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Read the Blog in full

Read the Blog in full

Monday, October 7, 2013

8 Balls and the House on Dana Part 17

Cindy moves into the apartment with Kim and me. Kim and I now share what used to be her bedroom and Cindy has taken over what used to be my bedroom. 

Neither rooms have a door attached to them, so we have attached bed sheets to the inside frame to hang down and cover the opening. We joke that it’s very exotic, sort of like living in a tent. The down side is that a bed sheet can’t keep various things out. This would include, cats, music and the sounds of your roommates voices, you always know what is going on in the apartment.

All of us are home when it begins to rain. We are all sitting on what’s left of our crappy sofa in the living room, staring into space. We all stop when we hear the sound of thunder and the “tick, tick” sound of rain hitting glass. We look at each other and I immediately walk into the kitchen to look out the window. Our next-door neighbors still have not changed their driveway filler from the little black stones to a tar pavement as promised. The landlord allegedly spoke with them and allegedly worked out some deal, but nothing seems to have changed. The landlord probably worked it out over a “ten year” plan.

The sky darkens and the clouds open up. The rain begins to fall. From my window view, I can see it once again just hitting the little black stones and bouncing off. Just like last time the water begins to rush over and around the little black stones and suddenly there is a river of water heading right for the window.

“Holy Fuck!” I scream as Cindy and Kim come running into the kitchen. The water true to form hits the well and starts to splash and jump against the window again. Quickly the level in the well begins to rise. “Paper Towels!” “Paper Towels!” I scream as if I was a Captain ordering a submarine and it’s crew to submerge.

We all jump into action. Cindy runs through the house and starts trying to get everything off the floor, Kim grabs the mop and a roll of paper towels and I run to the bathroom, grab towels and begin to shove them around the frame of the window. Within moments the bottom of the glass window in the kitchen explodes and the water pours into our house.

It is all out chaos as we back away and join Cindy in getting everything to higher ground, “Screw the paper towels!” Kim yells and throws them into the rapid moving water. The water is just as fast moving, as it was the first time as it spills out of the bottom of the window, hits the kitchen floor and begins to run for the rest of the house. Everyone is screaming as the cat’s watch from the top of the stove.

As the water rushes past the boiler it again blows out the flame. The apartment hasn’t dried from the first attack and most of our possessions and the clothes that retained their musty smell have all gone out to the curb for the garbage men a week ago. We have little to nothing left but the rain has returned to claim whatever is can find.

The water runs across the living room, leaks into the bedrooms, splashes into the bathroom. It picks up the litter box on its way, spinning it into the wall. At least this time I know how this is going to end. Kim and Cindy are screaming but their voices become mixed with the sound of the water.

I’m done. I’m tired, exhausted and my relationship with Kim is over. Moving Cindy in was so Kim could live with a steady, sane person. I’m a wreck. I’m a mess and I’m about to blow out of frustration. I grab the mop by the handle, stomp into the kitchen and begin to smash out all the windows in the apartment.

Kim and Cindy don’t know what to do. Tears are streaming down my face. I have nothing. I am nothing. There is nothing to live for.
I can hear myself screaming as the broom punches holes in the glass.

To be continued…

Geoffrey Doig-Marx holds all written and electronic rights to his writing "A Day in the Life". It can not be reprinted in part or whole without his written consent.

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