Leavetaking

I pulled out of Joppet's street at 2:43am. The Swordfish was tired from the day's drive and i wasn't that far behind. The windows roll themselves down and the outside rushes in a flurry of images reflecting long walks and nights spent over blanket and under sky. On those streets and on that blanket I was always secretly pretending I was the happiest bedouin on earth. I'm sure half of that was true.

I tell myself I am memorizing the turns and the curbs because between light and thought, I fall to pretending that I am the queen's lost camera. I tell myself I am driving so slow because i drive too fast most of the time. And I tell myself I felt emtpy because the streets were the same.

But even the streets knew better.

On Mount McDo I went to find kalachuchi girl but she has either moved on to a different haunt or I was too late. Under the shadow of the alabang viaduct I searched for Manong Bulag but the bridge rehabilitation work must have forced him to find another place to sleep. Across an empty lot on Madrigal Street, I sought out the Patience Tree but he/she/it was fast asleep and I knew better than to wake a sleeping tree.

So I reach home a little less than just empty-handed. And I drag a sleeping bag out from my unhappy room. And I sneak back in to get all my pillows except one. And I take this handydandylaptop. And I thank the tincan gods for wifi.

And here I lie under an evil sky. Fending off evil mosquitoes. Writing this evil story on an evil laptop on our evil terrace. Banished from my evil room.

And I wonder about truffles. And how they taste.

And I wonder if the wizard really did give nothing to the Tin Man. That he didn't--didn't already have.

And I warn the dreamking that I am coming.

And I give myself to sleep.