Genev

When I could no longer sit up properly in my chair I leaned my head against the bar and everything became humorous to me. The unearthly girl, I realized was a cafe customer. I had only seen her a few brief times really and each time pretentious kitsch was coming out of her mouth. I suppose her boisterous voice and her grandiose appearence made me not want to notice her, but I realized that I had. I had noticed her in the cafe smoking like the rest of them and just assumed that she was a more numinous face among many. Laughter was overwhelming, pouring from me like giddy wine. I felt like I was in the sanctity of my small apartment as I folded further into myself and slipped closer to the floor.

It was at this point I believe, although my perception was a bit hazy, that Cat introduced herself to me and offered to share her cab as she was leaving the jazz club. I think I laughed at her. I had not wanted to speak to her, but there was something else there. Even in my inebriated state I could sense that she was unlike anyone I thought she was. She still intimidated me, however I was lulled by some intuitive blessing. There was something else and it would cause me to immediatly doubt my preconceptions of humanity.

I awoke the next morning with the vague memory of the shared cab ride, my forehead against the icy window, the world spinning, Cat's voice asking me how I was doing, but I do not remember unlocking and locking my front door or curling up in my bed with my dress and rain coat still on. I had breakfast and I felt discombobulated as I drank my coffee. Thankfully, I did not have to work that day. I was even more thankful that I did not have a head ache or any real hangover, although my muscles were tense and I could have used a good hour of yoga. I practiced yoga everyday, it relaxed me and I was convinced it elongated my limbs. I felt taller everytime I stretched. On this morning I felt unusually happy I wanted to go out into the world, but I wanted to do my yoga first.

In the middle of the dancer's pose, one that had taken me many weeks to perfect, the phone rang and broke my concentration. It was Cat calling to see that I was still alive and reminding me that I had promised to have coffee with her at the cafe. I did not remember the promise, but I was glad that I had made it. I wanted to be out of the apartment and strangely enough I actually wanted to talk to someone. She also reminded me of the man that sat with us at the jazz club. Unfortunately I had no memory of anyone besides the two of us in conversation. She said he was some sort of psychadelic wierdo trying to carry on a conversation with me about yoga. Apparently, he was on a tangeant about indian spirits and somewiccan girl who was helping him to contact the other world. I realized then that much of the night was muck stuck somewhere in my brain where I would never find it.