"The Boy Detective Fails" by Joe Meno

In our town—our town of shadows, our town of mystery—it seems our buildings have, without reason, begun to disappear completely. Still full of their loyal inhabitants, the buildings and the people all disintegrate soundlessly. The air has been hard to breathe, full of regret and the glassy voices of the unsurprised dead. Our commuters have begun carrying photographs of their loved ones with them to work. On the bus, we look at each other, pictures of our sad wives and doubtful children huddled close to our chests, quietly imagining the silent elaborations of our own deaths. We are disappointed coming home that evening because the many photos betray our cowardice: We live in a town that is disappearing, and worse, like the buildings, our hope is gone and we are no longer surprised by anything.

Monday, June 22, 2009

The Boy Scholastic Refuses To Sleep

It's like admitting that this is all that today was, that it's over and that there's nothing more left to make it something. It's the death of the sky, the end of being. It is a realization of his struggle with the anxiety of death; for him, staying up all night is to say, "I decide when this day ends, and that's not tomorrow." Staying awake means that you never really lose anything. Going to sleep means putting faith in the belief that, when your eyes open, everything you love will still be there. Some days it isn't. And some days it isn't. As of late, he can't stand to lose anything more.

I was going to write something nice, something about the fallen beauty of pre-destination. But sometimes, writing these little intros gets to me.

I'm going to have a smoke.
Posted by at
Labels: , , ,

No comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)