Delerium

I remain still as a statue and listen with an open mind and a dead heart. My mouth is dry and I can hear the approaching march... the inevitable advance of a million pin-prick wasp stings as the need to shoot-up begins to spread throughout my body.

The old man pulls an infinite slow-drag from his pipe, holds the smoke in his lungs as he stares upward at the night sky with haunted eyes, then exhales two long streams through his nose. His attention remains fixed on a distant heavenly object known only unto him as around us crickets chirp. His brows squint as though he is in engaged in thoughtful concentration - or cumbersome pain. His pupils swell and then shrink to the size of shimmering diamonds. I try to remain here in the moment but it's difficult. The old man's gnarled body is steadily disappearing as though I am being whisked away on a train at a great velocity and there he remains standing alone at the end of a barren tunnel. And the world is sleeping. A light breeze rustles the asphodel creating a swirling faux snowstorm of tiny white petals. Minutes turn into seconds as each moment is crystallized... morphing reality into dream.

Listening. Waiting.

Tiny beads of sweat begin to form on my brow. My blood rages with piercing fire and my veins throb for more junk. I’m in full-fledged fiend mode now. My smarting eyes are starting to tear but I continue to remain still. Behind my back my hands continue to clench and unclench keeping time with the rhythm of my jaw.

He slowly turns and meets my anxious, expectant stare.

“ So you do not fear death?”

I pause, careful to choose the correct words. “ I am already dead sir. I have no fears... except one.”

I’m stuck in his gaze, under his spell, as a struggling hare is trapped in a hunter’s snare. My blood is boiling and I blink several times to fight back tears. I work to remain in this realm but I’m slowly phasing in and out. I look down and my toes are shimmering mirages.

“ You are afraid she will forget?”

“ No. I am afraid she will walk past me never once looking up, and there I will be, in limbo, and my existence will have meant absolutely nothing.”

The old man looks away, snickers for a moment as though amused at a private joke. “ Right now your existence does in fact mean nothing. You are but a drop in the comprehensive ocean of men’s dealings... and you are a miserable fool.”

I swallow hard and with a defiant hiss I whisper:

“ Then so be it... this path I have chosen I will stumble.”