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It's The Starting Of A Brand New Day

“Wow.” I sat there dumbfounded. “That has to be just about the stupidest thing I’ve ever written.” I yawned and scratched the back of my neck. It was two in the morning, and I was getting tired. “This biography is turning out to be insane. People who read this won’t be able to tell the lies from the truth.” I pondered just deleting everything, or at least the last chapter, and starting over but decided people were smart enough to work it all out. Besides, I had a quota to fill and I was already a few thousand words behind. I decided to just turn in for the night at not worry about it. I’ll write more in the morning, and if I’m a day or two late, so what? It’s not like I actually have to be done by the end of the month, it’s just that I’m expected to be, and I always hated doing what was expected of me.

That night I spelt dreamless, due to some sleeping drugs I was prescribed to be taking at the time. It was a lovely rest, and in the morning I didn’t want it to end, which was the cause of my laying in bed until three that afternoon. When you live alone it’s easy to do stuff like that, and in fact I was planning on staying there until five, but there was a knock on the door. I stumbled out of bed, wearing only an old pair of underwear, and a bed sheet thrown loosely around me. Hopefully it wasn’t the cops or something, since I was in no mood to go downtown like this. I looked through the peephole and saw an eye staring back at me. The only person I knew who was foolish enough for something like that had to be Len, so I unlocked the door and stood back.

“Come on in!” I yelled, as the door flung open. Len stood there, in signature black suit and Buddy Holly glasses. He smiled and walked through the entranceway. I watched as his arms outstretched and knew I was in for the hugging of my life. Quickly side stepping, I managed to avert his reaching hands, and he took a tumble over a pile of clothes, landing on a conveniently placed bean bag chair. It was a dandy spill to watch. You really should have been there. After flopping around, and finally straightening himself out Len looked up at me. He laughed and asked why I hadn’t come over yesterday. He said that he had tried phoning today, but the phone company had apparently disconnected my service.

“Well I did come over, actually. I rode the bus. Even got into a bit of trouble on your account,” I told him, with a look in my eye that said a story was coming on the way. Not an exciting story, or even a very interesting one, but a story none the less. “You see,” I began, as Len made himself comfortable, and I took a seat on the couch, “I had gotten to the stop right by the subway station and was about to make my transfer when I bumped into a girl. She was one of Winter’s old friends, and we remembered meeting at a party I was once dragged to. I remembered her being a pretty nice girl, so we started chit chatting, and surprisingly I neither hated her nor felt intimidated talking to her. Before I knew it I was riding in the opposite direction of that I was suppose to be going, having a lovely conversation with this girl on various subjects.”

“I’m gonna stop you right there,” Len interrupted. “You’re telling me you met one of Winter’s old friends and hit it off? Fucking alright, dude. I was coming over here to say we should go out and pick up chicks, but looks like you’ve got one for the time being. Is she hot dude? Because I mean Winter’s got that wicked ass, and she hangs out with a lot of goths right? Pale chicks are pretty fucking sexy.”

I almost snorted. I guess it was sort of a harrumph, but it sounded more like an outwards snort. I presented my view point of, “You think all women are sexy,” and awaited an retort. It came in the form of a nod so I continued with my story. “Anyhow we just talked for a bit, and then checked out this art gallery. She’s got a show on display this week. And yes, to answer you question, she is cute. A little crop of wild red hair and some delicious cat-eye glasses mark her most of all. She isn’t a goth though. She was wearing a little sweater vest when I met her, and I’m pretty sure goths don’t do sweater vests. Anyhow I’m actually suppose to meet her for dinner in a few hours, so maybe you ought to skedattle.”

He smiled at this and gave me a look suggesting that I was going to get some nookie tonight. I just ran my hands through my hair, and ushered him out the door. Little did I know just how right he’d be.

I quickly showered and dressed. Nothing fancy, just the same old clothes I usually wear. I mean we were only going to a local pub, it’s not like this was a big deal or a date or anything. At least I didn’t think it was. I set out to the address that Valeria had given me. That was her name, by the way. Valeria. It seemed to fit her somehow. I didn’t have to take the bus this time, since the place was only ten blocks away, and the nearby routes didn’t go there anyhow. After the last incident with the rotten kids I was actually a bit frightened of it, and figured maybe I would stay off it for a few days, unless accompanied by an adult. As I approached I saw the word “Restaurant” in neon print on a medium sized window. Right next to this was a door. I entered, assuming it to be the place. My assumption was right as just after I walked in I heard a voice call my name. Looking over, in the rather uncrowned place, I saw Valeria waving from a booth. I made my way to her. This place was narrower than the diner by Len’s but also a lot longer. It had a mostly green and brown colour motif going on too, instead of looking like a hospital room that just had some major operations in the event of a crisis. I sat down across from the girl, and she handed me a menu, saying she was just about to order, but I had better take a look. I picked out some flapjacks since I had been dying for those all week, but remembered that I was short on cash seeing as how I didn’t get my last paycheck until tomorrow. Valeria offered to pay for me, and I thanked her. What a sweetie pie. Oh God, did I just say that? Somebody shoot me. We talked about this and that, and nothing in particular, and when my flapjacks showed up I drown them in syrup. Delicious, those. If I go to Len’s diner for dinner everyday, then I would surely come here for breakfast. By the time I finished my wonderful flapjacks I found myself starring uncontrollably at her. She was very cute, I’ll give her that, but she certainly didn’t have the utter jaw dropping, earth shattering, heart breaking beauty that Winter possessed. Maybe that was my problem. Maybe Winter was just the apex of feminine beauty, and therefore not something I could ever hold onto for very long. This, however, was a girl I could keep close to me for a good long time, and that was just what I needed.

Suddenly, she spoke. “Timothy, are you alright? You’ve been starring at me for ten minutes now, not saying a word.” She gave me a funny look and waited for an answer. When none came, she continued. “Look, I know you were going out with Winter, but… well… I thought you were pretty cute when I met you Timothy. I wouldn’t get involved with a friend’s partner, but Winter’s been dead for a long time. I mean, you didn’t really mention anybody else, and agreed to see me here so I thought…”

“Winter’s back,” I broke in. I don’t know why I felt the urge to say this without explaining it further than that. Of course right after I said this I realized that it was an incredibly odd thing, and maybe not everybody would be as easygoing as me and Len had been. And Bunni too, I guess, although I can’t recall if we told her that Winter had been dead or not.

She looked confused, which was a very good look to have considering the situation. “What do you mean? I was there at the funeral. She can’t… Unless she faked her death. But you were there. You saw. No, I can’t…”

I stopped her again. “No, she came back from the dead. Well, somebody brought her back at least. She won’t talk about it, and doesn’t want to see any of her old friends. She’s actually working down at a record store now. Umm… we can go see her, if you want. It’s not very far.”

Valeria shook her head. She couldn’t believe what I was saying, and must have thought it was some kind of sick, twisted joke. She shook her head again and said, “No… No, I think I’ll put off seeing her for another day. That’s just… I don’t accept this as true. I… Timothy, can we go back to your place?”

It was my turn to be shocked. She obviously didn’t know what my place was like if she wanted to come over. I wondered why she’d ask that, but I probably shouldn’t have been so naïve. Valeria paid the bill, while I left some loose change as a tip. We exited the restaurant and made our way through the snow back to my place. Our conversation slowly turned normal, and by the time we made it back to my place we seemed to be like old pals. We entered and, surprisingly, nothing happened. No cat. No dog. No cranky old caretaker. This was the first time nothing’s happened as I entered in a long, long time. I rather enjoyed the normality of it all. We went up to my place and when Valeria finally saw it her face lit up with joy. She told me it was wonderfully unkempt, just like me. That’s really what drew her to me in the first place. I seemed like a woefully untidy person, and she felt I was like that not only in my physical means, but spiritually as well. For some reason that sort of thing just turned her on. I went with it. I mean what self respecting guy wouldn’t? Okay, you got me. I’m not really self respecting. In fact I respect myself less that I respect most people. And I don’t respect most people. I still took this chance though, and the next thing I knew she was jumping my bones in a stack of old National Geographic.

The sex was wild and sweaty and at times a bit disturbing. I didn’t know she had it in her. I’d describe further but I’d really rather keep this a private matter. Anyhow, the next morning I woke up to the smell of bacon. I didn’t think I even had any in the fridge, and the first thing Valeria said confirmed that I didn’t. She found a few eggs and decided that it was nothing without the sweet taste of bacon. I was just so happy that she wasn’t a vegetarian. I mean all these young hip chicks, and artists seem to be these days. I honestly couldn’t live without meat in my diet. If I could afford it I would have meat in every single meal. Even if it’s just some fried ham with my porridge. I looked down and saw that I wasn’t wearing anything, and decided to go put on some slippers, since it was never really a good idea to walk around in the kitchen with nothing on your feet. The floor was sticky with stuff that I couldn’t even remember. I checked Valeria and found she was wearing some large woolly socks. I knew where those came from, unlike most of my thinks, and almost resented that somebody else was wearing them, but then I realized that I was quickly falling for this girl, and she I’d let it pass. The fact that she was wearing an oversized T-shirt didn’t matter at all, since I think I had gotten that from my grandmother for my fifth birthday. I didn’t wear it then, and I’m not wearing it now. That would be like talking politics with drunk people. Okay, not really, but it’s on TV right now, and I’m a slave to popular media. Well no, I’m not. It’s not my TV either. It’s Valeria’s. See after we had breakfast we hung out all day, and now we’re back at her place. I figured I’d get some writing in here while she was talking on the phone. Oh, she’s off actually so I’ve got to go. I’ll come back in a bit. Later. Tomorrow, I swear.