10
Dragon Smoke
A pile of smoke falls like silk curtains on the hard wooden floor. A man in purple sits beside me, his star woven eyelashes and clothes melt from the heat that comes from the fireplace where energetic golden fish play tag with one another, you can hear the smacking of their fins. I stare at them. I’m at the edge of my couch, my hands dangling on my knees. My mouth wide open, hoping for one of them to stray from their game and enter.
My mesmerized eyes are hollow and too big for my skull. My skin clings to my bones, revealing my eternal hunger, I am a skeleton. My hands are my favorite feature. They’re long and bony and covered with numerous rings. Some of which I’ve bought and some of which I’ve stolen. One of my favorites, a long silver piece in the shape of a dragon curling around my finger with a blue stone as its eye, I bought it from an illegal street vendor. Besides it is another ring with a simple stone as its design, I stole it from a cheap store. I feel around the table to my right, not taking my eyes off the iridescent fire. I finally find the bowl containing my drink and bring it up to my lips, I’m still captivated by the fiery blaze. Captivated at how such a strong and wild thing can be so small and still and yet so fierce.
The burning liquor and Yakult drips down my chin. I’m practically dumping the substance on my face and I can’t gulp it down fast enough. My white Bob Marley shirt is now dirtied. I shrug. The room has filling up with more and more of the purple raspberry smoke which is coming out of the fireplace. Everything it caresses starts to melt, yet nobody notices. Only me, and still I sit silently and watch. I’m captivated. Even when the smoke reaches me and coils around my neck, like a dragon's scaly tail, I do nothing. I close my eyes, lean back and plunge into the sweet abyss. The only thing I acknowledge is the heat as my skin melts off my body and I finally become a real skeleton.