Actually, that very morning I had resigned myself
only to meet everyman for the rest of my life, and began to apply the
appropriate measured steps toward this reality. But I was at the corner
of 14th and Bismark in the drowning light of a rainy day when I was approached
by a man. He wore a long damp dark cloak with collar turned up and a hat
with a downward brim. I saw an unlighted cigarette in his mouth and as he
closed the distance between us he began "Can I-", I was already drawing
my lighter from my pocket, shielding it from the rain. As he continued
his lips did not move but the cigarette wagged up and down like an imploring
puppet and when I could almost feel his breath I heard: "Can I crack my
skull against yours?" When everything stopped I looked into his eyes
and saw a gaze as sure and steady as if there had been nothing in their sockets. Then there was a strong thunk and bright white and that was all.
Revivified by the same gray rain of dawn, I was
surprised to find myself in the same place. I thought I was lying on the
ground, and as the first passerby walked on without question or surprise I
quickly tried to rise up and then brush myself off and then attend to all those
people I was thinking about. But I lifted my arm, it
would not move. I tried to shift my leg
but it did not budge. And then I felt
another passerby. He stepped on my face,
and I felt no pain. The sole of his shoe was as flush with the contours of my
head as if it were the same as the flat pavement of the sidewalk. And then a
woman stepped on my ribs, but again, it was as hard as concrete. I looked up at
the people walking on and around me, I can see them, and I found that I was in
the firm ground of 14th and Bismarck where I had met the man last
night. As the sun rose, so came the wave
of people skittering over my body on their way to everywhere. Sometimes they
stop for conversations near me and I can hear everything and what a pleasure it
is. But nothing like the pleasure of this stillness—the strength of this
unflappable inertia.
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