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Towards the end of her shift, this waitress, let's call her Jules, finishes by cleaning the restrooms. She takes het time with the women's and after it's clear goes to the men's, locks the door and cleans it completely. She discovered while trying to fix the handle of a stubborn toilet, that if you jiggle it the right way it goes to another world, a place of knights and wizards, dragons and princesses. It is a world where she is a hero, not a waitress working for $2.13 an hour and tips, in a joint that is empty most of the night.
She can spend weeks, months, even years in this fantasy world and when she returns, she may be gone ten, twenty minutes, maybe a half hour or more. She comes back to her reality, still a waitress, and looking a little worse for wear after "cleaning" the men's restroom.
Still, I never did get to where she has been and why she has to keep going back, time and again. I left the story with the toilet and long looks when she gets as she unlocks the men's restroom door, puts away the cleaning supplies, and eventually collects her things to end her day, usually early in the morning while the sun still sleeps.
Anyways, a friend gets up to use the restroom and I say, "Have fun and come back safe!" Perhaps, my little way of reminding myself to get back to this story and the other ones I leave behind.
She can spend weeks, months, even years in this fantasy world and when she returns, she may be gone ten, twenty minutes, maybe a half hour or more. She comes back to her reality, still a waitress, and looking a little worse for wear after "cleaning" the men's restroom.
Still, I never did get to where she has been and why she has to keep going back, time and again. I left the story with the toilet and long looks when she gets as she unlocks the men's restroom door, puts away the cleaning supplies, and eventually collects her things to end her day, usually early in the morning while the sun still sleeps.
Anyways, a friend gets up to use the restroom and I say, "Have fun and come back safe!" Perhaps, my little way of reminding myself to get back to this story and the other ones I leave behind.
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white noise
white noisethese tiled floors echo
the slow footfall
the sauntering shuffle
donned by an institution
not in a hurry to get anywhere...
or maybe getting nowhere in a hurry
i can never tell.in my peripheral vision, i make note
lanky form, curly hair
a mix of ethnicity
i don't dare to guess.
intent, chocolate eyes
peering over the spectacles
of this place, and
the ones riding low on the bridge
of his nose.his path sways
as feet follow dark tiles
inlaid in light
the occasional waltz step
mingles itself into
his light-footed travel.
his destination is set
but for now, i need not know
what it is, and i step back
out of site. i won't interrupt.u...
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Tripoli - countryside cities.
Restaurants in the shade.Men in shade
With white straw hats, the sun curve
Of the day, and buzzing of motors on
Rocky cobblestone.Family visits an old man here.
A hearty dinner, the sun a shine on the glass.She says tell
us something
Like you used to.
The boys poke the ground,
Fiddle with the earth,
Before he sighs.
Sighs, speaks: Columns Contract,
The dirge splits, spokenRamparts, assailed corridors.
Degraded anarchs in the veins.
I hear Fire.
Random chaos in
The voi- voi- Void.And the entry read:
'Lasciate ogni speranza, voi ch'entrate!'
Abandon all hope, ye who en...
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Lost Man
Lost man, blind man, feeling the hand of sorrow.
Lost man, haunted man, fleeing away in horrow.
Lost man, cold man, knocking on the door.
Lost man, dead man, knocks no more.
Sometimes I'll wish friends a safe return when they go use a public restroom. I'm guessing they think it's one of my charming quirks. However, once that was all tied to a story I was working on and left a long time ago. It begins in a diner years ago, as I notice a friend has been in the restroom a long time, so my imagination takes over. I borrow a cheap plastic pen and a napkin and jot ideas for a story where a waitress finds her way to another world, by way of the diner's toilet.
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