33rd Floor, Six windows from the Right

On the 33rd Floor, Six windows from the right stood a man. A man with tall wavy black hair, all coiffed up in a hairdo quite similar to that kid who does superman in smallville. The man was quite tall, almost filling the entire length of the panoramic floor to ceiling windowpane. Dressed in a black pants and a crisp white shirt with the first two buttons unbuttoned, you can tell hes back from a glamorous night. He stood by the window, perching his right forearm on the pane, The left one balled up into a fist and resting on his waist. You could tell from his face that he was in a deep state of pondering, not thinking, but pondering. There's a difference you see, Well according to him, cause that is what he always told anyone who would dare intrude on his thoughts.

For Thinking, is you recollecting a particular event, assessing it or your performance, or someone elses performance in reaction, the effect of it, and then an expected course of action about it if its not yet settled. You are in control, and mentally occupied by a particular and specific, maybe even pending event.

Pondering, on the other hand..is Wandering ( that is probably why they rhyme) into the fields of your mind, thinking about whatever your conscious throws up to you. You arent in control, you arent thinking of something in specific, and hell you arent determined on conjuring up some sort of resolve.

Anyways, now back to that man at the window on the 33rd floor, sixth window from the right. He's a doctor. a heart surgeon actually. not exactly the most famous but slowly on his way there. Which in itself is quite an accomplishment for his age. His pondering was interrupted by a knock on the door. It was one of those knocks that are followed by an opening door, they merely inform you of someone coming in rather than requesting your permission. An Elizabeth Shue type walked into the room dressed in home comfy clothes walked in. She wore grey sweatpants and a wool-like V neck Cardigan that fell at the right shoulder. If it was hers then she probably lost copious amounts of weight if the label read "Tight Fit". She walked into the room Cautiously yet warmly...maybe even sympathetic, but you can tell it wasnt her fault.

"So how was it?" She asked
He was open to answering, but was interrupted by the sound of a vibrating phone on the plush Duvet covering the bed. It was the Hospital calling. Its probably an emergency. Frustrated, he picks the phone up, slips it into his pocket and leaves.

On his drive over to the Hospital, in his Sporty Volvo..he had flashbacks, images of Elizabeth Shue allowing herself to sit on the Bed, and nestling her hands in her lap, showing her apparent attentiveness. How he should've looked there , when all he can look at and ponder about is why is a cable repairman on the building across working on a rooftop at 1am in the morning dressed in a white gown.."Probably some lunatic" he thought..
While parking in the Hospital's lot, he was about to run over a hobo while reversing into his reserved parking spot. He cursed at him and at his likes, thinking as to why dont they just get a job, or better yet commit suicide.

He walks into the Hospital Hallway, so full of himself. He is in his element, after years of studying and literally looking into the insides of people, so why shouldnt he be full of him self. He has achieved what so many have yearned for and failed. He cures people, gives them second chances in life..helps them fight something looming to take away their life, and are helpless..he makes miracles, he is divine.
He knows that thinking like that is downright wrong, but he just cant help it..plus, he is entitled,or if someone were to be allowed to think in this manner, it ought to be him. A little voice inside of him on the other hand tells him he will be punished for his thoughts, especially if he does act upon them, even if subtly. He fears that if God shows him who really is divine, he wont be able to handle it. He shelfs the thought in his head, right between "where to take Elizabeth Shue this Christmas" and " What was the effect of Exenetides on the gastro-intestinal centers of the CNS". He is prepped by his medical team on the patient he has to operate on. He asks very short questions the answers of which are shot back to him by a woman in green scrubs taking her job way to seriously and in a tone similar to a National Security Advisor briefing the president about a Nuclear Crisis. He finally walks through the door of the operating room which he secretly nicknamed the pearly gates.. for whomever is rolled into here on a stretcher is guaranteed heaven by his mere touch...
nasty thoughts, nasty thoughts...i should shelf them he thought...

With "La Donna E Mobile" booming out of a small boom box in the corner, he stands elbows out.. palms facing in at the height of his chest, waiting to be fitted with latex. pulls up the mint flavored mouth guard and works his magic.

the gloves were all bloodied up, scalpel in hand , with the patient gutted open like a fish, he was whistling to the tune and enjoying his handiwork.. he notices peculiar movement from the corner of his eye, he imagined the patients head move. he pauses...checks the ECG, heart rate stable and normal for someone under anaesthetic.
Just as he was about to put the scalpel to the patients Aorta, he hears a groan...
"did someone just groan?"
"No doctor".
The scalpel makes contact with the artery..he hears a chuckle..followed by a very eerie.."Stop..that tickles"
He just Jolted...and the scalpel falls out of his hand into the patient's insides..
"Shit!"
The medical team stares at the Doctor in awe, they are in the presence of legend...how can he slip up like that.. the lady with the Natsec tone tries to assure himself by wondering how much stress he must be under and asks him, "Doctor, are you tired?"
One of the Junior residents holds a flash pen and is cautiously looking for the scalpel inside the patient while the Doctor pauses and collects his cool. He closes his eyes only to see a face.. A white, pale wrinkled face with a sombre stare. its the patients face...
"Have we met before?" asks the doctor
"yes..a few hours ago"
"you were at the Gala Dinner?"
"No later.."
He just realized that he is having a mental conversation with a patient he is currently operating on, he really is loosing it..
"Doctor we are loosing him!!"
The Doctor snaps out of it.. and issues a salvo of orders ranging from extra adrenaline dosage to jump start the soon to be carcass on the operating table, and to start up the refiblirators to give him a charge.
the Natsec Resident interrupts the Doctor, objecting to the order, telling him that the patient has been comatose for a few weeks, revival is impossible.
"how? he said he was just with me.."
"DOCTOR!"
- flatline-

The eerie humming beep of the ECG always did haunt him...it is a bell that tolls when he fails......
he snaps the latex glove off his hand, and tosses it into the patients gut as if he were a wastebasket. Walks away..semi nauseous, and utterly dazed by what happened to him in there, and how he lost it.
trying to make sense of it all he walks into the elevator in his now bloodied scrubs..forgetting to change..
he presses the button for the ground floor.
Elevator doors close...
Elevator descends..
lights out...
Elevator stops between floors..
the lights flicker back again but dimmer than before...but keep flickering in a strobe light kind of effect. he sees the patient...standing next to him, smiling..with his gut opened up yet nothing falling out..the patient reaches into his chest cavity, starts moving things around and pulls out from his insides a bloodied glove and scalpel and tosses them at the Doctor's feet.
"I think these belong to you.."
The Doctor, fear stricken and close to a heart attack just stares..
"Why are you doing this to me" yells the Doctor
"Im not doing anything to you..You'd be silly to imagine the world revolves around you..oh well, what do you expect from a Nimrod like you...but while we're at it, thanks for the lovely job..my wife will love it im sure.."
And just while he was about to walk off..The Doctor stops him...
"Wait!....where did i see you before..?" inquired the Doctor.
" I was up there on that building...i saw you in the window pondering...33rd Floor, 6 windows from the Right.."

Reign on Me

He looked alot like Stuart Townsend, but a far more exhausted version. He sat in the corner of the room. The room was padded with worn out greenish brown wallpaper that even looked too tacky the decade it was rolled on. It was tattered and torn to form a makeshift collage between it and the wall it is supposed to blanket.

The faucet in the bathroom was dripping. So was the drool in the corner of his mouth.

He just sat there, in an upright fetal position chin resting on his knees, and his arms hugging his calves..

With his cold blatant stare glaring outside the window...the chaotic view of the street from the fourth floor wasnt all that flattering. he didnt budge an inch when the tram passed by the cheap hotel. You would think he was catatonic. but something about his eyes tells u he has no problem moving and this state is merely induced by choice. The look of Despair on his face was unmatched.

The black telephone set on the bedside table rang. its headset shook from the vibration induced by the ringing bell. it just kept ringing, he didnt budge.

Ten minutes later, someone is knocking on the door persistently.

A muffled voice came from behind the wooden door.

"Mr. Riddick are you okay?"

"Mr. Riddick please open the door"

Finally, he budges..he lets out an booming growl, and leaps from his crouching position to the emergency stairwell right out of the window, and slowly descends to the street. A few minutes of walking mechanically down the street , menacing at every onlooker. He walks into a club entrance called "Cesspool 8" , the bouncer with a deep commanding town asks him for a reservation. He just stares at him expecting the bouncer to understand he doesnt have one.

The Bouncer examines Riddick one more time to see if he can let him in, the guy looks like he could use some fun...is he a threat to the crowd? hmm... well only if provoked....the bouncer thought, but he stinks, smells like he hasnt showered in weeks. The shirt is drabby, sneakers...sorry dude, wish i could help...managements orders.

"Sorry sir, you cant come in without a reservation"

"I could really use a drink...."

The bouncer sympathizes with him,

"Theres a bar a few blocks down, ask for Sid...tell him Hank sent you."

Riddick heads towards the general direction of the Bar. he passes by the alley behind Cesspool 8. he sees something ruffling in the darkness. As he approaches he can smell the scent of two people in heat. They barely notice him, they are too preoccupied with what they were doing. With the girl cornered up on the wall by the man, Kissing wildly, she couldnt have the chance to warn the man with what peril was looming behind him.

In less than a second, the mans hand that was leaning on a wooden plank for support is struck dead in its center with a blade, you can hear the blade finally striking the wood after it penetrated the entire depth of his hand.

He screams in Pain. The Pain makes him buckle to the floor. The Girl is paralyzed in fear.

a raspy male voice sings in his head "Ohh Mary...Mary, it doesnt show but i can tell that you're so scared!"

He stares at the Girl...tries to comfort her..

"His name!"

"Howie, Howie Meyers"

The man on the floor is pleading for someone to get the knife out of his hand. Riddick twists it. the man passes out from the pain.

" Give me your ID",

she complies..."Now i know where you live...you say anything, i will come for you..now go home.."

He takes Howie's clothes, and knocks on the alleyway entrance..

the peephole slides back...he sees a set of black eyes.

"Howie Meyers" he days

The Slide goes back to its original position. a few seconds later, metal clanking and the door opens. he walks in and is hospitably gestured to come in and enjoy his stay by the owner of the black eyes. The Club is Eerily inviting, with its black marble floors, and green luminecent tubes turn every crack into something out of a science fiction movie, the lighting although quite neopunkish is far from distracting. theres a rail..as he approaches he can tell he will like what he sees. He walks closer to the rail..the music raging in his ears, thumping at his heart..moving all his internal organs,

Dum

Dum

Dum...

"Pause"

"He can see the people!"

Dadududududududududududududududm

"Enter the melody"...

Riddick's state far surpasses Euphoria, with his new clothes and new identity, hes transformed himself into another man. He owns, the Dancefloor, the people on it, The DJ...everyone. The Music has given him that power, for he who enjoys the music the most, and allows it to touch his soul is the most powerful of all of them. He modeslty approaches the bar to congregate with his slaves. a pretty one notices him and his loud velvety red shirt and italian seam black trousers.

"Kate.."

"Howie.."

Back in the Hotel room, everything is Dark, not how he left it at all. He left all the lights open and the TV on, now its pitch black. the bed is made, the faucet isnt dripping anymore, it actually smells fresh. The Door is swung open violently to the extent it nearly rips off of its hinges. A man carrying a woman perched up on his chest fumble around the neighbouring walls, chuckling..and she is squealing mid chuckles. They land on the bed. As he begins to undress her, she turns on the lamp.

He Stops.

Runs to the corner and sits just like how we first met him.

She goes to sit next to him, ruffles his hair and asks him what is wrong.

"Shes gone..." he said..

"who?"

"Cheryl.."

"Cheryl who..?"

he looks at her all wide eyed and angry... and yells "You' arent Cheryl!"

"Man you got issues, i am outta here.."

As she rises up to leave, he slits her heels with his blade, first they rip through her mesh stockings, then the skin.....then the artery, hes messy...he ended up with blood specks on his nose.

"You Freak!" She shrieked while she tried to grab onto anything for dear life.

He observed what he carved up out of her after he was finished. like a craftsman finally assessing his handiwork, like an artist admiring his finally finished portrait. he felt power, followed by doubt,

Remorse,

Pain.....

He remembered why he does that.

He misses Cheryl.

Cheryl used to light up his life, the source of his livelihood , she'd make the world beautiful. her power to solve any of his problems with a mere smile. She was everything to him, baby, girl, woman, teacher, even mother sometimes. he realized he had never lived before he met her.

What surprised him is, the first time he whispered i love you into someones ear was in a girl called Cheryl...not her , but another Cheryl, when he was a young boy.

The first time he had a car accident , was with a girl named Cheryl as well.

His most recent Car accident , was with Cheryl.

Only he survived.

fifteen minutes later, his reminicing session was interrupted by violent knocking on the door.

"Mr. Meyers, we heard screaming is everyone in there okay?"

"Mr. Meyers, please open the door".

- Thanks to Marilyn Manson for the lyric and the general feel of the post, And thanks to the real Cheryl, who should know she has the power to do that-

The Legend of the Man in The Long Black Coat and Gailee Zucchini

It sort of started like this:-

On a Friday afternoon, a Man in a long black coat walks into their dreary town. He seems to have crossed quite a distance, as he has gathered up different layers of dust on his clothes. his face always covered by shadows, be it the shadow from a leering building, or a nestling tree, he was always hidden in a sillhoutte of scarce shade in a very sunny and dusty town.
The weather was hot and dry..dusty but the water in the brook was high for this time of the year..
Gailee walks out on the porch with a dish under her arm full of fresh washed clothes. with washing line clips in her mouth she was ready for her battle with the hurricane of a breeze , and the dust it brings along with it. She saw the Man, no...actually she just saw the coat..walking by the brook. his footsteps rustling the dust settled on the bank. His pace reminded her of a Black Bull she once saw when she was a child. A memory of strange times in a stranger land, long forgotten.

Not a Word, not goodbye , not even a note...
She was gone with the man in a long black coat..

That night they had a celebration at the town hall. people were singing, dancing or merely hanging around...they were all there, young old , frail robust, everyone in town.
He made another appearance. At the forefront of the hall, stood the man in the long black coat..with a peaceful sneer on his face, looking at the townsfolk, he suddenly looked at her.
He Winked
Gailee blushed,
The Townsfolk noticed,
The Man left
Gailee ran out discreetly to avoid any further embarasment .
Hes Gone.. but then she notices something out of place , something lying on the white gravel...
A Little Black Book...
She picks it up and peers in side..its empty, but it has a dedication on the first page..it said
"To Gailee..." . Something inside of her moved, shifted, she never got a gift from someone before..at least not someone like that..she gathers up whatever awareness she has and tries to hide the fact that she is daydreaming her mind out about him.
As she enters into the hall again..she notices that he has stirred up quite the commotion.
"Who is this, this man in a long black coat,"
What business does he have in our little town?"
She smiled in the corner, knowing something that nobody else knew...it was a done deal..

It aint easy to swallow, it sticks in the throat,
She gave her heart to the man, in the long black coat.

The next day, the preacher was talking, he gave a sermon saying that every man's concience is vile and depraved, you cannot depend on it to be your guide..it is you O human that must keep it satisfied..

Some body said, from the Bible..he'd quote,
There was Dust on the Man in the long black coat.

McGraw, the Town Bully...came up to the man...and told him to flee town, he is no longer welcome. The Man bent over to Mcgraw and whispered something into his ear,turned around and left the church. Mcgraw's face reddened, and he followed the man outside. all the onlookers went outside to see what was going on. The Man and Mcgraw went over the hill.

Silence...
The man emerges from behind the hill...heading east..
McGraw does not..

There are no mistakes in life, some people say...
it is true sometimes you can see it that way...
People don't live or die, people just float
She Went with the man, in the long black coat,

Theirs smoke on the Water, its been their since June,
Tree trunks uprooted beneath the high cresent moon,
Feel the pulse and vibration, and the rumbling force,
somebody is out there, beating on a dead horse,

She never said nothing, there was nothing she Wrote, she went with the man in the long black coat..

Thanks Bob, i Owe you