Grandma Read the Sports Section

I was sitting alone up north drinking coffee when an old woman came in and sat across the room from me. She ordered a water and nothing else.  She took a deep breath while I noticed she opened yesterday's newspaper.  After about ten minutes she lit her last cigarette and died right there in the sports section.  No blood, no guts, just water.  Around midnight I could hear the decaying body.  Volcanoes arose from her spine. Her body shrank and melted flowing to the edges of the table.  Oceans formed, and lands formed as I sat for eons watching this spectacle.  Strange life-forms multiplied and wrote books, fought wars, and built cities.  They destroyed the cities and built them once again over dust and rubble.  And soon enough it became mundane, boring, and useless.  I went to the bathroom, came back, drank coffee, smoked a cigarette, and for some reason was drawn to look again. Nothing was there, no life.  I've missed the end of the world.  I was the last man on earth.  I walked outside into the fresh air of death, lit another cigarette and I walked off into nowhere.  Looking for life, and maybe love, with old necessities lying everywhere, anything I desired in my grasp.  I was a millionaire with nothing to buy. I bought a newspaper.  I walked to the nearest café and sat across from what I remember was a young woman.  She looked at me with pen in hand, in which I'm sure out there somewhere is an empty poem called "Grandpa Read the Classifieds."  I lit my last cigarette and all went black.  As it seems no one will ever read that poem, and another may die starving in content. Written October 31st, 2001 © on Apr 03 2002 07:33 PM PST   17 • 0 • 9