ForEverAfter
Ex-Bluelighter
The Upside of Karma
Steam drifting past dirty tiles, the smell of soap thick in the air. These deleted memories resurfacing. Fragmentary nightmares of adolescent breasts and floral wallpaper. I suck death from a cigarette, my wet fingers pressed lazily against my lips. My eyes, half open, scanning a passionless article about Southern France. Block after block of black type. Shiny magazine paper. I pretend to read, absorbing nothing. Sandalwood incense filling my lungs. Ash descending into bathwater. Flourescent lights flickering the exact frequency of hell. His fat wrinkled fingers tugging and pinching and squeezing. I turn the page.
The paint splattered window panes are thick with condensation. Vertical rivers, leading nowhere. Running. Dripping. The smell of soap and incense thick in my nostrils. Steam drifting past dirty tiles. An advertisement for an off-Broadway production. A coupon for discount air fares. My horrorscope, lying to me, promising a better life. His heavy breath. Wheezing. His fingers working their way up my ass. I turn the page.
Ash floating in bathwater. My cigarette, forgotten and extinguished. Black shapes, formerly words, on shiny magazine paper. An editorial on weight loss. I pretend to read, absorbing nothing. My eyes moving left to right. His grip tight around the shaft of my cock. Pumping mechanically like an oil rig. His knuckles pressed against my asshole, fingers wriggling around like worms in a bucket. I lower the magazine, my face blank.
He is indifferent to my indifference. I think of the women I've fucked. Fingered. Molested. I think of that distinterested expression. Like they're not even there. And I think, I deserve this. This is karma. I watch him, pleasing himself with my dick. My head is a coccoon full of dead insects. Mutants. Neither caterpillar nor butterfly. I toss the magazine across the room, breaking it's spine. It lands sprawled out on the wet floor. Vertical rivers converging into puddles around the empty pages. Steam rising. Dirty tiles. Soap. Incense.
My gaze wanders across the room. Past mounds of soggy toilet paper and piles of old clothes. Encrusted razors glued to the sink with old toothpaste. A mop, the handle covered with blood and shit. The semen stained mirror. My phallic faucet, dripping diseased water into my blocked sink. I drop my cigarette into an overflowing ahstray and pick up a pair of rusty nail scissors. Flourescent lights flickering, the frequency of hell. The pervert muttering dirty thoughts under his foul breath. Ignoring me. Talking to my cock.
I cut myself loose, digging the tiny red metal blades into my navel. Dividing myself in half. The bathwater turning red. The old man tugging and pinching and squeezing. His fist so far up my ass I can feel his wristwatch. I look down at him. His hand submerged in bloody water. Pumping. Wheezing. Dribble descending down grey stubble. Sandalwood. Soap.
I grab the rim of the bathtub with both hands and separate my torso into two parts. Lift myself up, and leap onto the floor, landing with a wet spongey sound on the tiles. I walk on the palms of my hands, trailing blood and shit across the tiles out into the hallway. My guts spilling out beneath me onto the carpet. I can hear the dull sound of water splashing as I make my way down to the letterbox. My severed intestines dripping with yesterdays jizz. Mixing with the blood and the bile. I leave it behind. This snail excrement.
My community watch me, disgusted eyes peering over fences, as I hobble my way down the street. These family men. These housewives. Whispering to each other, about the neighbourhood faggot. Making sure I bear witness to their disgust. Their dogs pissing on my fence posts. Passing birds dropping white liquid shit on my head. I return inside, retracing my excretions to the bathroom, and hoisting myself up onto the rim of the bath. The pervert still pounding away, oblivious to my absence. His arm inside me up to the elbow. His tongue rubbing back and forth across his yellow teeth. Dribble dripping down his chin. Him, wheezing, muttering dirty thoughts under his foul breath. I lower myself into the bloody water. My intestines linking back together like magnets. The top half of my body merging with the bottom. I light a cigarette and ejaculate, spilling my creamy white nectar into the blood and the shit. But he keeps going. Pumping harder and harder, squeezing every last drop out of me. His arm disappearing further inside me until he is up to his shoulder blade.
The old pervert, his hand comes up my throat. Molesting it's way past my tongue and my teeth. His wrinkled fingers, stained with blood and shit. His wedding ring. He takes the cigarette from my lips, retracting it backwards through my body and out the other end. I can feel it burning inside me, as he pulls his arm out. Finally, he looks at me. Smiling, his wet fingers pressing the cigarette against his wrinkled stubble framed lips. I watch him exhaling small clouds of white smoke. It drifts past the dirty tiles, the smell of soap thick in the air. Razor blades stuck to congealed toothpaste scum. Vertical rivers, flowing nowhere. My magazine crumpled against the floor. A rusty pair of nail scissors, dripping with blood.
ForEverAfter
