Empty Pockets Read Online Free Page A

threw up again. The odor of her vomit assaulted her and other odors and she stood up, feeling better, yet drained, somehow outside her own body. She went to the outside door without washing her face. Douglas wasn’t in the lobby. She went back in, crying again. There was stuff on her blouse that she scraped at. It wouldn’t come out. She drenched it in water and tried to stop crying. She tore her blouse, going wild for a moment.
    â€œThat filthy bastard,” she said, “that filthy rotten bastard.”
    Gradually she calmed down, her mind going quiet, then clear. She stared at her face in the mirror.
    â€œYou’re not a bad-looking girl,” she said. “You’re not at all.”
    She felt a charge of tension everywhere around her but not inside. She felt quiet inside. She brushed back her hair with her hand and then went out.
    Douglas was standing by the couch, her coat draped over his arm. Her suitcase rested on the floor.
    â€œI’ve called the airport,” he said. “I’ve made reservations on a ten o’clock flight. Let’s go out to dinner and maybe a movie.”
    â€œA movie,” she said.
    â€œSomething,” he said, “or walk around.”
    She took the coat from him, looking at his face, somehow looking at exactly what his face presented, capturing not his gestures or how he seemed to be, but exactly those few lines coming out from the corners of his eyes, lines she had never seen before, age lines, he had actually aged, she had never noticed it before.
    â€œNo,” she said, “nothing. I don’t think I’d like to wait. I’d like to catch the train.”
    â€œAre you sure?”
    â€œYes,” she said.
    â€œAre you all right?”
    â€œYes,” she said. “You go on.”
    â€œI’m sorry,” he said.
    â€œSo am I,” she said.
    â€œDoes the train leave this afternoon? I mean is there one?”
    â€œIt doesn’t matter,” she answered. “Please go.”

Country Wedding in the City
    T hen she walked over to the groom.
    â€œYou fuck you shit you piss ass stink! Blow my hole!”
    â€œWeow!” said he. “Are you ever primed!”
    â€œGood luck, George,” friends called out.
    Did they all live in the country?
    Nope.
    Only Dave, the best man. Dave owned a Peugeot. That afternoon he got in the back and shot up 500 mgs of paraboxelynic, flew out the window and slowly rose up over the city into the country fair air of the sky.
    â€œWhatcha doing up there, Dave?” friends cried out.
    Smilin’, Dave waved.

Seize the Time
    J ohn, an active university revolutionary, learned Steven’s ideas of the world were different from his. Since John liked Steven’s style, his name, his ability to hustle chicks, he set out to educate Steven in revolutionary cause and rhetoric. Steven, he felt, would look good on the barricades.
    Steven, however, resisted, insisting against John’s personality. Yet he found himself naturally curious about a worldview of which he self-admittedly knew so little. And so, after a normal time resisting, Steven finally said, “Okay, I’ll go to the next meeting of the collective. I’ve nothing to lose. If there I see that what you believe helps man to become a better man, I’ll accept your arguments and join the movement.”
    John, however, when he heard this, far from being delighted, was deeply depressed, saying to himself, If Steven goes to a meeting, sees the inexperience on the faces of the kids, fails to see the humor in the almost inane repetition of all the raps going down, he’ll end up thinking all revolutionary ideas are frauds.
    Turning to Steven, he said, “No, man, it’s not a good idea. Just listen to me, read what I have to give you, then think on it.”
    â€œNo,” Steven answered, “I want to see for myself.”
    A few nights later Steven sat in on a meeting. At first,