“Alley”
Feb 26, 2020It didn’t matter anymore. I was defeated. I lay on the ground, covered in mud, my pants torn in the crotchal region, new holes torn in the knees. Bloody knees; scabs in the next couple days. Is this what it came down to? It was.
The ground was soft and dirty. My mouth tastes like the previous two hours. Small rocks stuck in the side of my face and I picked them out, examining them one by one. My cheek felt like grated cheese. I hate cheese, so I wasn’t proud of looking like it.
My phone was nowhere to be found. I had no idea where I was. I knew I was next to a dumpster in a dark alley. Where in the city, though, I was unsure. Google usually led the way home. But Google wasn’t here to save the night. Thanks for nothing, Google.
I stood, slowly, taking my time so I didn’t end up back on the ground. I was hungry. I remembered popcorn, but it seemed like decades ago. Tito’s Tacos would be nice. I wonder if I’m near Tito’s. Google?
I wasn’t going to make it out of this alley by willing it, so I headed toward the closest street as soon as my shaky legs willed it. Being reborn next to a dumpster is less than poetic. The Christians would want to hold my head under water just a tad bit longer. Fuck them. They’re not here in my time of need.
My vision is blurry. I’m glad I don’t wear glasses or it would be worse. They would surely be wherever my phone was. I can see well enough to put one foot in front of the other. I can see well enough that I’m now on Venice Boulevard. How the fuck did I get here? It’s not so much that I’m on Venice Boulevard as much as how far east on Venice I am than when I started the night. And how I don’t remember coming this far east.
Google, a little help?