miércoles, 24 de enero de 2007

Monteverde - waking life

I was planning on writing about my interesting bus journey but that was before I had a fried egg and cheese sandwich and attempted to get some much needed rest in the dormroom, which was empty at the time.

I lounged in my vest and pants on the bed thinking about not one thing in particular when the walls fell away from my peripheral vision and I was being lifted out of my bed by a helicopter sound and unceremoniously dumped down in the street. I felt woozy and restless but i couldn't open my eyes even for a minute. I turn over in the dust and push myself to my knees. My hand feels for a strange sensation emanating from my belly and glancing at my upturned palm I see that I've been shot.

There's no chance of controlling the sensations but I need to survive for something, there must be someone around who knows whats happened. Focus! There! In the corner of the square, running in slow motion I spy a street rat. Concentrate Jon, concentrate. I reach down to where my revolver sits by my right butt cheek and draw it out to head height, trying to control my shakes.

Slug, slug. The shots hit the boy in the shoulder and I see him topple head first into a newstand in front of a cafe sending Bradd Pitt streamnig helplessly across the street. I myself fall into the wall next to my left shoulder and my vision starts to swirl uncontrolably. I sink down from a standing position to a half crouch, hands clasped across my reddening belly. Apply pressure. Wait it out, stay conscious....

All blacks out finally and I can hear the hum f the helicopter once again overhead.

Whum whum whum whum whum whum.

"You gave up on life didn't you, you fucking bum!"

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