Some of the members of our group go home. They probably have to work the day shift tomorrow. The rest of us go to a bar not far from the restaurant. The entrance reminding me of a strip club that we used to frequent in Portland.

A bouncer checks some of our ids, but not Musette’s or mine, which makes me feel, like, solidified in adulthood, climbing a bunch of stairs into what turns out to in fact be a huge pool house, with tons of tables. But pool not being the only game available. The place also providing a shuffleboard table, Connect Four, Battleship, and Jenga.

Musette setting up a tower to spill the tiles into her beer. Dirty tiles. Written upon with sexualphrases.  Our waitress brings us a free replacement. Dang, I like her. Such a great body. She and I are connected emotionally, that’s what I feel, getting the sense that she’s here to take care of me, beyond just tending my tab. She likes doing it. It is her desire. I sense that she’s always been in my reality, somewhere unseen. Rotating form. Usually black females. Some sort of mother than my actual mother. Soul level. High priestess.

Daniel staring at me.

I want to cut your hair, he says. Just the sides.

That’s what they all say. They always want to cut my sides.

Musette cuts it, I say.

I think that I could do a better job.

I appreciate the offer, but I’m going to have to decline.

Boredom. Boring as Daniel calls it, this place. It feels just like Portland. You’ve been here before, with her work friends from last time. We’re going home. You people are not our family. Not in the physical sense. I just met you, except possibly for you, my black server. I feel like I’ve known you for so long. That is why I deserve it – the punch in the face, the bullet in the gut. My head taken off on the sidewalk, next to my wife. It is the end. That is if I keep talking like this, back when my head or the head of my master’s was being taken to the Mausoleum of Madness. I’m not going to be devastated by your deaths. It’s time for me to move on. To enter the child. Bring it on and break the cycle. This has gotten old. And New York is as high it gets. Even Paris would be another New York at this point. Fooling myself into thinking that I couldn’t have gotten deeper were I a higher version of myself such as my home life may give me or some other portion of myself, just right there, you know feeling the warmth of the blood.

But we’re making the right choice here guys, because, as I said, I’m feeling the blood too. It is in me as well, I say. We’ve all got the same still small voice. Just passing through home. My dog with us. We’ve got a van with a TV in it. We’ll set the Playstation up when we get there. And we’d very much like to play your Wii and watch The Walking Dead on your recliners. Just a couple of kids coming home. Just passing through. Got to find the next path here, taking this little switchback. Sure do wish we had a bed. Passing dangerously close to the steel fabrication shop. Dad, I’m not trying to be the prodigal son. Please don’t punish me with a bowl of cold soup, because I know that I’m living out the bible in my life, my old childhood story.

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