OUT OF THE PAST


People didn’t knock on my door much, only Martin,
he lived in a room just to the left of mine. As soon as
I opened the door he would begin his apologies.
“Maybe you’re too high to help this afternoon, I’m
so sorry but this toy box I use to keep my magazines
dry is too heavy to lift.” I nodded my head yes.
“Oh god Martin, will it take long?” I decided to help
the first time because I pitied the way he would lurch
through the hallways. Plus his walls were hung with
fascinating deranged artifacts. I agreed to help just to
see them again. In the center was the gold and
turquoise face of king tut, it was a vintage
Halloween mask in terrific shape, then promotional
photos of Marilyn in cheap brass frames. These
were surrounded by interlocking pieces of filthy
furniture, like a children’s fort without a roof and
the mask hung sadly above. We always stood in the
middle and pushed his belongings to the edges. I
wanted his portrait of Rimbaud the most. It was
beautifully water damaged and taped into a plastic
bag. I could have easily had it but Martin was
disgusting. He offered to show me the magazines
before I picked up the box. “No, you? I’ve never had
money. I’m going to write all day anyway.”