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Suggested Reading

Wonderful Life In Our Lives

By Nelson Gary

Synopsis
An experimental series of interrelated fugitive pieces by award-winning author Nelson Gary, in which he records rhe bliss he and his wife discovered after gaining freedom from heroin and manic depression

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or contact the publisher
lpp31@aol.com
The only thing to do was throw her in the open coffin shaped bathtub and turn on the cold water or just drop her right there on the floor in that big mess she had made of her place and call the paramedics and let them hassle with her, then let the cops and courts have her when they were done giving her back a life she didn't really want to live anyway. Dumping her in the tub beat the hell out of letting some ghoul morticians at a morgue that had as distinctive a smell of disinfectant as a porn arcade dump her in coffin, close the lid, lower her into a hole and pour dirt for six feet.

As I lugged her to the bathtub, I really wondered how much difference there was between a corpse and someone who cared so little about living that they would perform a medical procedure that takes a degree to do or a diagnosis of something like diabetes and a lot of practice to pull off. Was there really such a difference between the dirt she lived in and the dirt she buried herself in her apartment? What kind of life was it that she lived? Buying dope from thugs, sharing needles with people infected with deadly diseases, peddling her ass for the prick of the needle? Was that any better than being food for worms? Did she even live that kind of life? Fuck who knows? Maybe it was like there was this heat, some kind of rage in her, that her body fill like it was a crematorium, and the powder, the smack, was the only thing she'd found that would make her cool and chill as her snowflake skin became closer ashes.

I hated myself for thinking shit like this, but it was a distraction. I was angry, more than angry. I was livid. All my rage wasn't all about Noelle. Nah. A lot of it had to do with Dariel, but somehow I just never got to the point of letting myself feel it. I was furious at being so cheated. I was steamed that the girl I was about to try and save from an overdose was not Dariel. I wasn't angry at Dariel although I was angry at myself for being mad as hell at her. I was ...»»

 

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March 2003   turn