My head hurt.
The light above the table was fuzzy and I could tell from the totally recognizable dimpled face feeling that I must’ve been lying with said face on the table, or more accurately, across my laptop keypad; because I could feel J, K, L , ; and U, I, O, P, [, ], \ peel away, one by one from my cold cheek as I painfully raised my head to, I guess, wake up…
My laptop displayed “Close Window?”
I ignored it.
Why would I be laying….hey, wait…hold on….
I never fall asleep sitting up; or laying on my back; or in any position other than on my right side for 2-5 minutes, rollover onto my left side, place bent pillow between knees and sleep for 4 hrs then repeat.
My body is very insistent on this ritual.
So, needless to say I was a little amazed at why…
I shit my pants.
Well, not really but (pardon the pun) I wasn’t expecting to hear a voice, especially a man’s voice that was apparently attached to some man person close by, that hadn’t been here before….well, before…
I have no idea what I’m talking about, I’m all….
Getting fuzzy again. I tried to remember. Falling asleep sitting up was really freaking me out, man! I never…
I mean, I’m a freaking paranoid hypochondriac OCD crazy person in his 50’s! Anything out of the ordinary nowadays freaks me out!
Everything is a sign or symptom or….a curse or something!
“Trey?” The voice again.
The sound of a body in a chair, getting more comfortable.
I guess he was staying…
I looked thru eyes that were trying to roll into the back of my head or drop into my mouth, trying to focus on a man that was sitting across from me somewhere by the fridge, I think. Couldn’t tell exactly.
I wondered what was wrong with my vision for a few seconds. All Paranoid Hypochondriac OCD crazy people go thru this instantaneous, completely necessary, self diagnostics check. Lasts about 7 seconds…
Yep….cataracts. I knew it….
“Trey?” The voice again, a little louder….maybe a little impatient.
The same sound of a body in a chair, getting even more comfortable but, agitated. I guess he was staying longer…
“What?” the dry gap in my face croaked a noise. “Whaddya want….who the hell are you…what the…?”
I saw the mans hand raise in the universal gesture of shut the fuck up.
I shut the fuck up out of reflex; done a quick 7 second instantaneous, completely necessary, self diagnostic hand gesture interpretation check.
Yep…that was a shut the fuck up move….
I said “Fuwuuu?” in defiance…
“How old are you, Trey?” asked the man that sat in the shadow of my refrigerator.
Oooooo…I’m so scared……so official sounding.
Crap…the IRS! I knew it!
I couldn’t help it….”51″ I said.
God, I hate reflex answers and Government mind control!!
I started cleverly looking around the table top for my butterknife. You know the kind of spy shit look. No head movement, no hand movement but lots of freaking eye movement so the impending victim can’t help but look everywhere you look….
I’m gonna have to Bruce Lee this fucker and kill…
The shadow rubbed his face. I guess it was his face, I couldn’t exactly see how….never mind; I’m getting off the subject.
“How long have you known that you’re an Angel, Trey?” he asked.
I didn’t say anything. He didn’t mean “Angel” the way we normally mean “Angel”….
Son of a bitch. This guy ain’t from the government.
Not from this government….
The shadow brushed its knee and continued “A….Dominion, to be exact De Coelesti Hierarchia“.
One freaking day after I find out something that only people on medication or magical navajo cactus juice can appreciate and I get this guy showing up at my house asking me about it.
I ain’t supposed to say anything…yet.
Thats the #1 rule. “Don’t talk about Fight Club” sorry….couldn’t resist.
……………to be continued