Hot Desi Aunty Getting Ready

He tried to fool himself into thinking it was any other day of the week. But it was impossible. On a desert island, stranded there for the rest of his life, he would always know what day was Sunday. The stench of it. The holy ferocity and superiourness of it would beat him into a ping-pong ball for ever. But he was 32. And he was trying to get the chords right. Chords. Not cords. Not cords you can use to hang on drapes or cords you can use as tassels on lampshades. But cords you could use to kill yourself with. Your own private garrote. Your own private false fantasy world comes true. But the music he made, he had to keep that in mind. So he pressed the Chords. And he tried to think what he had said before. He tried to think the long silences were his chord strokes having an effect. Not that he particularly wanted to have an effect. It was just his way of saving face, of pretending the chord listener was not up in the belfry looking down like the Phantom of the Opera and seeing him. I paid a dollar for a jug of water in Philadelphia then I bought two more in Saint Louis. One for drinking and the other for washing. Needless to say it was a long arduous trip with the exception of two bad thunderstorms on the way. It was the worst storms I ever seen and it scared me very much. The winds were so strong I believed they would derail the train. But it being summer the humidity just didn't go away.On the twelfth day of my journey the train pulled into Sidney. I had breakfast in the dining car long before we arrived. I looked out the window to see a large crowd of people gathered there. Most were wearing old clothes toting backpacks and tools like shovels, picks and other things. There were so many getting off at this stop I realized that these were going into the Black Hills to search for gold. They were getting off to buy equipment that would make them rich. I was the last to get off hoping that Miles was there to meet me. I only had seven dollars left and even at my.
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