The Real Essay: A Work in Progress

lean42We pulled up to the holy ground and readied ourselves for the meet.  It had been some time since this many of us had seen fit to come together, and this time, they spoke of fresh meet and old blood returning.  The day beat against my skin warm then cool, then warm again.  The sun was up, the season of the sun’s return  was upon us.  But not the heat, just the light.  Light had come back to the desert and I stood upon the blessed dirt feasting on the little heat and warmth ir provided,  it like so many of the buffets that we have in our village.

One by one they started to arrive.  All type of conveyance, from the sporty silver muscle carr to the economical and smart.  You can tell a lot about a person from what they drive.  I knew the tall one was very orderly, the way he parked with so much space between his immaculately clean, white car and the vehicle nest to him.  I guess that is why my favorite car has always been the 1980 Dodge Aries that was my first ride into manhood.  It was missing its hubcaps and had a crack in the windshield.  It perpetually smelled of cheese.

That is when she pulled in; just far enough to let you know that she wanted to be left alone, but close enough not to give a shit.  The law had come to town, and she sported a chest tattoo and size 7 sneakers.  I hadn’t seen my friend in some time and it was good to know she had made it through the lawless sin one more day.

We huddled under the mid-day temperature in the shade of the old lean-too.  Others gathered around, some called them the Elders, some called them the teachers.  Nobody really knows from whence they came, but they have always been there.  Like Priests and Priestesses of old, they guarded the knowledge of the wise, and it was hard to get out of them.  Some folks were lucky and stayed around to get this knowledge, some were just dipshits on the roadmap of our lives.

The magic was flowing through us as we shared our stories of loss and gain, each of us owning a piece of each other’s sorrow, laughter and pain.  It isn’t easy when this many people come together, like a ka-tet of legend.  Ya kin?  But the stories flow whether we want them to or not.

The law decided to finally taker her turn, she cleared her throat and told us about a night in the recesses of the valley, a little shit bird of a place called China Town.  Her eyes hooded against the anticipation we all felt as she began her story.  It was a tale of two women, both of oriental origin, pretty common in that part of town.  One of them was named Ling Ling, and she had plans.

“You want to fuck with Ling Ling?”

That was the battle cry that broke the shadows with laughter.  You could hear the transports in the background as they whined along roads long past their use, but barely.  Not an eye was dry after we heard the tale of Ling Ling and her desire to be fucked with.  Damn it feels good to be a witch.

From behind and to our side, a sound ripped through the day, pouring over us like warm honey.  Honey laced with cinnamon, because this sound had a bight.  Just when we had thought that we had heard it all, the words that still haunt my days came forth from the Elder

“You know, Big Sean’s album drops this week”


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