The Worst and Final Loss

Jesse sat in the grass and smoked a cigarette. The ocean bathed his field of vision from the distance where he sat, surrounded by the debris of his old school. He tried to force himself to surrender towards the serenity of self-reflection with ease.

Solitude consumed all the horizon in such a deep way that even seagulls respected nature's efforts not to disturb the coastal breeze's whistling breath; as the wind blew through Jesse's face and hair like the fingers of a lover.

When Jesse blew smoke-rings to pass his time, he purposefully saw in them nostalgic memories of his past and childhood. He remembered the good parts that outweighed the bad. With mathematical precision, he traced the cobwebs of the smoke-rings as if those were from a non-solid generational quilt. Like a pattern made by dancing poppy-faeries that would seductively belly-dance to advertise for the haze of opium fumes they would have emerged from.

His mind wandered compulsively by picking out the geometric patterns of smoke-trails he exhaled. It was his current momentary way to prevent chronic boredom. In another slow and sensuous puff of smoke, he visualized his favorite memory of riding elephants with his grandparents at The Wild Animal Park.

Jesse took a few deep breaths. Again, he mentally traced over the charcoal-colored strings of air with his eyes. This time he transported his imagination back to his old Cadillac at a drive-in movie, 11 years earlier. That night he had brought along a bottle of Jack Daniel's, some grass, and a girl. The Holy Trinity of every other 16-year-old boy. He went so far back to remembering his high-school sweetheart, he could remember the scent of apple and pot he had smelt on her skin as he deflowered her in the backseat.

But these days he was a man with little to no zest for life left. He looked over the flesh and varicose veins in his hands and arms. Someday he was going to die. He learned that a while ago; when he flunked college, when they kicked him out of the army, and now when he was literally completely alone. No friends or family. Essentially, every extra thing he'd enjoy was stripped from his state of being. Everything was perfect now. "Perfect" meaning there was nothing more to look forward to. The cycle was complete. Just a lifestyle as utterly inert as a never-ending hum of a refrigerator or air-conditioner.