Requiem for a Dream

Harry walked Marion home. The night was warm and humid, but they werent too aware of the weather. They knew it was warm and humid, but it remained a fact outside themselves and not something they were experiencing. Their bodies still tingled and tensed slightly from the poppers and the laughing, and they also felt loose and cool from all the pot and hash. It was a delightful evening, or morning, or whatever it was, for walking the streets of that part of the Apple called the Bronx. There was a sky somewhere above the tops of the buildings, with stars and a moon and all the things there are in a sky, but they were content to think of the distant street lights as planets and stars. If the lights prevented you from seeing the heavens, then perform a little magic and change reality to fit the need. The street lights were now planets and stars and moon.

Even at this time of the morning the streets were fairly active with cars, cabs, trucks, people and occasional drunks. A block away two staggered vaguely in their direction. The woman kept tugging on the arm of the guy, I gotta pee. Fa krists sake stop so I can pee. Cantya wait five minutes fa krists sake. Its just anotha couple a blocks. No. I gotta pee. Back it up the ladder. Whatta ya think Ive been doin? My molars are floatin. Jesus krist, your some pain in the ass, ya know that? Yeah? Well it aint my ass thats buggin me. She grabbed him and they stopped and she lifted her skirt and hung on to his belt and squatted behind him and started to pee, Hey, what the hell ya doin ya crazy bitch? — Ahhhhhhhh that feels so good— You some kindda nut or— Stop wigglin, ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh— Aintya got no shame? He spread his legs tryin to avoid the ever widening and ceaseless flow of an evenings beer drinking as she continued to sigh with life saving relief easily ignoring the gentle splashings that tingled her legs, her eyes closed in absolute ecstasy as she swayed back and forth, tugging at his belt as she reached the end of the arc in either direction, he trying to maintain his own precarious balance and tug her back in the other direction while doing a quick pantomime to avoid the results of the opening of the floodgates, Let go fa krists sake, but she continued to tug and sigh and pee, Ya go

a pullus—suddenly he noticed Harry and Marion and he jerked himself to attention, smiled, and spread his arms out to hide his crouching lady friend of the emptying bladder. Harry and Marion adroitly, though sleepily, avoided the stream and stepped over it with aplomb and Harry smiled at the guy, Your old ladys a pisser man, and then laughed, and he and Marion continued down the street and the guy watched them for many seconds and then an emergency bell went off in his head as he felt his body lurch to one side and he tried to resist and maintain his balance, but lost the valiant but short battle and found himself floating in the air toward the rapids below, Hey, what the fuck ya doin ya crazy—and he hit the surface of the stream with a splat and floundered around, HELP! HELP1 while his lady friend lay sprawled on her back continuing to sigh, ahhhhhhhhhhhhh, and to add volume and speed to the rivers flow as her defender and companion of the evening splattered and splashed, I CANT SWIM, I CANT SWIM, and finally through grim determination and pure grit reached shallow ground and pulled himself ashore and knelt, with his head hanging, catching his breath as his lady of the evening rolled over with another long sigh and curled up in a fetal position and went to sleep in the sheltering bushes of the rivers headwaters. Harry was chuckling and shaking his head, Juice heads are too much, aren’t they? They really have no class, no class at all.

He and Marion continued along the streets aware of the dryness in their throats and a yearning in their stomachs. They stopped in an all night diner and got a piece of pie with a couple of scoops of ice cream, chocolate and strawberry syrup and whipped cream, with an egg cream on the side. Marion paid the check and they continued to her place. They sat around the kitchen table and Marion lit a joint. Harry suddenly started to chuckle, That broad was somethin else. That guy needed a canoe. Marion passed the joint to Harry, then slowly let the smoke out. They should have pissoirs on the streets. Then she wouldn’t have to degrade herself just to urinate. Men can go in an alley or behind a parked car and its perfectly acceptable, but if a woman does it shes ridiculed. Thats what I loved about Europe, theyre civilized. Harry tilted his head as he looked at her and listened then half smiled and half smirked as he passed the joint back to her, I dont know if youre talkin to your shrink or a judge. There was still a little bit of the joint left and she offered it to Harry and he shook his head so she carefully put it out and placed it on the edge of the ashtray. Well, doesnt the whole thing stink? I mean its utterly ridiculous. Women arent supposed to piss or shit or fart or smell or enjoy getting laid— excuse me, I mean having sex. Hey baby, Im i

ocent, okay? Remember me? I didn’t say a word. Thats okay, I need to practice on someone. Well, go practice on your shrink. He gets paid for it. She smiled, Not anymore. You cutim loose? Not exactly. Im seeing him, but not as a patient. Harry laughed, You ballin him too? Occasionally. As the mood hits me. My folks ask me if Im still seeing him and I tell them yes so they keep giving me the fifty dollars a week for him.

Marion laughed loud and long, And I dont even have to lie to the clods. Werent you ballin your last shrink too? Yeah, but that got a little tacky. He stopped writing for me and wanted to leave his wife and straighten me out… you know, a real chauvinist. This guy is different. I see him once in a while and we have fun and theres no pressure. We just have a good time. And he still writes for tranks and downers. A couple of weeks ago we flew down to the Virgin Islands for a weekend. It was a ball. Hey, crazy. Sounds great. Yeah. So your folks are still footin the bills, tilting his head toward the rest of the apartment, for the pad and so forth? Yeah. She laughed out loud again, Plus the fifty a week for the shrink. And sometimes I do a little freelance editing for a few publishers. And the rest of the time you just lay up and get high, eh? She smiled, Something like that. You really got it made. But how come youre so hard on your folks, I mean like youre always coming down so heavy onem. They bug me with their middle class pretensions, you know what I mean? Like they’re up there in that big house with all the cars and money and prestige and collect money for the UJA and B’NAI BRITH and KRIST knows who else—howd he get in there? He/d better watch out, we gotim once we/ll getim again. Marion joined Harry in laughing, Yeah, they would too. I mean, thats the way they are. Theyll cut anybodys throat to make money then give a few dollars to the NAACP and think theyre doing the world a favor. You see how liberal they are when I come home with a black guy. Eh, theyre no worse than anybody else. Harry leaned back and stretched and blinked his eyes, The whole world is full of shit. Perhaps, but the whole world doesnt embarrass me. They have everything but culture. Theyre gross. Eh, gross, schmoss, and he shrugged and smiled, his mouth hanging loose and his eyes sleepy. Marion smiled, I guess youre right. Anyway, no point in letting them bring me down. Thats the whole trouble with pot. Sometimes I get a little paranoid behind it. Yeah, ya gotta learn how to hang loose, and he smiled his sleepy grin and snapped his fingers and bebopped his head and they both laughed, Whatta ya say we get to bed? Okay, but dont fall asleep right away. Hey, what am I? some kindda nut? They chuckled and Harry splashed some cold water on his face before getting into the bed. He hadnt finished stretching and getting comfortable when Marion was leaning over him, her face close to his, a hand rubbing his chest and abdomen, I dont know if its the pot or talking about my parents, but Im horny as hell. Whatta ya talkin about? Its me. I have that effect on broads. Im irresistible. Especially since the plastic surgeon hung me, and he started to laugh and Marion looked at him and shook her head, Dont you ever get tired of that old joke? Talk to your shrink about it. Maybe its a wish fulfillment, and he laughed again and Marion chuckled then kissed him and rolled her mouth from one side of his to the other, thrusting her tongue as deeply as possible into his mouth, Harry reacting with his and putting his arms around her and feeling her nice smooth flesh under his hands and caressing her back and the cheeks of her ass as she rubbed the inside of his thighs and gently ran her fingertips around his balls as she kissed his chest and stomach then grabbed his joint and stroked it for a moment before wrapping her lips around it and caressing the tip with her tongue, Harry continuing to fondle her ass and crotch as he squirmed and stretched, his eyes half closed, streaks of light shattering the darkness of his lids and when he opened his eyes he could vaguely see Marion hungrily gobbling his bird, his mind electric with ideas and images, but the drugs and the pleasure of the moment created an inertia that was delicious, absolutely delicious. The inertia was suddenly broken as Marion sat up and nested his bird and for hours, or perhaps seconds, he just lay there with his eyes closed listening to the exciting squish of joint against snatch—Ride a cock horse to Branburry Cross — then opened his eyes as he reached up to grab her boobs, then pull her down so he could tease them with his tongue, nibbling, chewing and sucking on them as he slid his hands up and down her back and Marions eyes were rolling back in her head from time to time as she moved and rolled and sighed and groaned and they continued their lovemaking until the dawns early light started seeping through the shades and curtains and the heat of their lovemaking cooled in the warmth of the sun and they were suddenly, and completely, asleep.