Masters Of Revels

MASTERS OF REVELS

TODD RYKACZEWSKI

WORD REVOLT, LLC.

ATLANTIC BEACH, FL

Copyright © 2019 Word Revolt

All Rights Reserved

Masters Of Revels Chapter One

The building is a light mustard color on the second story and smoky sand on the first.Thin, black, cast iron lights cheaply hold up the plaster walls full of seashells. Besides that there isn’t much importance or feature to the building. Other than the main character that lives there and is on his way getting ready to do nothing at all. Maybe go to work or read something on social media that has little to no importance to his personal goals.

He is the kind of guy that wears a fitted hat all year round while living inFlorida. The style fits the day, as the weather is uncommonly cold and feeling aggressive. Contemplating his tea and a bit annoyed about being out of coffee there isn’t much promise for the day. The cloned black chair that he sits on is uncomfortable and only holds purpose for a few moments in the morning and some occasions to remove dirty shoes. After some time is spent looking at the back of a grey roof that belongs to the mega store that this apartment faces he stands.

Short stature grows restless and the dog starts to act like it needs attention and movement. The dog is brown and little and not really important to him. The walk around the block on streets with no sidewalk is slow but short. He will return to his mustard colored home, leave and then repeat the walk later in the day. His second walk will have the addition of a navy blue backpack that bounces slightly with his walk and scares the cat away from the street.

Now, unable to taste the quality of each pothole his walk staggers with a sense of loneliness and wonder. He seems to not care and turns another bend. Quickly tiring from having to walk the dog, buy shoes and have involvement outside of his bleak black chair. He buys a car and impounds the dog. Turning all of his working time to the restoration of a red Dodge Charger. It’s a classic but an off year that’s not worth much. He figures people will destroy it for him over time and didn’t feel the need to spend money on a dream. The car is ok and missing all of it’s weather strips. This allows the windows to rattle over the potholes. In his mind this is a safety feature. With all the bridges in Florida it’s nice to know how easy it would be to remove the windshield if the car took a wet strip and became swallowed by water. This new weight parked in spot 27 is heavy with a great power of attachment to the ground on which it sits. Not quite understanding the responsibility of this machine the car mostly sits unless he is going to work. No longer taking the bus he has found that he has been getting to work earlier than usual. Finding the time shift a little positive and negative in nature. Work is happy and he feels like that adds to his anxiety and annoyed demeanor.

Escaping to home from his hourly wage he finds peace in doing nothing. Not going out into the world to be with a lover but to rest. Ignoring the dirty oil and sun filled evening, food is had but tastes sour over his dirty teeth. Clothing becomes a symbol of respect for others and seems daunting to keep professional. He places his headphones over a pair of personal ears and tries to forget everything that’s prevalent. Cash remains low, long and full of chance of being rhetorical and related to training video pleasure. Three hours is denied for a later experience while our man falls asleep without his dog.

In his dreams he sits and rehearses episodes of a more adventurous life. Eventually, feeling a human connection to the otherwise fictional people. Those, in their defense, live and die in a twenty-minute life span. Exhausting the rotation of time, not to mention its attention span. Rushing ten PM and floating out the bent body in a form of a conjuring simpleton while splitting the sections of desired and undesired actions by the angled partitions of bone and cloth. Repeating the pattern, flat-bent-flat-bent-flat-bent. Veracious variations like last Thursday made falling into such a pattern of a stop and then go mad very easy. Only to feel predictable as the body twitched while a star flashed. It made no sense to toss the dream down the steps and through a glass of wine. Awake in time to make it to work, the drinking started and by the third glass the impending cubicle and surrounding obligation felt less daunting.

A year goes by.

Time had ran away at some point or perhaps died behind the couch. This concern did not reflect the bending pattern of sleep and so was not given any notice. Too many choices only caused creative thinking that would lead to work and eventually more unpaid work; valueless in design, the direction not worth the effort. Stale became where the heart really is. He would address the loneliness by drawing comfort out of routine. Observing, the ugliness chasing a life full of will, will get someone to have a nervous breakdown. Or so we are thought we are told. He never judges and in return only envies the passion or lack of distraction others display as pill induced. Capable of years in a salt mine and still wanting salt on their food when

they get home to the homes they don’t own. Maybe liking paper is what made him different?

Enjoying the silence with his cup of tea and newly found freedom from it he felt the chair that he was perched on was openly mocking him. Liking this idea a little too much he joined in with the chair and its disposition. Sipping in almost contentment in a moment he considered worth enjoying a neighbor’s voice breaks through the time and shatters peace with a firm backhand. The only time when he could enjoy the world without Hims, not to mention Hers or It’s and Them! A cellular phone call turns into an argument wanting to disrupt the Karma he found out of living alone. In the third loneliest city and second worst suburb for those who enjoy the great outdoors. No one was ever out and if they were, they were alone. If one likes nature and people they move to the town over or even further than that. We displace so many birds due to pollution and over development of factories. Other towns need umbrellas made of tin to keep the winged rats from falling out of the sky and onto their heads from starvation and air pollution.

He stands flustered by the phone call and walks inside to where it’s normal, plain, calm and conversation free. He can breathe there and hear his heartbeat. After a few moments to himself in a windowless, mirrors and white eggshell bathroom, he goes to bed around eleven AM on a Saturday.

The alarm goes off and he is quick to feel a sense of pattern and purpose only to slowly but with minimum effort feel a yelling voice in his head that is ignorant and a borderline bigot. His mind finds the day only when he turns his head on the pillow and faces his forehead forward towards the outside. Only in that window frame does he find truths in every action that is or will be that day. A Leaf sails by the window and out of sight. He breaks down. With only two personal arms to comfort his mental ailments the thought of pity would only add to his perception of what’s wrong with the human condition. Juniper waits for a moment to feel the tear roll down his cheek and then decides that’s enough. Wipes his face dry straightens the given body on the bed and continues to wipe clean opinion and reflection. Being careful to not transform fast truths into a marathon when the body has just appeared to the day and would prefer to hide from further prosecution. He wouldn’t dare talk out loud to himself out of fear of catching yellow tape and causing a crime scene.

He, the man takes his own silent advice and meets the day as a man. Everything becomes simple again. He knows how to run him and chase things or not chase things he does not want. His inner face turns away while his eyes feed into the commissioned mind. Advising further in shorthand how this body and he would live a long and uninterrupted life. Effort becomes a matter of passing off what’s killing the silence that offers or promises nothing. He sits up in bed proud to have found a sound conclusion on another day that wasn’t as deceiving as to provide any providence.