Le'Jon Gonzalez
Bio
Stories (3/0)
Quiet Decisions
Muffled chirping tethers my conscience to a random awakening. Flummoxed on a molded grout lined restroom floor with a little black book I found hidden inside the wall, behind a loose fitted subway tile, I pat dry my saliva from the books pages. Reading it’s secrets with no name attached lead me to tuck the book into my back pocket as if it were mine. “What the hell? How did I end up asleep on the floor?”, I said, questioning my coffee barely sipped on, “Did she drug me”? At the sink hoping to wash away this perplexed sensation, a migraine whirled in without warning. Migraine to disorientation, I struggle to release the words “what is that sound”, as it thickens. It’s the chirping of European Starlings, amplifying just beyond those four walls as if I were in a portable hearing everything around. The sound shakes me to a cringe while I hold my head, spread my fingers through my hair and pull as I form a fetal stance to the trill of the Starlings, pounding in like a doctor in the 1960’s, performing a psychological demonstration with drills to the skull for behavioral corrections. I shout “AHHHHH!”, within the coffee shops claustrophobic restroom and jolt toward my escape by twisting the iron doorknob. Then shot silence with a high pitched ring similar to a audiometer. Nothing but a white balance coated my vision with a congeal breeze congruent to steps on Cornelia Street, New York City. The pigment-less bright slowly strained, in the most unforgettable fashion. Each dye orchestrated beauty as composed in the black book. There was a Norwegian pine scent, soft rainfall, distant lush forrest green, and serrated foothills layered in snow. Before me lied an icy dirt road illuminated in hues by a predominate pink flamingo sky where a trickling river by lavender, and an ominous mist near a lonely house rested at the river bend. In a far-reached field surrounding me on all sides, I take a couple of steps forward. Slightly flabbergasted, I double take back at the restroom and jokingly murmur “I’ve a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore”, as if someone were around to tune in. There was an oddly positive significance being there, felicity caved in as I begin to follow the road.
By Le'Jon Gonzalez 3 years ago in Wander