"Issue 46"
By Sammy
“Damn bro, you’re getting married! Congrats!”
“Thanks, bro, I’ll be in touch.”
“Yo, Sammy, what u doin Saturday? ”
“Nothin much.”
“Word? Lets meet for lunch!”
“Yeah sure”
“i’ll pick you up”
“Aite, i’ll be up front.”
Its been three weeks and some change.
Well more appropriately its been thirteen years since we met.
two strangers in sixth grade until Mrs Clark made arrangements and paired up our desks.
I'd stare at his sketch.
A vehement effort of an X-Men etched…
on the upper left of his loose leaf sheet.
“That dude Beast?"
“Yeah, man, yeah he is!”
We bonded over comics, Inseparable...ever since.
“Yo I got the New Gods, issue 46!”
Perfectly printed. Gorgeous. Mint. Colors popped as Orion socked Kalibak with his orange fist
Polyester propped with a thin filmy layer of gloss for grip.
It WAS life.
We boarded our cosmic jet.
(ad)Venturing; but never further than Clark’s Convenient store off Neponset
The warm August breath; aroma of overcooked franks and barbecue smoke.
And no matter the coal, I could never quite recapture the scent
Green pasture lens. All of youth’s drawn in optimist gold. We were best of friends. Inseparable.
But the machination starts when imagination’s lost
Lost. It was hidden in the the shades, off in the corner. The path of age has saturate the gloss.
There were spats of grey across.
The film…
The film became grainy..tattered. Pages gone.
Something’s missing
The texture, pasty. Worn. Abrasive, even. The faces fading off…
..faces fading...gone...
that’s life.
We knew, deep inside, where we’d always ended up.
In the end, even best friends can lose that sense of touch
Written to the topic: "You have lost your sense of touch"