Jim Trainer

The Atheists

In Uncategorized on January 5, 2013 at 12:16 pm

Week after Christmas, first night of the first day of the year. The backyard’s quiet. I’m hanging a wet mop and breaking cardboard for kindling. The ashtrays are filling with rainwater. I sip from a chilled glass among the dim lights on a dead holiday. The kitchen is clean. The shift’s almost over.
She gets out of a white Volvo and sips from my glass. She leads me by the hand into the old house. I pull her pants down to her boots and bend her over by the fireplace.
After, we lay entwined by the fire. There are no sirens and no laughter coming down the drag. 9 days on the shift, another Christmas kicked in the teeth. The vodka from the glass almost drained.
Tomorrow a white sun will rise. It’ll make pain of the stretch and take all conviction from protest. It’ll shine down, say it’s over, get back to work. I’ll reach up and shut the blinds and we’ll roll over. The sun like everything else is a liar.

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