Scrape away the pain so that a new day can be lived without yesterdays tragedy screaming in the ear. Watching the others with jealous eyes compounded his fractured sense of reality. Brush away the ticking intuition which draws it's voice close to you and whispers "You have had enough." The time to throw in the towel will be dictated by Fate and one's own doing. At times it can be easier to think that the world has forged a menacing plan to consume you on its evolution of devouring souls. And then there are the adventurers who grab life by its throat, pull it close like a famished lover and draw forth from its Mouth of Abundance what they they can get.

The flashbulbs burned. So bright. Burn. Burn. Burn! Charging through the corridors of conquest He stands firmly as his insides twist and bulge. Sit in the fixed position and remember when you were quiet. When silence fell upon your heart and stillness was like an old friend, coming back around to ground you. One foot is in a running shoe while the other is stuck, cemented to the remnants of familiarity. But the old sentimentality conjures up the reveries of a life lived. And the heart thumps more profoundly, resurrecting the affable feelings that were experienced because of a Giver.

Like a burbling fireball Samuel viewed the oncoming red light with contempt. His stomach felt like it was about to explode and his bladder had to be leaking. He tried not to think of water yet he felt that nothing could help him as driblets of urine slowly soaked his boxers. The warmth eased itself gently onto his leg and he slammed his foot onto the gas pedal as he anxiously watched the light turn green. As he sped into his driveway he had already unleashed his seat belt while he opened his car door. Crashing through his unlocked front door Samuel gunned it toward the bathroom.
"Hey, what the hell!" Jason exclaimed.
In front of Samuel, like a boulder blocking a path, was his roommate Jason sitting upon the toilet.
"Bro! Hurry up I gotta take a leak!", Samuel stammered as he buckled his knees and held onto his groin as if it were likely to fall off at any moment.
"Alright. Hold on. I'm just taking a piss."
Samuel was so concentrated on not urinating on himself that these words took time to sink in. As he struggled with an oncoming rush of urine dribbling down his leg he noticed that that the bathroom didn't smell. There was no whirling wind of the fan as well. Samuel began to think.
"No fan. No shit smell. Did he just say he's taking a leak?"
These questions began to bombard Samuel's mind like cannon fodder.
Before closing the door Samuel looked at Jason who was still crouching on the toilet.
"What are you doing?" Samuel asked with the patience and curiosity of a five year old.
"I just told you. I'm peeing" Jason retorted indignantly.
He began to feel uncomfortable as Samuel watched him with a dumbfounded expression on his face.
"But you're sitting down. Why are you sitting down!?"
"Oh. I sometimes pee sitting down."
Samuel found himself losing balance. Urinating was no longer on his mind. He was trying to process new and unsettling information.
"Since when?"
At this point Samuel watched his friend's countenance change. His lips drew back and it looked as if he was just being found guilty of downloading lewd acts of unspeakable doing.
"Julie said that it's more sanitary for the bathroom. It's cleaner bro!"
Jason's voice squeaked as he spoke his last sentence. He was in defense mood and knew the onslaught was coming. Samuel perked up in rage. He felt that his friend's new found pussification was an assault on himself as well.
"And you listened to this! Look at yourself!"
Jason slowly peered down into the bowl.
"YOU ARE PEEING WHILE SITTING DOWN! That's what women do! You're a man! You're supposed to stand and piss. What the hell!"
Samuel found himself slowly backing out of the bathroom. After his tirade he felt drained and weakened. He never envisioned on seeing his friend so emasculated. A dilapidated couch welcomed his body and he didn't even rise to urinate as Jason sneaked out of the bathroom quietly. Without washing his hands.

Joseph used to get these elevated feelings of euphoria and freedom. They laid dormant for so long but they seemed to be coming back. He was in a walking coma for a few years, surviving off a driving, incessant voice that whispered "Hold On!". Which was fine. It served it's purpose. Throughout that time survival was maintained yet life is not about survival. But it was hard to dust off the lint from his clothes. The sun was bright and it's blinding light can often make one want to go back inside. When the course is unclear and the paths zig zag, taking you here and there the challenge lied in following what the heavens brought forth to him. Acceptance can be scary.

With the chords from the banjo sounding off through the amplifier memories drift into my consciouscness. The lonliness of being out on the road penetrates my core just like before. No one but myself and companion. Listening to this song creates little paths that lead me through the thickets of time. Thorny bushes perhaps but even rose bushes contain these. I remember tall thin trees filled. Their arms stretched out toward the highway's edges, their tiny hands bestowing crinkly fingers of fiery yellows and reds upon the asphalt. It's always the same with me. The passing of time seeps sadness deep, conjuring up the days of old and making me realize that I often live in the throes of recollection.

The mozzarella was bubbling like white lava erupting from a thin crusted volcano. Michael watched it with fevered anticipation as the pretty waitress with grey eyes gracefully slid the pan onto the table. She stared at him so strongly that he quickly developed another appetite.
"Watch what you're looking at!"
Michael lowered his head, looking away from the woman and then at Maria. Her blue eyes fired shots of crystal daggers into his chest as he gulped for air. She watched as Michael squirmed uncomfortably for a moment. She never turned too look at the waitress because she didn't care about her. Can't blame her anyway.
"It's about showing respect. I don't stare at others. How would you feel if I did?" Maria answered the question that Michael was spinning in his head for the last thirty seconds. Looking into her eyes, Michael realized that she was right. He also noticed that the pizza had not been touched and was getting cold. Picking up a slice he placed it on a plate and then handed it to Maria. They smiled. One of his best attributes was silence. Not just shutting up but knowing when to be quiet and observant.
After chowing down on more than half the pie Michael unloosened his belt. He felt the safety of his pistol ride into his rear as he shifted. After four years of carrying he never got used to it.
"I have to stop by next door and deposit a check after.OK?" Maria asked but it was more of a statement.
"Whatever."
Breathing deeply, Michael leaned forward to steal another slice. Beyond Maria's Italian fro he could see a figure slipping around the corner towards the pizzeria. Another man followed. They were both neatly dressed and walking hurriedly. Backpacks hung loosely from their shoulders. Michael stared more intensely at them. They seemed to be too well dressed to be wearing backpacks.
"Stop!"
A shout ran out from around the corner of the pizzerias front door. Michael knew who that shout was for and he also knew who yelled it. The confidence, the zeal fit the bill for one type of man. And the two men knew this as well. They turned back towards the voice in a flash. With their backs to Michael he watched the steel flash from their waists. As the cop turned the corner three shots blasted out into the tranquil afternoon and disrupted any peace that was there that day. Like the marinara sauce that exploded from Michael's slice of pizza one minute earlier, two holes burst from the stunned officers body. His left arm and leg ran crimson as he crumbled to the ground.
Screams filled Michael's eardrums as Maria sank her head forward and covered her ears. Squatting out of his seat Michael grabbed Maria by the shoulder, pushing her behind him and to the ground. Instantly he looked up towards where the two men had been and saw them walking at the officer. As he tasted his lunch beginning to rise, Michael bit down hard. He seized his pistol from his waist but remained crouched. The safety had never felt so heavy as that moment. As the tiny click sounded off Michael stood up but kept his knees slightly bent. An ambiguous feeling took control of his body. Although he felt light, almost weightless, there was a heaviness to his motions that he never experienced before. Bringing his weapon up and leveling it at shoulder length, Michael stalled one second before making a decision. As he watched the men approach the officer, he was caught off guard by the cop's eyes. They were staring straight at him. He could make out the whites of his irises and the fear that was drenching his face with perspiration.
A gunshot never sounded so loud for Michael as he let his finger slide over the trigger. In rapid succession he shot off 12 rounds into both of the men before popping out the empty cartridge. With shaky fingers he sized the spare but quickly realized that there was no need. In a state of shock Michael found that he was nearly standing over both men. While he had been shooting he crossed twenty feet of space but hadn't realized it. Blood soaked up the concrete and little lakes of red liquid surrounded the islands of the two bodies. The officer was struggling with his radio but Michael could not make out what he said. There were screams and howling sirens tumbling through his world but it was all just a type of movement. Nothing but the hollow sound of the welkin existed as he stood trapped in his act of giving.

Third and Final Installment of the Majesty of Dale Sullivan

Even though I didn't know Dale from Adam I did feel a bit jealous of his tenacity. Firing from the hip he came out blasting toward that woman. Now, she was caught off guard by his demeanor especially when he did a quick spin before shaking her hand. In most cases I would just pass this guy off as some freak looking for attention. Not so when it came to Dale. When you looked into his face one could sense that he genuinely believed that this was an appropriate and endearing way to encounter people. And surprisingly it was to this woman. For before I could take another sip of my drink I could see that there was a smile split from ear to ear across her face. It was wonderful to see. Majestic, really. It was at that moment that I learned one of the biggest lessons in my life. If you believe your own truth it somehow becomes a reality. It may not be accepted by all but if it is by you, it can be contagious.

I won't extend this story into a fable but I would be fibbing if I was to say that for me Dale's character was not full of mythical proportions. Short of wearing a cape, the guy was a type of superhero or villain. It depends on how you look at it. Standing strong at 5'7 and 118lbs., on a winters morn', he didn't let his size set precedent for how he would live. Meeting Dale on that lonely day was a gift from the heavens. Placing himself next to me at the bar, he quickly ordered Bourbon "Straight up!" His voice squeaked as he chirped out his order. It didn't seem to bother him though. Leaning to his side, almost falling off the stool, he began to search for his wallet. Like a lizard snapping at an eight year old boy's curious fingers Dale whipped his head toward me and yelled "I always pay right away!" He slid his hand out in front of him and extended it across the whole bar. I don't know why he told me this but I didn't care. I slowly inched away and turned to look at a decent looking woman in her thirties who I somehow overlooked. Suddenly I felt slight breathing over my shoulder and heard the word "Tail." slowly ease it's way out of a weathered old voice box. I didn't have to move. I knew who it was. Turning around calmly I figured that this lost soul would slide back into his earlier position yet I was wrong. By the time I got clockwise to the front of the bar I could smell his breath as if it was fumigated right into my lungs. He didn't move an inch. However, the biggest surprise was that his breath didn't smell horrible. A strong permeating minty odor seeped from his face as if he had been sucking on a giant Yorks Peppermint Patty for three hours. I decided to stay put and not face him. He got the clue and turned clockwise as well.
"Yep. Fine piece, my friend. Dale's my name."
He uttered these words so fast that I barely had time to ignore them before his hand gripped mine and began to shake it firmly. I didn't want to retreat so I shook his hand. He wildly released mine then gulped down his bourbon in a flash. His actions were so abrupt that I gradually found myself intrigued by his spontaneity. While my interest grew Dale abruptly switched his eyes from my face and I noticed that he looked past me, way past me. 1,000 miles gone. Leaping off the stool and barely landing on both feet, Dale sped past me but not before whispering "Snooze you lose!" into my right ear. Shuffling past an oncoming biker couple, he made his way toward the woman I had just watched a minute prior.

Last week I was in between a few drinks at a local watering hole. The usual. A few sips here and there. Mostly Jack and Cokes. I tend to keep it simple. I was minding my own, just peeling the labels off of my partners empty Coors'. The place was light on traffic, just a few booze hounds intermixed with strumpets and a twenty year old derelict who had nowhere to go but downhill. He decided that here would be the place to start. And he was right. My head laid low as I kept peeling. "This is a Man's World" was piped out gently, smoothly and it eased my frustration, enough to let me look up as I heard the back door creak open. A large beam of sunlight shot like a cannon ball into our morgue and the vampires turned away as if the earths gift was nothing but a nuisance. I didn't mind it. I actually liked it. The sun cut through the room and illuminated it enough to make me realize that there was a world outside of this one, where day and night didn't blend into one another like tangled ivy. I didn't have too much in life but my world got a little brighter the day I met Dale Sullivan.