whimperbangwhimper

They’re in a hotel off of an interstate, in some town that was far away and gone. The room’s small and smelled horrible, and outside in the night they heard fighting and yelling, but for only 30$ a night they couldn’t complain, they didn’t complain. Halloween is on the bed and she’s looking at the ceiling, and Blue is sitting in the chair by an open front door, smoking a cigarette while the sounds of fighting echo out, people yelling and fists hitting faces and fighting and more fighting. Eventually it ends and the fighters stagger back to their rooms all alone and lonesome. Nobody ever calls the cops here, another perk for them, another bonus these days.

“I wonder how long it’s going to take for the world to end,” Blue says, finishing his smoke and tossing it in the parking lot. He closes the door and pushes the chair inside, and sits on it staring at Halloween on the bed.

“It’s ending, it’s always been ending, just like we’re dying, we’ve always been dying.”

“But doesn’t it feel, I don’t know, like it’s going to happen soon?”

“What, you mean end it all?”

“Yeah I guess. I sometimes think that the world is suicidal, and humans were a way for it to kill itself, you know? I mean, maybe that’s our purpose in life, to put the world out of its misery.”

“If so, we’re taking a damn long time to do it.”

“Not if you’re the earth, you know? It’s been around for so much longer before we showed up. In the grand scheme of things, we’re a new arrival.”

She lays on the bed, still staring at the ceiling, her eyes have a far away and gone look, like she’s contemplating something else, something other. “The world is dying, every second, every day, this is it, you know? I don’t know how much longer we got, but this is it. The whole thing is going to go up in flames soonish. I mean, look outside, look at everything. Tornedos and fires and riots and all that shit, all that shit that’s clogging everything up. Volcanoes are going to burst, the world is going to crawl away and die. Sure, it might not be bang, it might be a whimper whimper whimper, but right now it’s whimpering and it’s been whimpering for decades.”

“Yeah, that’s about right. That is.”

“You don’t know the half of it.”

He stops for a moment, and decides not to press her, not to question what she just said.  He has a feeling that was part of the past she was trying to forget, and bringing it up now would bring it all up now, and then they wouldn’t be Blue and Halloween anymore, their pasts would come back and haunt them and devour them.

“Want to watch some tv?”

“No, that’s just a distraction.”

He nods and slide into bed next to her. “What do you want to do then?”

And she has no response, she’s just staring at the ceiling, so they lay there through the night, not talking, not moving, just staring, waiting, alone in their thoughts, trying not to think about the past or the future, trying to only think about nownownow. Eventually the sun comes up and Blue looks over and she’s finally asleep. He goes outside and revels in the new morning day, that quiet feeling he’s always loved, the being alone in the world feeling, and has another cigarette, and tries really hard not to think about time at all.

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