munching on her secret pain. discussing Gaiman's allegorical characters like a couple of Goth girls with posters of Morpheus and Death plastered on our bedroom walls. nanana-ing Explosions In The Sky. snickering at passing minahs with their bewitching faces and empty heads. staring at the sad ones who walked, some calculatively, some briskly, others trudging heavily, leaving a trail of blue and a pretty stench.

it was such a sad day in a very good way.

misery loves company.
Posted by NHJ 2/25/2007 02:37:00 pm

Sunday, February 25, 2007