A Good Mattress

"It's gotten to be that I just pick the one with A Good Mattress," He said.

"Why is that?" She asked.

"Well, mostly because I live in a Hilton and sleep every night on Heavenly Beds and I tend to wake up happy. To be honest, I really just need my sleep sometimes. I mean, the World can be a tiring place to be - and there's nothing that kills a Relationship or a Good Day quicker than crappy pillows and a hard mattress. It just takes the joy out of anything that precedes falling asleep," He said.

"That's kinda shallow!" She retorted.

"Shallow? Oh, I don't think it's a coincidence that 75% of people get divorced or separated and, coincidentally, 75% of couples don't have a Good Mattress, do you? I really think there's a direct correlation between a couple who can agree on what a Good Mattress is and a couple's ability to "Get" each other" He said.

"You're weird." She said.

"You clearly don't have a Good Mattress" He said.

Good Morning

As He lay there with him in that early morning hour, He marveled at how, through all these years, they still fit together. He felt blessed that his little ones would still sneak into his bed some mornings to snuggle and, then, sleep some more.

And as He laid there with him, listening to his son's breathing, He held off the Hundred Things To Do (for at least a few more moments) and remembered Why He did any of those Things. And He closed his eyes and listened to his son inhale and exhale, holding onto that Time as tightly as his son snuggled against his arm. And He thought, then, that this was a Good Morning, that there was no better way to start a Day, and maybe Life was simply about holding him close to his heart - for as long as He could.

Never to Return

My words are my lovers
Spread across so many miles
So hard to find
And harder to keep
Once spoken
Kiss my lips, sweet words,
And wake my soul
from sleep.

My words are my lovers
Spread across so many moments
So hard to hold
And harder to release
Once found
Kiss my lips, sweet words,
And give my soul
some peace.

My words are my lovers
Stolen by Circumstance and Time
So hard to ever know
And harder to feel
Once remembered
Kiss my lips, sweet words,
As you slip into That Place
Where Lovers and Lost Words flee,
Never to Return.


| Edmund Vazquez | Never to Return | © May 27th, 2007 |

Bar of Soap In a Sock

"Wow. That is...wow. I like your writing," She said. She continued, "It is pretty intense."

"It is?" He asked, paused, and said: "I seriously write, I think, to keep from going crazy. For some reason, if i put it out here, online in some great vacuum of Nothing, I think it restores Balance in My Universe. In this Way, I'm only a channel for The Story, and not The Story itself."

"Wow.. I honestly would tell you if I thought it was Crap. But, It hits you in the face like a Bar of Soap in a Sock," She replied.

"Good... Then It is Real" He said. "Because Real Things hit you like that, I think."

And before She could continue, he blurted, "Hey, thank you. I'm honored that you like it. To be honest, Not Everyone can appreciate my writing. It doesn't resonate with everyone - like good writing should. Not Everyone likes it."

"Well, They are Horse Shit, then" She retorted, suddenly, and with little warning.

Stunned, He wasn't quite sure what to say.

Then, He understood what She was telling him. Suddenly, his Words weren't so hard to find.

"Spoken like a true Bar of Soap in a Sock" He said.

And he walked away rubbing his head a bit - knowing what it was like to get hit with something Real.

Shopping

"The Men I Care About always leave..." She started, paused, and then continued, "...We get close, then they ask me to marry them, and then they leave."

A sad, knowing smile crept across his face as He asked her: "Would you marry me?"

"You are different than all The Rest. I love you. Well, I love spending time with you. Yes, I would marry you, totally. I just can't tell you when I would marry you. Actually, I'm not sure if I could tell you in the next year if I would marry you or when. I mean, that's a lot of pressure, thinking about marriage and all. And a lot of compromise would be involved. And I'm not sure you can compromise as much as I can compromise. And this is all Very Important, but I've been walking around this store for a while now, talking to you on the phone, and I really need to get back to my Shopping."

"That's cool. It's time for me to go, anyways" He said. He hung up.

And She continued her Shopping.

Little Bit of Hope

"I'm having a Bad Day," she said..."So tell me Something Good, I want to hear Something Good."

He paused, looked a bit puzzled, and replied: "Well, I try to think of Something Good when I wake up every morning. Here's what I thought when I woke up today:

'Luckily, I woke up this morning. That's always a Good Thing. Also, it looks like the sun is gonna shine for a bit today. That's a Good Thing. And the Best Thing is that I will probably get the rest of the Day to make my Life whatever I want it to be."

"Thanks" she said, as a smile grew on her lips... "You're always Good for a Little Bit of Hope."

Greatness

I watched the man who sat at the bar in his pressed white dress shirt. I watched him watching his Red Sox give up a 4 run lead in the 8th - saying nothing to no one.

Beer after beer, he looked into his pint glass intently, as that Red Sox lead disappeared. There had to be a way to stop the bleeding, and maybe it was in that pint glass.

He imagined that there were Sea Monkeys copulating in in that last lager, madly. Every few minutes their world would quake and tip - and their oceans were draining with each sip that the God of the Pint Glass took from their World. Those Sea Monkeys in the beer knew The End was Near. Knowing their world was ending, those Beer Monkeys had some crazy sex in that pint glass. After all, a God that took their Hopes away surely wouldn't judge them for having too much sex. Then, with only a few sips remaining in that glass and all the Beer Monkeys having cramped End of the World Sex, the man looked up at me from his imaginings and the last of his lager in his pint glass.

And there was an uncomfortable silence.

I admit that I felt dirty watching him imagine such things with Sea Monkeys and beer.

Besides, those female Beer Monkeys were the only females in this bar.

Then, he stood up, wobbled a bit, and turned to me and said: "Greatness is determined more by how you finish than how you start."

Turning back, he faced his beer and drank his last sip of Samual Adams, set the empty pint glass on the bar and turned to me again, smiled, and continued:

"... and I finished that beer strong."

The God of the Pint Glass had spoken.

I admit that I smiled with him. Suddenly, I wasn't at all worried about the Beer Monkeys that had moved on to the Next Place.

As he walked away, I hoped he would find his way back to his hotel room safely. After all, there is always Tomorrow - and the Sox were playing the Royals - and most anyone can finish strong on Some Days.