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The tell-tale waves on the moonlit beach have fallen asleep. A shabbily constructed raft arrives, at 2am CST, like a ruffled postwar matron, carrying two tired souls, and two limp bodies. In traffic, I make childlike taunts at any driver whose car wears a political bumper sticker. Everybody I know is cursed. On quieter nights, I have stood on the edge of the big machine and listened to them die. The long-distance charges were horrendous. I can’t afford to be socially conscious. Unconsciousness has always been way more comfortable anyway. I’ve heard that death feels the same no matter what language you speak. I'm thinking about building my own raft.  

Reviews

[Crowley]

A social comment with big impact.....I totally feel like this some days. I got some twine...and a little bit of lumber. You bring some bologna and white bread and the comb in case we raft into some hot disillusioned chicks on another raft. I'm leaving the product at home and going au natural....bed head for weeks. All joking aside...great writing, could feel the sigh of discontent in this one I think.

[Kerry O'Connor]

I love that opening line, and how it links all the way through to the end.. Interesting concept: social unconsciousness, and more popular than one might think...

[Kenneth The Poet]

I hear Cuba is nice this time of year.