So what’s it like to have Crypto?” She asked it across his chest.
He considered her for a moment, chestnut
hair fanned out over his stomach…cherry cheeks; even in the dark…he blew out
the smoke from his joint and considered which version to give her. He knew she could hear his stomach issuing
the standard cacophony… hence the joint…he also knew like most people, she
wanted to know if she could catch it.
There was an awkwardly long pause
as he hit the joint again and held it, bearing through cramps that once made
him wince…now he just gritted his teeth and flared his nostrils …when it was over he blew out the pale
green haze as the ever present Cape Cod breeze vanished it... whisking it out with
the gauzy white curtains…he mused about not needing screens before he answered
her. Her uncomfortable shifting stirring
an awareness in his brain of a once long ago asked question…what was it again…?...oh
yeah, can she catch the Crypto…
He launched into the standard
response….”it’s like Migraines crossed with Malaria….add Influenza and food
poisoning….to starving to death…and I actually do mean that literally…most
people die from this due to malnutrition is how it was explained to us when
they told us.”
Well damn…there it was, the Meade
had gotten to his tongue again…he already knew the next question…who was ‘Us’? Now what?
To lie or not to lie?
His stomach started its unholy
symphonics again and he subconsciously brought the joint to his lips…
The light at this hour was so
beautiful…BMNT...the most wonderful time of the day until Dusk!
…his shaking rib cage stirred him
back from remembering the glory of the Sunrise from her bed…that East facing
set of windows…Blessed Be the architect of this house he said in his mind…more
shaking…she was being playful now, he knew what that meant…he hit the joint
another three times with its accompanying pauses before he answered her.
He still hadn’t figured out whether
to lie.
