Captive

An alleyway stood beside a retail store once, Jim walked toward a glass box. It encased cigarette packs, a Gatorade, a Rolling Stone magazine all set against an Ocean’s Twelve poster backdrop that embraced the back of the box. Jim brought it, and carried on.

As his feet reached curves and corners of market squares, the street came to an end. It was followed by a bridge that led to another street, by this point he felt tired. It was the finale of his enthusiasm or so it seemed. Advertisements wavered on billboards about perfumes, and festivals. Pick-up trucks drove by with all their trashy glory bound to the back. A taxi hammered in from nowhere and escorted him home, the driver twisted his head, cracked his knuckles, crossed his legs, and somehow matched the movements of his vehicle.

Jim placed the box of December on the high shelf, amid stacks of birthday cards that he didn’t give, or maybe he received them, among his prized vinyl records and a lavender scented candle that glowed all it slight in yesterday’s dark, now flickered with a tiny flame on its miniature wick and melted body.

“Another year” he admired, knocking his body down to floor.

Published by

Watt

It's all a matter of rust and shine, to serve a distinction between to have and to have not.

24 thoughts on “Captive”

  1. Oh wow Watt. By the middle of the second paragraph I started dying and going to heaven. “Pick-up trucks drove by with all their trashy glory bound to the back” — so so good. And all the rest, right through the taxi driver, box of December to the end, with a knock-out finish. Just love it.

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      1. Oh! Down the rabbit hole we go…a dreamer dreaming a dream awoke to find himself fast asleep on a lotus flower. So Lord Shiva gave him a pinch and said, “who is that says ‘I dreamt’ while I slept”. Find that one and then see if you still have the question…😉

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  7. I’m so excited to see Jim reappear with his take on December. I felt like I had connected with an old friend. I loved the first two paragraphs, that set the scene for his reflections, but I cannot say how much I loved the ending

    “Jim placed the box of December on the high shelf, amid stacks of birthday cards….”
    and the lavender candle
    “that glowed all it slight in yesterday’s dark, now flickered with a tiny flame on its miniature wick and melted body.”

    Such perfect images for the passing by and lamenting of time.

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