B O N D P H O N E.
Words and pictures by Chris Lamb.

Rain smell kicks off pavement, mingles with smoke to produce something hard to place. Chemicals rush along the long, practiced drag to cook brains filled with spaceships and lies; head-swimminess guaranteed right on the pack and there really isn't anything like the first one of the day. Outside under skies that gnarl and flush like living things with a stack of comics bought with food money. This is a start.

The next week is going to move at a scramble, like those dance contests where the band keeps upping the tempo. Ignore the sweat filling eyes, the burning scream of leg muscles and keep moving with the beat. Tomorrow is new-job stuff, maybe, then driving to Jacksonville for Rachel's graduation and drinking and not showing teeth when I feaux-polite smile at her boy. Then Birmingham for more pretend enjoying myself, then home. Next week is - say it and mean it - JURY DUTY and finalizing new-job thing. Oh, and the long crush of family drama begins, like so much ship's hull scraping iceberg. Lots of pieces moving at odd angles and ludicrous speeds. Nothing going forward, persay, but lots of swinging to the sides. Which, as Patrick points out, isn't always a bad thing.

Summer happens now. May has always been good to me, and the first volley comes together in the next few days. Gimme gimme gimme chaos.

posted by chris  # 9:54 PM