chapter 6

Trouble seems to find me, no matter how hard I try to hide something always goes wrong. If it wasn't for me staring into the abyss and seeing the great slumbering fetus that feeds upon our energy like a babe at the breast I would think there was a God to hate me.

 

I sat against the hot steel side of the bus listening to the driver grunt and swear at the massive spare tire, I looked up and down the dusty highway and wondered if it would be faster for me to just walk to Chicago from here.

 

I was so wrapped up with staring down the horizon that I didn't notice the young girl that sat down next to me, she reached into her shorts pocket and pulled out a rolled cigarette that smelled like marijuana. Bored and interested for the first time since the bus started moving I concentrated for a second and smiled at the girl. She jumped a little because apparently I wasn't there a moment ago,

 

"Oh, s**t man you scared me.

" She went to put the joint away but I waved her on and she lit it with a pink bic lighter.

 

After a few drags she handed it to me and asked after a few minutes of coughing,

"What's your story?"

 

Handing it back to her I breathed out the gray smoke and smiled as designs and shapes took flight in the air moments before drifting away in the hot breeze,

 

"I'm a wizard, I am privy to the knowledge of the ancients, passed down from Solomon's sons and kept hidden for thousands of years. The land of dreams and nightmares dogs my heels and sends me through this wide world trying to find the one thing that can set me right again, I'm also a drifter because I find the normal world tends to fall apart whenever I stay in one place for too long."

 

"Wow, I'm just a hair stylist, never met a real crazy person before."

 

I laughed  a little and took the joint with a quick thanks.

 

"Is that what those tattoos are about, magic?"

 

Her voice had an edge of sarcasm that I found refreshing, rolling up my left sleeve I showed her the intricate patterns and ancienct runes,

 

"Yup, these ones are called Solomon's gate, these here are old african cave paintings incorporated with celtic plinthes. They help me concentrate and remind me of how far I've come."

 

She was tracing one of the long looping designs with her finger and I have to say it felt good. She stubbed the roach into the cement and looked me in the eye,

 

"Would you mind sitting next to me, whenever this thing gets moving again?"

 

I touched her wrist as she put her lighter away,

"I'd like that alot."

 

So like I said, trouble just seems to find me.