Inside the Skull of a Spirited Horse

Finally the time of his destiny has come.  Visiting hours have ceased and the rich, well-cared-for older women who have left their aging spouses up on the hospital’s rock hard beds are now flowing meticulously out into the parking lot.  And here comes one.  At last, the perfect one, the one he has been patiently waiting for.  She’s totally alone.  He looks around to see if there’s anyone else nearby, no one but the old watchman with his dull, killer eyes who, now pensioned off, remains nothing more than a solid citizen type, working for a pittance, protecting the property of the corporation, forever addicted to the undeniable excitement of the natural, selfish behavior of the compulsive criminal acts of our lives. 

Quiet!  Here she comes, wearing a dark wool crepe suit, carrying an expensive designer handbag rather loosely over her shoulder, heading directly for a dark Cadillac sedan, limousine blue with a black convertible top, the one she uses when she spends the winter in the rich man’s healthy Florida heat.  She continues to walk; very carefully he moves over toward her, cutting across in front of her, eliminating any possibility of escape.  He moves to the left side and to the back of her.  He can see that she has noticed him now out of the corner of her eye and he nods his head favorably, a kind of positive expression hopefully relieving her of her anxiety, giving some assurance that she’s safe.  At the moment, he senses himself in an unreal world.  The dim, yellowish, money-saving parking lot lights reveal in a dreamlike fashion the unconcerned insects defying gravity, circulating frantically around the haloed lights.  He’s pulled by the dream, but fights to the very center of his soul to keep his balance and his determination intact.  She moves now in her high heels as if there is the slightest twinge of fear and he wonders at that exact second what is in her mind.  He moves closer as she approaches the car and says to her, “Good evening, ma’am.  Beautiful night isn’t it?”