Gedion and Monore: Centurm Vertrirude: One shot

 -Gedion and Monore (first meet)Prompt 

“Please, god bless you, have a nice Christmas.” Another one passed us by, in her mink coat and channel purse she passed us by.

“Please miss, for the holiday season, spare a little change” Another passed us by 

“Please miss, for the holiday season, spare a little change?” The man with the receding hairline wearing the Brooks brothers suit, going to invest in venture cpatial, and surely set some progress of some kind back, -pass

“Please miss, for the holiday season, spare a little change?” The family of four, nuclear, fat, couldn't pull them away fast enough -pass

“Please miss, for the holiday season, spare a little change”  The teenagers wearing black lives matter crop tops and vote masks, -pass

“Please miss, for the holiday season, spare a little change” I cringed, she was being too obvious.

“Why do you always have to beg? It’s pathetic.”
“Were Homeless Gedion, its pathetic to be starving too, I was nice enough to share my Lexington Avenue spread with you, I didn't have to, I could have hogged all these guilty, white rich people all to myself, but its the season of giving so, but no, instead you gotta bring down my whole vibe.”

“You only got like 2 dollars and we have been here for two days.”

“I would have gotten more if you hadn't been such a little bitch!? Ugh get out of here, I donna wanna be friends with you anymore, its christamas the season of joy, you are like…being the grinch right now!! YOUR THE GRINCH, YOUR TRYING TO RUIN CHRISTMAS FOR ME, GET OUT OF OUR HOME, GET OUT!!” And so yet again, I was kicked out, but as I stood at the exit to the subway station, I coudlnt help but stare back at Lulu inmisplaced pity, I have to admit, I would miss her. I had grown quite attached to her, there was a haunting feeling that blew over me with the cold of teh outside street above, as I watched her revert back to a child before my eyes. 

She reached into her stolen whole foods shopping cart to pull out a pack of gum, and cigarettes, chewing one then smoking the other rappdilky to calm down, before rocking back n forth in her little pile of waighten blankets, towels, dirty mats and other trash she had collected, for comfort all she owned and carried. I looked at her, in her christmas PJs she wore all year round, her stalking she wore as a hat, the egg nog in her baby bottle next to the endless assortment of trinkets, kitsch and kindcade, rocking horses, rodoophs, red roses, ornaments, orbs, globes, crosses, and angels,some photo albums of childhoods not her own all shiny, halls decked, our hands blue from the cold, green from all the christmas trees we tried to steal, her brown skin and pin sheeks covered in crumbs from all the gingerbread, her teeth half gone, and her pretty kotted hair covered in glitter, and christmas beads, as she looked down, at her favriote christmas book, and old chirldrens book the kind that sings carrols in that old timey choir voice, when you open it to a new page, she just kept opening it up to a page, with some smal child angels, on the page, “harch the angels” played form that page, over and over, and for the first time, I saw her smile, and laugh, as she just kept turning that page, and playing that song, over and over. 

I heard it fade into the distince as I walked out of the subway like the warm glow of some distinct, uncanny nistglia in my rear view, fading fertehr and fetehr away as I reentered the harsh New York tundra. My hands were cold as ice, so cold they became numb as my gloves fell away, I wondered the streets as night fell, we were ignored, reduced to dirt, my mind fell so far away I couldnt remember who I was, or what I was, or why, even my pefect fanaisies I didnt have teh strangth to find or induegle, no music to escape to, no lovers or land to roll arrond in or perfect eyes to stare in, just the hellish dark city scape, the hell forcing us to dirt, ro rats to suffer withiut life alone, untill it is dragged out from underneath us, I had never done so but I prayed for death in those days, I had lost my medication lost my sense of self, of time, I had starved, and stumbled into traffic, into parks where I wasnt wanted, considered getting arrested on perpouse, and proably would soon anyway, considered turning myself in for what happed in the fire, considered swallowing my pride and begging Lysander to take me back and take me in, for the first time, nervously manicly, truly, truly, truly without vaiel or hesitation, I dsired death, for what was gon the other side no matetr how mad -was better tgen this, whatevr it was, it was betetr then this, anything at all was better then another second of this, I knew I knew, I knew lying in the freezing cold in harlem, under the stars, another peice of dirt in the the streets they were voting to clean up,halry any clothes left, harldy any mind left, not turned to drugs or selling msyelf of any of the hertical, tyepcal vices they epxetct of me, but, all I have left now, Is my imgnsation and I imagination the world after this, as where I used to imagination in my hoarder hole, where I was filled with my trash, my beautiful beds, and piles and piles of books and beautiful, beautiful souls. Then in my save cave, I would go to it no LSD, no phsdocis , no trip to the otherside hippie-dippie nonsense, just pure will, just pure imagination, I’d say if I ever loose everything I’d just stay here forever until life gets better again.

So now, its cold, so cold, I can hardly feel my body, people I can hear them they want to hurt me, the police are telling the guys down the street to move off the block or their done, and im next, the snow is coming down, its now sleet, and slush, im lying in a puddle no mat or prodtction, under my shorts so wet on my skin the rash is turning to infection, so so, wet I never shower but its always so wet and cold, and dirty and polluted and gross and full of slime, and smells like drugs, and sex and pepoles whole lives on teh street and so do I-and every day is another reason to never wake up, another new horrifying thing,on the street in my body, a new level of pain, the weather, thing I cant afford, that they dont understand they want me dead, they are next and they never let me just have a moments peace, evrywhere has spikes they dont jsut let you sit anymore, it's not safe anymore, but the shelters are also not safe, you always have to be awake and there’s no one who understands no one who is can see your soul, who you can relay not just to service but to, love and get through the world, we are on the edges of teh world, no one wants to think, or touch, or talk to us, anymore, the world is just too cold. 

so fantasy is all we have, all I have, its all ive ever had

Its called Amarta, Agrthga, the name comes to me in a dream, its so real, the recurring dream, I have, every night of the place that I wish I was, where I can go, when teh world gets to cold, witch is more and more these days; Every night in my dreams, I go there…but lately as life gets more and more unlibale, my dreams of Agathra, only get more alive. 

I open my eyes, im back in Agrtha, at last. The massive spherical skies, where grpavity is what you want it to be, a cosmic rainbow sky, with beings of  impossible design floating in its wake creating, their own shape, and teh whole druids council, decdiding the future for us all, gives me hope, everything will be ok, and finally go its way. 

 I ride the dreamshark through the Gocean, to my floating islands, I am guided by a new light, a new sesnsion I dont recognize, I follow it, the lights are pink, then blue then read, leading me the top of the floating island, there was somone new here,somone I didnt reconize.