You Just Gotta Know How To Leave

Diary entry: Timbler, I wished I had never heard of that goddamned town, Timbler was nothing but one of those outpost towns where all the people had been sun baked to the point of stupidity, a dry desert town that reeked of idiocy, yeah, Timbler was thirty or so miles west of Snake Junction, Snake Junction was the jewel of Nardin County, full of every kind of snake oil salesman, medicine man, and eating establishment, I had been in Mama San’s Tea Room all afternoon, waiting, waiting on something I hoped would never materialize, the air felt stale in some way, stale like the last slice of bread in an old hermit’s pantry, the sun shone down contempt, a hot miserable contempt, like your sixth grade teacher looked down at you after you scribbled on your test paper “George Washington was a faggot”, although people walked and mingled on the streets, the town felt empty, yes, empty with some kind of void, a void that was deep, dense, and long, this glittering jewel in the midst of the desert was devoid of something, something you couldn’t quite pin down, but it was a thing that was important, some terribly important thing, that if that thing were somehow lost, all hope of decency, humanity and order would be lost also, anyway, where was I, oh yeah, Timbler, I wished I had never heard of that goddamned town Timbler, full of mud pie people who had been over baked in a most ugly way, I had ducked in to the Timbler Tea Shack, a little out of the way place that only the locals knew of, but then no one knew where Timbler was except for the locals, anyway, a tall, pretty, dark haired Timbler lady brought me hot tea and some cold advice, she said “Get out of town now, while you still can”, yes, some kind of annual celebration was about to begin where all the inhabitants of the surrounding area come into town to celebrate who knows what, probably the usual donkey riding dumb asses, looking for a four day blow out, all you can eat, all you can drink, until you’ve had all you can stand of each other, Paulie always knows when it is time for him to leave, and this was the time…

Advertisement

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s