The Escape

Hanna walked into my office unexpectedly
and said "We have to go. Now." Dumbfounded
at seeing her at my job, I just stared at her. Before
I could say anything she grabbed me by the arm
and started pulling me outside. My boss just watched
as we left. We raced to her car and strapped in.
"What's wrong? What's the matter?", I said.
"Just trust me on this one. Please." "Ok" I said.
She drove us as fast she could through the rush of
midday traffic. The streets and freeways were as
busy as ever. We'd listen to music every now
and then, or we'd just listen to the wind blowing
past the windows. As the city fell behind us she
began to relax just a little. But whatever it was,
I could feel we weren't quite in the clear yet.
We quickly pulled over to refuel at a gas station
where she filled up the tank as well as a few extra
cans of gas that she had in the trunk of the car.
We continued relentlessly onward, further and
further east, towards the desert. Eventually, the
Sun began to fall towards the horizon. We passed
a few of the desert cities and a couple of towns
until we largely became one of the only sounds.
Finally, after hours of driving, she pulled over
to a dirt road off the highway for another half
a mile. There was house there. A little worn
but it looked fine. When she parked in front
she finally let go of a massive sigh. "We're
good for now. We're safe as we're going to
be." I didn't even want to know at this point.
"It's gonna be for the best we try to not watch
the news for at least a few days. I think it's
about to get real ugly, real quick." I just nodded.
The sky was the kind of pastel pink that was
bleeding all across the canvas landscape.
Whatever danger was there was lurking some
place far away. It was silent. Only a slight
breeze touching the dry brush. We walked
inside and closed the door.

A Quarter til 2 a.m.

Pulling up to the liquor store drunk

as you stumble out

and mingle among the

other late night customers

looking to eradicate the night.

It's the usual mix of night crawlers

hanging around making one last

purchase before they go home.


Long days at work,

relationships going nowhere,

careers stalled out,

endless unemployment,

addictions to various vices,

the emptiness of a hollowed out tree.


You grab your bottle

(or bottles, depending how bad

that day was), it's most likely

in either a black plastic bag

or a paper one, and take it into

the car for the drive home.


Killing the engine in the driveway,

keys are fumbled for as the wrong

one and eventually the right one

battles the keyhole. You push the

door open and slam it shut before

you have the chance to put on a

light switch.


In your room you put on some music

to listen to from your computer as

you begin to change into your sleep

clothes.


There is a glass from last night

sitting there on the desk top.

You empty some of the bottle into it


It goes down fast and burns a path

to the bloodstream. The senses dull

at an alarming pace.


Another glass is poured.


Then one more...


then another...


and


eventually


the darkness finds you


places you in bed and whispers


in your ear,


"Good night. I'll see you tomorrow."