ICE-NINE-SURFER

Digital impress with heels dragging the dirty world of bizarre luxo-fembots.
Click, click click werve-ing side to side the flutter of thumbs and the chomping of gum,
Spittle strewn pathways de-ride the mind.
I sat on the bench under the dying cypress watching with my black 10 dollar sunglasses purchased at Bill's Gas n' go in Recita.
My pulse raced as I glanced at my day-glo timex. She will be here any minute. Sweat trickled down my back my neck twitched.
The message scrawled on the Starbucks napkin said to meet here at 12--,
Was it supposed to be midnight or was I crazy for even beliving she could help me.
I twisted the napkin in between my fingers rubbing the skin raw.
My temples pounded in anticipation. I contemplated running. Just get up and leave I kept telling myself, this is stupid. I began to feel light headed the sun reflected off the metal pseudo-art children playing games long forgotten.
Now a days children lucky enough to leave their television, Nintendo infused cages played on manufactured fun sets. Long lost are the days of free roaming down in a stream building a dam and playing war with your pals until the sun went down.
Tick Tick tick sick sick sick wrenched my stomach riddled with knots , I wiped my sweaty palms on my suit pants.
I remember catching a large millipede in the field behind our house. It put off some toxin that made my hands smell and made me nauseated, like now.
In the distance the black hair was unmistakable. Here she comes. Black tank top, black sunglasses sweeping side to side. I wanted to hide under the bench...... I was mesmerized , just kill me now I thought. Oh well! I discretely raised my hand....