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deresolution: an urban parable

the parable

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I miss this.

What are you talking about?

Here.  Now. It's different.

Different how?

It's different like it used to be.

 



 night

 

 

    Renzo is lying naked in bed, the glaze quickly fading to a languid heaviness in his limbs. The beat of his heart is still abnormally fast, but he tries to ignore what it means by breathing deeply, closing his eyes, and lying as still as possible.  He hopes to induce sleep by telling himself that he has to be tired.

    The Hollywood Safe House was a name he and Katie had coined for his current apartment, an unremarkable one bedroom bachelor pad  located two blocks off the Strip. After he had moved out of his studio in Venice, the Safe House had become convenient midtown a refuge, a place for select members of the crew to hibernate after hitting the eastside clubs.

    Katie's duct tape incident was legendary in the canon of their friendship, a definitive occurence that had taken place at the end of one particularly long night.  Renzo and Katie had oozed in somewhere around dawn, each riding out the end of a few pills and in sore need of a beer and a pile of wool blankets. A detectable glow had already appeared on the eastern horizon as they were driving home.  Immediately after entering his apartment, Katie had duct taped garbage bags over all of the visible windows, and then had commenced a ritualistic lighting of scented candles around the edges of the room. Throughout the strange ceremony she had been wearing nothing but one of his old sweatshirts and a pair of white panties, strangely unconscientious of the unspoken physical boundaries that had always existed between them.

    It's not daytime yet, she said, testing the strength of the tape on the nearest window.

    If you say so, he replied.

    Are you listening to me? I can't sleep unless you tell me it's still night.

    Ok, he said, and he had done so.

    The memory has a strange resonance, an artistic kind of melancholy one expects to see in certain kinds of films.

    Renzo rolls over, suddenly aware that he is clenching his teeth and does his best to stop it. The sky outside the window might still be of the deepest night, but he knows dawn is fast approaching. Beats of sweat have collected on his forehead. It will be hours before he is able to fall asleep.

 

 deresolution: an urban parable (copyright 2006)



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