At some point Boris materialized, drawn to the positive vibes with his strange, predator-like way of seeking things out.
“How’s it been, man?” I asked.
“Excellent.” He cocked his head and gave an A-okay gesture, clenching together his thumb and index finger very tightly, practically pulsating, as if straining against his will to show his excellence. “I was just,” but he paused to exhale and wriggle his limbs, forcing himself to relax. “I was just goofing off with Ojas when I realized that I needed to do my own thing. Sometimes you know that you need to do you. And I know you know that, man. So I ended up walking along the water for miles – miles and miles, brotha.” Continue reading Senior Week – Chapter 12
Nathan continued laughing maniacally as Ojas crawled back into bed, promising to wake up in an hour. We returned to the living room where Phillipa and Shelly were sipping on their lattes on the same couch as before.
“Did y’all hear about Carl’s stingray incident?” Shelly asked with an ironic southern accent. “Apparently he’s in surgery now. Doctors say they’re doing all they can to keep him alive.” There was playfulness beneath her somber tone, but Nathan’s gullible frame of mind succumbed all-too easily, and his bliss transmogrified into mournful despondency. He looked pleadingly toward Shelly, hanging on her every word. Continue reading Senior Week – Chapter 10
I woke up early to vomit in the toilet for an hour. As my system cleansed itself, a strange out-of-body sensation overtook me. I was looking down upon and within myself to a chorus of faraway voices squawking sadistically at the sight of the sad primate hunched over a toilet in Mission Beach, San Diego, inexplicably alive. Back in the room everyone was asleep. It was only ten o’clock. I dug through Arnold’s backpack and gobbled up some of his weed brownie crumbs to help with the stomachache. I took a shower and found Ojas on the porch, sitting atop the trusty wicker bench and clutching his temples in a way that reeked of pure misery, not to mention the actual odor of vomit and stale vodka emanating from his person. I offered up a cigarette. Continue reading Senior Week – Chapter 9
There’s nothin’ –
nothin’ like cold beer
after long Summer days
or maybe it’s Spring still Continue reading Nothin’ Like It
I tossed and turned into the wee hours of night, squirming and sighing, praying for shut eye that wasn’t forthcoming – not in that godforsaken madhouse with a thump-thumping stereo, not with the lunatics howling till dawn. When silence finally reigned, its unexpectedness felt unnerving, as if a great massacre had taken place, leaving behind nothing except motionless bodies and a grotesque, eerie void. Continue reading Senior Week – Chapter 5
I had to keep moving, so I danced my way across the makeshift dance floor and emerged onto the apartment’s spacious balcony. To my right, a big glass table with a dozen kids playing a drinking game; on my left, Viraj, leaning against the wall with tangible swagger. Continue reading Senior Week – Chapter 4
As I smoked another cigarette, leaning over the porch and watching the passersby, it struck me that Carl and Eddy would not be returning to hear my thoughts. So it goes, I was drunk and ready to be drunker. I went in for another beer and bumped into Ojas, who was visibly more intoxicated than thirty minutes previously.
“Johnny-fucking-BOY!” he exulted, crushing a beer can underneath his foot and wildly flapping his tongue in the air, spraying globs of saliva on the bushy blonde hair of a blissfully unaware girl standing nearby. “Jesus Christ man it’s good to see you!” Continue reading Senior Week – Chapter 3