Short Story: A Reading From the Gospel of Lost Souls

A Reading From the Gospel of Lost Souls

I stood there on the corner of Pine and Longshore, beneath the sign for the number eighteen bus, it was…dusk, yeah dusk. I remember because the old oak leaves cast a shadow, wide and magnificent upon the cold stone of the church walls across the street. Like Christ was there judging me as I counted my change for a pack of cigarettes. Yeah, the tree…it has 734 leaves, all green now that the ice has crept back into its caves to sleep. So, I counted my change but there was only 60cents. 60cents…not enough; but, maybe if I wash this guys windshield, yeah, that’s it! See, I work for my money! But before I could even get up to the car, a nice man dressed all in black approached me and gave me five dollars! So I went into the store to buy my smokes. I walked in and saw everyone staring at me, including the workers. Now, I’ll admit I wasn’t completely presentable, but the real reason they stared is because I’m famous, people everywhere know my music. I still play all the time and people come from everywhere to listen. So I bought my smokes and walked out of the store, still glowing inside from pride. When I stepped outside, the sun had begun its descent into darkness, so I figured now was as good a time as any to head out into the blue night, and wander the streets.


So yeah, I decided to walk the streets that night. I love the colors of the city night, and sometimes I yearn for it. To walk among the nights a silent shadow, moving like the wind between alleyways. So, I started to walk, reaching into my pocket for the still unopened pack of Marlboros’ from earlier, and began to peal the plastic wrap off. Cautiously, I opened the box, and then pealed back the shining paper to reveal the twenty new cigarettes, found one I liked, and fished it out with my tongue and teeth. Reaching deep into my pockets, I felt around for the plastic casing of my lighter and, upon finding it, pulled it out and flicked it open, igniting it with the tip of my thumb. For a moment, I stared into the flame flickering steadily, save for when the wind blew towards me, and watched the fire dance madly, before pulling my hand up to meet the end of the paper, and light my cigarette on fire. Taking a slow hard drag, I could feel the smoke pouring into my lungs, giving me a rush of energy as nicotine wisped through my veins. The smoke hesitated for a moment, still and sustained, like the last note of a song, before turning blue from the street lights and disappearing into the cool darkness. I thought about composing a song where the notes do the same thing, linger in the night, then suddenly fly away. But before the though could carry on I continued walking down the silent streets.
I walked for what seemed like a lifetime until reaching the train station, and decided to make a trip to the harbor downtown. When Then train arrived, I walked out and immediately felt the change in the air, both in scent, sense, and sight. The air smelled like fish, tobacco, and spices, soaking in the eternal sun for years. I sat there and thought about home, back in the country before I left. Summer nights spent playing games with the shadows of the forest. I thought about my past, which in all its infinite knowledge had managed to make me despise myself, even if only sporadically, for the rest of my life. I took a drag and blew the smoke out towards the water, catching my reflection in the distance, distorted by its own admiration. But the wind in all her beauty blew the image out farther, until the contours of my face where grossly shaped. I laughed at this strange picture before tossing my cigarette into the water, dispersing the imaging forever. I turned around and began walking back towards the station, I wanted to catch the sunrise at the park closer to home, and begin my ascension into the Heavens.



When I got home I walked around the neighborhood for awhile. It was unusually warm for being so early in the morning. My eyes felt sour from lack of sleep, yet the idea of watching the sun awaken under the shade of the Old Oaks was golden, and so I followed thus. Limping over to the tree, I sat beneath it and watched as the sun crept up the horizon, sprinkling flame colored dust amongst the landscape. Before long it had reached it’s full morning glory, and the park began to fill with people. I lit up a smoke, and began to watch society mold into the land. Kids standing idly for fear that movement will make them grow old: while old men ran wildly for fear that standing stagnate would strip them of their youths. I painted stories of myself in their shoes: families, careers, birth, death, pensions, tensions and the like. But before long I halted my thoughts, for immortality is greater than all of these things, and isolation is the key to enlightenment.
I stayed in the park all day, eventually succumbing to sleep for what felt like many hours. Silent I did remain, until torrential rain startled, soaked, and stirred me awake. I sat up and began to think: tonight marks the beginning of it all, collisions of the great collective consciousness, and the raindrops fell into this plastic void, creating a Morse code for Mother Earth, while light pure as Heaven itself convulses.
“I am free!” I cried into the air, as the night solemnly hallucinates with me…
“The man with a hundred faces
is lurking in the sky,
spinning.
He holds in his hands a brilliant light,
changing forms; until,
breaking into two-hundred beacons,
back into his eyes again.”




I spoke again: “Great spirit, I am not insignificant! Great nature, I am not a beast! I am the nothing-man, and I will float like the great sky-lights with the life force as my conduct, move between planes of consciousness, seeking nothing revealing all! The backbone of society will be my canvas, and I will create life from the ashes of your neglect!”
With those last words, I sat back down again, feeling the rain everywhere now, and lit up another cigarette. Taking a drag I stood up and began walking again, for in order to move mountains I must first awaken the hills.

Fin.