Monday, December 10, 2007

So, Anthony's house burned down last night...

not really, but close enough. He slept on a friend's futon and came into work this morning wreaking of smoke. It smelled like he had been roasting marshmallows all night, but instead he was watching his life crumble in front of his eyes.

When he breached the door at 10:30, he had a thousand-yard stare and the look of a disillusioned vet. I spotted him going through the trash looking for lunch scraps, and when I asked him what was going on he actually barked at me.

It became apparent very soon that something was direly wrong. I passed a hat, to see if I couldn't help maybe get him back on his feet. When I offered him the 12 dollars and 18 cents, he looked all indignant and refused. It's such a bold move, to refuse charity, but hubris will be your downfall my friend.

Who knows where he will be spending his night tonight.

Anthony, wherever you are, I will sing you my fondest lullaby from the warm comfort of my bed tonight. Hopefully, the sweet notes will reach your dirt-caked ears and lull you to sleep on your bed of tear-smeared newspapers.

-Brett


PS - Okay, so maybe I don't understand the concept of sadness. And maybe, okay, yes, I've never been sad before. But looking up the word in the dictionary, I get a premonition that maybe it's worse than good. So, when you google search "huge sadness" it seems weird that this picture and this picture are two of the top ten choices.


PPS - This one's for you Anth:

1 comment:

Jeff Potter said...

first of all, This song is horrible, and you should be ashamed of yourself.

Second, on the subject of sadness, Julie, the office manager/ near senile woman ("I'm sixty two years old! Raised all my babies, all my granbabies, and now workin on some great-granbabies!" She never gets tired of of proclaiming) passed out some Christmas Cards today to the office. she made her rounds including to me, hands me an envelope.
"Jeff" said the envelope in friendly hand written letters.
"Thanks, Julie, that was really nice"
I open it, and on the front it says
" with Sympathy and Hope"
Hm. That's weird.
so the inside says

"May God's promise
of eternal life
comfort you
in your sorrow."

Julie and Family

I couldn't possibly bring myself to say anything.

I hope a bereaved person didn't get a vague message of Christmas cheer by mistake, but then they might need it more than I do.

Dios mio, Anton. You always have a warm bed at my place.