Short story by me

Pure Pallet

By

Jessica Singleton 

Diary Entry 

10-13-2018

7:45 PM

I walk in the silent hours. 

It's the only time I feel relieved. Being in solitude by a mechanical hand-

Can make the most reclusive person beg for an escape into society.

But the bipolar split comes frojm being cornered and abused by someone else's opinion.

That will make the same victim want the alone hours-

To feel relief from the trap. 

As though the injured animals escaped the lab. The  chance arose. By the ignorance and neglect of the mad man behind the curtain . 

I drink enough coffee. But I still get visits from my headache friends from time to time. 

They linger on the edge of society as well. Although I think they are insane. 

Unlike me-

I have that walking in a straight line thing down. 

At this point you would think that I just got pulled over on the highway after last call.

Nevertheless I am not committed yet. 

So there is hope.

Yesterday I found an apartment building. 

Well it was a vintage building that was turned into a set of homes for sale. 

I bought one of them.

There are only 4 in all. 

The bottom floor is owned by an elderly woman. She is sharper than most people half her age. 

She is twice divorced and once widowed.

She must be rich. She wears broaches that have real diamonds. 

She wears scarves made of silk and her door was partly ajar one day and I would swear that I saw a Baby Grand Piano. 

The second floor is owned by a Spanish artist named Pablo Sanchez. He is a painter in his spare time and tattoo artist on Monday through Wednesday. 

He has a weird dog. 

The third floor was left empty for the longest time. Then a lawyer moved in with her yoga instructor husband. They are always busy and gone. 

I live on the top floor with my cat. 

I have a Burmese cat named cinnamon. 

He guards the windows and sleeps. 

I stayed busy for the longest time.

Keep my mind away from what I forget to mention. 

I can't deal with what I know sometimes. It hurts and echoes throughout me. Like a resonating bell to break the silence on a Sunday afternoon. 

---

Monday morning-

I woke up early for no apparent reason. 

Cinnamon was on the counter in the bathroom trying to drink water out of the sink. 

He has a clean bowl of perfectly good water in the floor. 

I drank coffee and I ate a bagel. 

After I got ready I went to work. 

---

Tuesday night-

I met a friend Marie for a drank at a bar that is down the street from my house. 

When we were halfway done drinking- 

A new crowd of clowns walked into the bar. 

We finished our drinks and we left the noisy crowd. 

They were wild.

They were not bothering us or effecting us.

We were both just not into the obnoxious crowd.

We walked a block to a vampire piano bar. 

Not the kind where they take joke requests for silly hour. 

It's like a gothic jazz club. 

There is a pianist. 

The players only play symphony, vintage 1920s, or Phillip Glass.

The place is dark and lit by candles. 

The center piece on every table is a pewter looking cocktail glass that is molded into the table. It holds candy, but all the wrapping looks vintage. As though it should be from a Rockwell picture. 

The candies are an assortment of butterscotch, mints, salt water taffy, hard candy and caramel.

They don't serve dinner. They have drinks and nuts. The only food they offer is candy. 

Like it's Halloween. 

I was talking to Marie and I got up to go to the bathroom. 

I accidentally bumped into a man. He was stunning in the glow of the ambience of amber and golden light. 

Maybe I was alone too long before I met him, 

Maybe it was the sweet whiskey scent from his charming lips but I fell in love with him. 

He was my witching hour delight. 

He was tanner than me and taller. 

He worked in antiquity and history. 

He could not have been more perfect. 

He was a phantasmagoria mirage from a fairytale. 

And that is what he became. 

But not until sometime later. 

I never stopped to question how you can go through life nonexistent.

Then BOOM out of no where-

Everything is perfect.

But nothing is perfect.

So why would it be?

Perfect?

The night I met him was like a cliche or old wives tale-

Do not stay out after dark.

Don't take candy from strangers and don't talk to monsters.

They will break your heart.

He became a chimera after the lies faded away. 

He became my damnation. 

But like everything in life-

Dark vs light 

Sand vs sea

Everything has a counter point. 

Water and sunlight makes rainbows.

Well darkened corners wipe away lies.

It did not take long before I realized what dangers lurked around.

And I got my life back 100%. 

It did not take years, he was a crush. Just a person who knew that I loved him and he smiled at me for one second. Then he lied to me. He pretended to love me. In hopes of using me. But it never got that far. The truth was to abundantly obvious.  So I never had to go through hell or a waiting spell. 

I was not at a loss. 

And I still received my entire life back.

I was given back what I deserved.