david_and_leigh_ii unhinged karago's death was on the front page of the paper. his small amount of family still lived in hungary and his body was sent home to be buried near his father. his mother contacted leigh and asked her to gather some of his things to also send home. leigh hadn't been on the doorstep since the day she had watched david beat him senseless. it had rained several times but leigh swore she could still see little remnants of his blood on the sidewalk. she should have been at her apartment packing her things. she couldn't be happier to be leaving at this point. she picked up the doormat and found the spare key in it's usual place. as she walked in, a noxious smell hit her. she gagged. she walked over to the refrigerator and opened the door to find some half-rotted pizza. kar had a habit of leaving leftovers too long in the fridge and it had been a week since he was...she dumped the box and the rest of the contents of the fridge into the garbage and took the bag out to the dumpster. she began to clean up the little trappings of everyday life; kar liked to reuse as much plastic as possible. his collection of empty bottles and bags ended up in the dumpster and would inevitably end up in the landfill he tried to save them from. she found some scented candles in the living room and lit them to chase away the stench of the rotting food. she sat on the couch and sorted through the magazines on the coffee table. some she threw away and some she put in a pile to take home with her to read. as she sorted, she came across a sketchbook. she opened it up to a random page and a familiar face started back at her in an unfamiliar expression; it was her. laughing. she began to flip through the book to occupy her hands hoping that it would stop the flood from coming. she recognized drawings of the little black kids that lived on the corner captured jumping rope; or the neighbor's cat with a bird in it's mouth. and there was another one of her, slumped on the floor with her hands rested on her forehead. inside forearms with familiar scars; she flipped her arms over and looked at them and then looked again at the page in the book. a tear splashed onto the hexagon carved in her left arm. she wiped the page carefully so she wouldn't rip it. she turned the page and found a familiar expression on her face; her eyes were slanted, reduced to slits in her face: she was high. all of a sudden she thought of the single night that kar had smoked with her. it was right after she had gotten out of the hospital...it was the first time he had undressed her and helped her put some pajamas on. she didn't ever remember feeling excited or scared when he helped her change her clothes. and that was also the only night that he had gathered her up in his arms and fell asleep next to her. she looked at the drawing he must have done from memory one more time. the corners of her mouth slightly upturned in a sad smirk that she recognized too well. another tear fell to the page. and another. her hands shook as she tried to stop up the tears and carefully wiped the drawing dry. she closed the book and curled up on the couch. suddenly, she felt terribly alone. he was supposed to be here. it wasn't right. she laid her face into the cushion of the couch and let the silent motion of her weeping put her to sleep. 030604 ... frAnk a small child, a french girl, no older than seven held tight to her mother's smooth, protecting hand. she noticed her daughter's usual soft, relaxed grip was being compromised by something intense, perhaps fear. she followed her saucer brown gaze over to nearby rue de montmatre. they stood in front of chez paul in a gentle drizzle of late spring rain. there were terracotta-potted hibiscus offering large red blooms. where she was staring at is what appeared to be an unusual man sitting in the driver's seat of a later model renault parked askew on the narrow cobblestone street. the mother looked hard and realized why le petite bella was so frightened. the man was in his mid twenties, those formidable years of learning through experience. of falling into the arms of angels. of writing, drawing, singing, dancing, playing music, sculpting a likeness of one's self, of gathering the kindling for what will later be the fire of the soul. he was broad-shouldered but thin. his ribs were all but visible from denial and a decreased appetite. for the new desire is not for health and nutrition, but a hedonistic lust. his hair was shortish, but growing out, brown, except where the sun caressed it with blonde. streaks of life like he once knew with a girl that was an incredible writer and beautiful in form. she could play the violin, yet she kissed stone statues and brought them to life with her breath. his face, tan and gaunt, was twisted into a grimace of something he was running away from. some horrific crime he had committed. he had murdered the best friend of the only woman he ever loved. he ran away and they did not catch him. and he was free on the streets of paris. france? how did he make it across the sea? did the police follow him? are the french authorities involved? or is he an ant disappearing between the cracks? his eyes were blue, like the ocean in the early morning before sunrise, when the surface is glassy, dusty, wordless. they blinked stinging tears behind theo eyeglasses. there was a half bottle of sandeman port to his full lips, of which his large bottom one trembled and a nearly imperceptible stream slipped into his stubble. he swallowed the 2o proof tawny liquid like it was warm la leche from the breast of his beautiful mother. his cheeks were bloody from a recent fight he had with the husband of a young lady he had fallen for. he had met her gaze from across a noisy, crowded wedding rception and conversed politely with her. not much time passed and he, drunk now with a hearty red, asked her if he could kiss her but once. she agreed, yet it could not stop at one. it was not his ass that was kicked, yet he bore the wounds of the man's wrath and knife-slashing fury. his severely wrinkled white gap oxford was stained crimson with various formations and blob-shapes that were like pictures in the clouds, like the hand-drawn cartogrophy of his burning soul. he brought the bottle down into the crotch of his 5o1s. he fumbled with an old tin that once housed english biscuits and removed another smaller tin that once held sleepytime tea. inside was homegrown from cloned plants grown inside the attic of a decrepit mansion in the artsy, jewish neighbourhood of pittsburgh. he tore off a zigzag and sloppily rolled a fatty. he burned it down as the mother and child looked on. he was spiraling into oblivion even as he realized clarity lay bleeding with a severed throat. this is david. 030606 ... unhinged leigh had sold her fancy car for a more unconspicuous model. she was moving to a 'rough' neighborhood to 'research' her next book. larry/richard had tried to talk her out of it. seeing her beyond herself that day in her apartment, he thought she would be an easy target for criminals. he didn't know how she had grown up. she thought of playing in her grandpa's backyard as the kid who lived on the other street whose yard butted up perpendicularly to her grandpa's had thrown the flaming cup over the fence at her and her cousins. she thought of the house in the neighborhood she grew up in; the kid that was her brother's nemesis as they grew up digging through their trash cans to find bullets her dad had tried to dispose of and put them into her brother's coat pocket. the cops that had shown up to question the parents of a child that had brought bullets with him to kindergarten. she remembered why her parents moved out of that neighborhood. her grandpa lived in the same 'rough' neighborhood til the day he died a short trip away from the house he grew up in. she had lived on the fringes of 'rough' her entire life. her father had always told her to never forget where she came from. as she still waited to hear about private psychology winning some important award, she carried boxes into her new house on the northside of the next big town down the highway from where she had been living. away from the two of them, the death, the heartache... something had been in the papers about david skipping town on his indictment trial. it didn't much surprise her. she just hoped he had enough common sense to stay away from her, but part of her wanted him to come looking for her so that she could...she tripped on a lose board on the porch and almost fell headlong into the screendoor. 'damnit.' her hand was bleeding from a big splinter. she left the box on the porch and went inside and sat down on the couch. she opened the altoids sour tin that used to hold the lip puckering candy and deeply inhaled the scent that only a pothead could love. she needed to find a new hook up soon. good 'research.' she packed her little wooden bowl and slowly smoked until the pain in her hand went away. the boxes could wait a little longer. 030606 ... frAnk he had dreams he saw leigh. kissing. laughing, talking. happy. free. in love. taking clothes off. naked. he had dreams that were birthed from experiences with leigh. and when he was sober long enough to look at himself in the mirror, he knew he was ruined. but he was alive. he had murdered a man and yet, he walked in freedom. shifty eyes gaze upon him. he turns away, gets in his car and drives. he has fresh clothes on. he is clean shaven. he had his hair cut. today he will find a job with the gardeners at the louvre. first, he pulls into a small petrol station and finishing the dregs of his port sits in the parking space waiting. who will save him? in his running away from leigh and the murder of karago, he is running towards oblivion. a carnival of the flesh. he is grasping for hands lathered in olive oil. ropes are burning his hand. a citroen pulls up next to his renault. it is a 3oish mother with a teen-age daughter. both are beautiful, but it is, of course, the young girl that david is interested in. she is vibrant in her developing body. he watches as she goes in and follows, using the shoppe's mirrors to find her. she is near the gelato. he hurrys to where she is and "accidently" brushes along side her, his hand feeling the lines of her panties through the denim of her american jeans. she leaves the shoppe while her mother is still inside. he comes along after and finds her with the car door open, holding a rotweiller puppy in her lap. he stops time. "what kind of dog is that?" he asks, seizing the opportunity to pet the dog and get his fiddling, sneaky hands close to her nubile body. she stumbles with the pronounciation and he helps her. "scarlet likes you," she says in a baby voice. she is barely fifteen. "hello scarlet," david says. he wonders if she can smell the alcohol on his breath. he is totally fucked up. he runs his hand along the velvety fur of the young dog and imagines it to be her inner thighs. and so he lets his hand bump into her yielding breast. he temporarily finds it soft and highly desirable. yet, she senses his unwarranted touch. was it an accident she asks herself. she hopes so. but, moments later, when his hand slithers like a snake from the puppy to her waiting pussy and he runs his fingers along the tight place between her legs she pulls back in shock. this is real. this is molestation. "seeya," david says, and he gets back in his car and drives away before the mother even comes out. "another crime." david muses. he pulls off to the side of the street, under the welcoming shade of overgrown arborvitae and rolls a quick blunt. he pulls out, lights the fag, and blows the smoke with an unmistakeable air of confidence. "motherfuck!" he shouts, turning on his i-pod and placing the headphones to his ears. massive attack's 100th window is playing. he thinks about what he just did. how disgraceful. how decadent. how sexy. how horrible. he is a monster. he is a saint. he thinks of what must be going in the mind of the young girl when her mother gets in the car and drives on. "who was that man?" her mother would ask. "he was , um, just a guy who wanted to touch, um, scarlet. he was really nice." the daughter says, thinking of the tingling in her private spot, even minutes after the touch. how his hand brought heat and shock. she was scared. she loved it. she wanted to run. she wanted more. "what did he say to you?" "it is not what he said, it is what he did," she thinks, a bemused smile appearing on her face, staring out to the seine. "he liked scarlet." david drove on through the underbelly of paris, past vineyards and arbors to a lone country road, 4o kilometers outside paris. it was to where he shared a house with an artist named vichy and his girlfriend simone. they knew nothing of his life in the states. of his murder. of leigh. it was here where he would disappear. 030607 ... unhinged leigh had found a site on the internet that listed all the bars in town and what they featured and what kind of entertainment they had. she had smoked the last of her pot earlier that day and she was on a mission. she walked into the bar and was greeted by a guy at a table collecting cover at the door. the bar looked like a mixture of a pool hall and a hunting lodge. she presented the guy with her i.d. 'four bucks tonight please.' she handed him the money and held out her hand. he stamped her with a marking that she supposed was to let the bartender know that she was over 21. she walked over to the bar and ordered a jack 'n' coke. the bar was dimly lit and small. she found her way to the back corner to scan the crowd for someone that could hook her up. as she reached down into her purse for her pack of cigarettes, a gorgeous young girl walked in the door. her heart skipped a beat. 'what the hell' she mumbled under her breath and turned her back on the girl. it had been a long time since a girl had made her heart flop over. maybe it had been david's lame attempts to get her into bed with another girl. leigh was stubborn and contrary. david's intense interest in leigh's bisexuality had practically made leigh straight. she looked down and realized her drink was empty. she turned back towards the girl and as she looked closer she saw the telltale signs on her face. the girl's eyes were reduced to slits in her face. leigh walked casually to the bar and sidled up next to the source of her heart dysrhythmia. 'oh excuse me.' 'oh. you're fine cutie.' leigh almost dropped the drink that the bartender handed her. damn, she was so rusty at picking up chicks. she shook her head quickly from side to side. focus leigh. you are on a mission. she pressed closer to the girl's side and whispered an inch from her ear 'you look like you could help me.' suprisingly enough to leigh, the girl didn't flinch at the contact but kind of leaned into it and kept looking straight ahead at the group of boys she walked in with as they began to gawk across the noisy space. 'do i?' leigh raised her hand to cover her mouth from view of the boys that were now intently watching the two of them. 'do you know where i could get any green?' 'oh. is that all you want?' her voice seemed to pout as she placed her hand that was hidden from view of the boys on leigh's waist. 'well, actually...' 'what's your name?' 'leigh. yours?' 'natalie. why don't you finish your drink and come to my car with me?' leigh finished the drink in one gulp and natalie started to walk to the door with a smirk on her face. the boys were doubled up in disbelief. 'no way dude. that did not just happen.' 'man, i think it did.' 030608 ... frAnk david, one morning, during a late spring day when heavy winds had knocked young sunflowers to the ground and now a relative calm heralded the promising dawn, stepped out of a patissierie to find two children from lyon. they were busy drawing pictures with multi-colored chalk on the ancient concrete sidewalks. he watched with a bemused enjoyment for the artwork was pure imagination. people dancing, lemon-yellow sun, bright green grass, puffy clouds, color-color everywhere. and then he caught himself in a dangerous self- parody. "how can i know happiness when my soul struggles to each beat of my wicked heart with the guilt of karago's death?" david thought to himself. he watched the boy draw a dragon with a man in its mouth. and so the sun unexpectedly hid behind a sudden movement of grey clouds. rain fell as from upturned pails and the children scurried back inside the crowded bakery. david moved not, staring at the chalk drawings breaking up, dissolving, disappearing. it was then he was soaked to the skin and shivering. "come inside!" the little girl who had been drawing, yelled. david turned and looked at her. he ran his hand through his hair, slicking it back. she was everything in one moment. a vision of a life he would never know. love, marriage, children, family. he walked casually to his car, the rain making him a fool. he removed a small bottle of tawny liquid from the glove box, unscrewed the lid and sipped. one swallow, two, three. 030610 ... unhinged she led leigh to a jeep grand cherokee in the corner of the bar parking lot. 'it's unlocked.' leigh hopped into the passenger seat. 'so how much do you want?' 'well, i don't know. how much is it?' 'since you're so cute i can give it to you for $30 an eigth. would you like to smoke a bowl while you decide?' 'sure.' natalie reached into a little compartment between the seats and pulled out a nice little glass bowl and a tin. she started to pack the bowl. 'i use almost the same exact tin to keep my stuff in. except it's from the citrus sours.' 'really?' she looked up from her lap with a smile that made leigh's heart flop over again. leigh started to cough. 'oh honey, are you okay?' she put her hand on leigh's arm. 'i think i'm alright,' leigh said as she tried to muffle her coughs. the skunk smell of good pot started to fill the tiny space of the car. she handed leigh the packed bowl. 'why don't you take firsties?' 'thanks.' the sweet taste of pot filled her mouth as she passed the bowl back to natalie. 'thanks a lot actually. i think i'll take an eigth.' she started to dig around in her purse for cash and natalie brought a box out from under her seat. she pulled a plastic bag out of the box that held a bunch of pre-packaged eigths of nice bright green nugs. 'you can pick which one you want. the one on the top has the biggest buds i think.' leigh took out the bag that natalie had suggested and handed her the money and the rest of the bags. 'is there anything else i can help you with?' the tone of her voice made leigh blush. 'actually, why don't you come hang out with me and my boys?' 'i just moved here and don't know anyone so that would be nice.' 'let's go back in and find them.' they got out of the car and headed back towards the bar. leigh felt a little lightheaded. she couldn't tell whether it was the drugs or the prospect of 'hanging out' with this beautiful girl and 'her boys.' she shook her head slightly to try to chase the smile from her lips, but it wouldn't go away. natalie had bounced ahead of her and turned around to see where she was. 'come on slow poke. we have other places to see tonight.' 030611 ... frAnk it was early morning. david was already buzzed. he had started work at the louvre's back gardens and was cutting grass at paradis. he stopped at the unusual sight of a well dressed angolan woman coming down the opposite sidewalk alone. she was singing to herself in a throaty french. he pulled the headphones from his ears and the aerogramme mp3 was silenced. "bonjour," david called out. she said nothing, but stopped her song and acknowledged his sudden presence. she began to cross the road towards him, which worried him because it was busy with morning commuters to paris. he urged her to be careful. soon, she was in front of him, two inches from his face, asking him for five francs to buy petrol for a drive to bordeaux. david inhaled her perfume. he studied her make-up. she was professionally beautiful. he looked down at her voluptuous body, her full lips, her breasts straining against her sweater. "come with me and i wlll give you twenty francs." david said. she followed him to a secret grotto. david did things to her, touched her breasts, lead her to the ground and ate her pussy. she came. she did things to him and he could not get hard. he could only think of leigh. he paid her the money and she went her way, singing. 030612 ... unhinged 'hey baby, what's up?' one of her friends grabbed natalie obscenely as they walked back into the bar. she slapped him. 'dude, what the hell is your problem?' 'oh come on nat. you act like it turned you on or something.' 'quite the contrary asshole. where are eric and damian? i want to go down to the plaza.' 'they are back at the bar getting more drinks.' 'damnit.' they walked towards the three of them holding three drinks. 'boys, this is leigh. leigh this is mike, damian, and eric. drink up. we are on our way to the plaza.' they gulped down their beers and followed natalie and leigh back out to the car. 'let her sit in the front.' 'what the hell?!' 'oh shut up mike. i am not going to subject her to sitting in the back seat with any two of you assholes. she doesn't even know you. she gets the front.' 'i don't want to upset anything...' 'nah, it's my car. sit in the front.' the plaza was right around the corner from the draught house, the bar they had just left. they all jumped out of the car. once again, leigh showed her i.d. to a doorman. he stamped her other hand. 'she's with me harry.' 'alright. no cover tonight.' the doorman waved leigh through past him and smiled in natalie's direction. this bar was more a college style bar. it was long and narrow with a small stage near the bar. leigh walked over to the bar and ordered another jack 'n' coke. she turned around and noticed mike and natalie in a slightly heated conversation. damian walked over to leigh. 'look what you started.' he pointed towards mike and natalie. 'i'm not sure what you're talking about. i didn't start anything. are they dating?' 'ha. no. he wishes. i guess we all wish that on some level. we all saw you two before you went out to the car the first time. did anything happen out there?' 'no.' 'are you sure?' 'YES. god. what is it with boys when it comes to lesbians?' 'so you admit that you're gay?' 'i'm not gay.' 'well you sure seemed like it at the draught house.' natalie had started to walk over to leigh and damian and eric even though eric was kind of lingering on the edge of the conversation. 'hey leigh, can you please come to the bathroom with me.' 'sure.' leigh stepped away from damian towards natalie and natalie grabbed her hand and led her towards the bathroom. leigh's skin felt like it was on fire. when they got in the bathroom natalie looked under all the stalls to make sure no one else was in the bathroom and then grabbed leigh's face in her hands and kissed her. leigh's hands fell to her hips and pulled her closer. leigh pulled away. 'please...' 'what is it cutie?' leigh looked around the bathroom and didn't say anything. 'would you come home with me tonight?' 'i left my car at the other bar.' 'it will be okay overnight. i promise.' 'i don't know...' 'what do i look like? i just want to get to know you baby.' natalie disentangled her fingers from leigh's hair and traced her jawbone with her pointer finger as she leaned in to kiss her again. 'why don't i buy you another drink?' 'ok.' 030612 ... frAnk work day, just enough time to finish and david would go back to vichy's and simone's. back to some assemblance of normalcy, some sense of order. away from the thoughts of getting caught. of suddenly finding the authorities had discovered his whereabouts. his mind held one image. leigh. instead, he didn't go home. he rode along a quiet back street in the hidden avenues of lyon, randomly choosing anything, anyone. suddenly there was a house he remembered. a garden he worked at when he first arrived in france. when vichy shook him awake and told him work would keep him from drinking himself into oblivion. he pulled into the cobblestone driveway. there were already three cars parked. he could see a small group of people on the porch. beautiful people. girls. young girls. he rememberedtthem like one remembers desire. how they looked out the window when he worked. should he get out and approach them? would they realize who he was? the bottle of california port lay in his lap, almost half gone. he had sipped it lazily, like a child on it's mother's breast, yet still he was fucked up. he had smoked the last of what he had known as one of the most interesting times of his life. "where's your mom?" he asked, walking up. his french was horrible, but somehow they knew what he said. "she's in australia," they told him. he went up to the porch to where four very luscious girls sat drinking belgium beer. there was a boy from the states with them. from boston, and david thought his accent reminded him of the film, 'good will hunting.' the girls remembered him from the time he worked in their mother's garden. they were drunk and they played with him because they knew he was drunker. they mind fucked him, but he knew it and he played their game until he was able to lead one of them away from the group. inside, even past her boyfriend. she was nineteen and the moment they reached her bed her lips were a magnet. the boyfriend pushed the door open and found them naked. she was riding him backwards, david's hand were on her small breasts. the boyfriend began to laugh. 030614 ... unhinged after one more drink, leigh's head began to swim. the bar was rather crowded and noisy and she was getting to the point where the activity around her was beginning to make her sick. natalie was a few stools down the bar talking to a seemingly random guy. from the looks of it, it was all business. leigh didn't want to disturb whatever was going on so she made her way to the bathroom alone. her bladder felt like it was going to explode. the pain discouraged her better judgement and she sat down to piss for what seemed like forever. she sat there and tried to count in her head the drinks she had had and she guessed it was more than she had originally thought. four drinks and a little smoke usually did her very good. the smoke seemed to be doing her better than usual. she stumbled to the sink and looked at herself in the mirror. her cheeks were extremely flushed. she grabbed a papertowel, wetted it, and held it to her face. please god don't let me puke she thought. a few girls had wandered into the bathroom giggling and eyeing leigh a little meanly. leigh had noticed over the course of the night that many of the girls in this town seemed to be threatened by anything that walked. leigh started to feel a little hostile so she left the bathroom. 'god, those girls need to get over themselves,' she mumbled to herself as she tried to make her way back to the bar. suddenly she felt a guy grab her arm and she started to pull away when she looked up and noticed that it was eric. 'are you okay leigh?' 'i don't feel too well.' 'you look a little overwhelmed. do you want to go?' 'yeah, actually i do. where's natalie?' 'she had to go take care of something. i could take you.' 'well, i kind of wanted to say goodbye to her.' 'ok. let's go sit down over here.' he led her over to a couch near the pool tables. 'do you want a glass of water?' 'maybe that would be good. thanks.' he came back with the water and sat down next to her on the couch. his weight in the seat threw off her precarious balance and she fell over towards him. his free arm flew around her waist to keep her on the couch and her head ended up on his shoulder. 'so there she is. what's going on?' 'oh hey nat. she seemed like she was a little sick so i offered to take her home but she said she wanted to say goodbye to you first.' 'oh. thanks. you ready to go leigh?' leigh nodded her head. 'uh oh. she's not talking. that's probably a bad thing.' natalie got a slight smile on her face and helped eric lift her up and walk her out to the car. 'where are damian and mike?' 'they left with those chicks. you wanna go home eric?' 'yeah.' 'well i guess she should come with me. she doesn't look like she should drive.' 'but my car...' 'it'll be alright sweetie. let's go.' natalie's jeep pulled away. 030618 ... frAnk for david, dreams were the only way he could escape from his perpetual obsession for leigh. he imagined the unattainable as a drunken punch-out at a wedding, able to grasp, but slippery as a freshly-caught fish wriggling out of his arms. it was when he was asleep and nightmares of karago's blood falling from a fiery sky like acid rain punctuated the black curtain of his lustful paris night with pain pricks of shooting delusion that he could not resist. he chose to think no longer of her, but then he knew adventure was in every moment. even suffering. tears escape, like a three-legged cat out of a shoddy cage into the rain and wet darkness. he woke to naked girls, not able to remember how they ended up with him. he no longer could recollect the memory of their innocent meetings. the gaze of the eye. the casual charm. the drinks. and then the false sense of romance. it is romantic to be romantic. .............................................................................................anyfoolcan. he thought of himself. this steely combination of light and darkness. his sun, suddenly appearing out of days of late spring rain was leigh. le shock. the mystery of the full moon was his fascination with youth. he drank red wine as if it was provided by faeries at the stone patio by his doorstep every morning. he drank like it was water from ponce de leon's fountain. cab sav. merlot. pinot noir. shiraz. syrrah. chianti. burgundy. it all flowed like a rushing waterfall. he rolled and smoked from sackage with his new friend, rabbit rivers. when he was numb to the agony of her loss, this vast chasm that separated them, he felt alone, and he burst into tears, caliing out the unspeakable name, screaming for inner truth and understanding. who are they? they are for us. he was happy, nevertheless, as if safety was a mask he wore to a summer holiday in mont st.michel-by-the-sea. ................................ we breathe in............................................................... we should be radiant. he loved women. girls. he worshipped their beauty like a zen master. he journied to the mecca of friendship, daring amicable reluctance to walk a tight wire in some cirque petite in marseille. one side illumination, the other, a world without sight. even then, leigh. always. she was his. he was hers. they were, but are not. they could be again. ........................................................ but how? ................................................ {note:this particular frank_and_unhinged episode was written by our guest, fyn. thAnks.} 030621 ... unhinged she woke up on a strange couch and her eyes were hazy with whiskey. she sat up with a start. where was she? and then slowly it started to come back to her, the gorgeous weed dealer. natalie. and then she realized that she didn't have her car. and she thought of how her car magically appeared at karago's apartment everytime she took a taxi to his apartment and tears welled to her eyes. she looked around for her coat and her shoes. she needed to breathe; she couldn't breathe. in her frantic search she knocked a vase off of a sidetable and it fell to the ground and broke into a million tiny pieces. her hands started to shake. why was she here? oh that's right....research. the name she didn't let herself think threatened to come to the surface of her mind. she fell to her knees in the middle of the broken glass. she needed her shoes, her coat...wait. she needed her purse. the shakiness was beginning to make her sick. she needed some green to make it stop. suddenly there was a hand on her shoulder. 'honey, what's wrong?' 'i need to go.' 'you look like you need to lay down.' 'i need to go.' 'maybe you should just chill here for a bit.' 'i need to go.' her voice was flat and even and her eyes were glazed over. the sound of the vase crashing to the floor had broke the dam that she had precariously built. too many things that she had tried not to think about as she drowned herself in her old apartment as karago lay dying and she stayed as far away as possible. she should have been there for him every minute. the tears started to fall before she could stop them. 'oh honey,' and a hand touched leigh's face to wipe away the tears. 'i need to go.' 030621 ... unhinged [thanks fyn :)] 030621 ... fyngula as much as he breathed in an air full of sparks, these little fires that lit the dark places inside of him, david traveled, limping along the steep pathways of his scorched soul where no moment was ordinary. and though leigh was a ghost that haunted his choices, he pursued happiness as if it was jewlery that clothed his nakedness. leigh represented every failure, an exoskeleton he wriggled out of to emerge as a winged serpent flying into new worlds, biting those who dared to trust him. he had killed a man. he met deanna through simone. she was with her one evening in a paris june when humidity was in the air like a tired sun. they were drinking bottled beer, necks sweating, rubbing a plant on their skin that was supposed to keep mosquitoes away. david saw this as he opened the garden gate. they were sitting on worn wicker furniture. a fountain trickled and simone greeted him, her voice sounding like the music of water. "come in, david," simone said. "i want you to meet my friend." simone was almost drunk and as david shook deanna's hand, simone asked him to take the rectangular guess sunglasses from his head and put them on. they both stared at him and david was hot with embarrassment as much as the summer heat. hot hot heat. 030627 ... your audience come on guys were waiting for you to continue!! 030702 ... unhinged unhinged_apologized (i'll try to get back as soon as i can...i'm really honestly sorry) 030714 ... unhinged she hadn't left the house for days. natalie had called her a few times but by the third time the number came up on her caller id, leigh decided she wasn't going to pick it up anymore. she had holed herself up in the house and smoked and smoked and smoked. sometimes she sat out on the porch and smoked cigarettes and drank cheap malt liquor she got at the corner store while the strange mixture of college students that were hanging out for the summer and the crackheads wandered by on the street. one crackhead in particular nodded at her everytime he walked past; a middle-aged skinny black man with the gait of an addict. his stride kind of sagged in the middle as he dragged his back foot up to meet the one in front. tonight she was sitting on the porch and like clockwork he ambled by. but this time he stopped. 'hey miss.' her heart skipped a beat. this was probably one of the reasons why richard/larry hadn't wanted her to live in a place like this. this was why her parents had moved out of the neighborhood she grew up in. paranoia hit her like a stone in the head. 'uumm...hi.' 'you got an extra cigarette by chance?' 'uuhhh...yeah.' she was honestly too stoned to move but didn't want the guy to come much closer to her house. he saw her struggle to get up. 'oh that's alright miss. just sit down. i'm not looking for any trouble. i just want a cigarette.' he walked up to the porch and took the cigarette from her hand and sat down on the steps. as he reached his hand out his hands shook just like hers. she felt a flash of compassion for him even though she knew the reason his hands were shaking was probably because he needed some more crack. 'why thank you miss. you look a little out of sorts.' 'you're welcome. i'm just a little above myself right now is all.' and the man let out a huge laugh that extended all the way from the bottom of his gut. 'i haven't heard a young person say it like that. shit. that's a good one. 'above myself'....ha. hahahaha.' he slapped his knee with his empty hand. 'ya mind if i sit here while i finish this smoke?' 'not at all. where were you headed to?' 'wick park.' 'aaahhh.' leigh nodded her head. 'yeah, it's not a place for kids like you. don't be going there by yourself.' 'oh, i know. thanks for the warning though. i'm sure you know; i don't leave this porch much.' 'yeah i noticed that. everyday you be sitting here high as a kite all lonely and wilted. you should get yourself out of that house child. this neighborhood be good for nothing but drugs and gunshots. the gunshots usually don't be straying up around here though. the hoodlums usually trying to leave you college kids alone.' 'i see. you're right. i should get up and leave for a bit. but...' 'take it from me sister. the day you start making excuses is the day you become one sorry addict. get your ass up off this porch and go somewhere. even if it be to get some more shit, get up and go.' he stood up and tossed the cigarette butt into the front yard. 'thanks miss. i better not be seeing you here this time tomorrow.' 'no problem.' leigh just shook her head as he walked away. 030716 what's it to you? who go blather from