Rozz Williams & Gitane Demone
Dream Home Heartache (Triple X)
by Angela Dauthi
It was raining. A chill, gray sky wept for its children and mourned for their future. I sat inside, watching the bloated drops burst upon the window. The ashtray was breeding spent cigarettes, and the Burgundy from my cabinet spread a soft warmth across my skin. Clothes weren’t necessary, just a silken robe, and a comfortable chair. From across the room, Rozz Williams and Gitane Demone serenaded the cold day, the bleeding clouds. I gazed out upon the world, an expanse of limbo, infinite chamber of ashen ceiling and concrete floor. I had sent my lovers away, and savored the rumbling silence alone, drifting away on a thought as Dream Home Heartache (Triple X) stroked my limbs, a gentle, dire pallor cast over existence, a reminder of the often-overlooked beauty contained within inertia.
My fingers idly stroked the stem of my wine glass as I let my eyes wander about the room, all the tools of my pleasure silent, hanging obediently from their hooks, worn with use, proudly gleaming in their shadows. Yes, I have used them well, but not today. Today is a day of repose, a time for mute contemplation of the soul. Ineffable conclusions, wordless answers my only response.
The rain abated, but the day was still charcoal, slipping into dusk, announcing the coming of nightly duties.