Memoirs of Miracles

Bright morning sun loses its radiance striving to penetrate my grimy smoke stained windows. Dawning of a new day finds me with a new attitude unfamiliar to myself. I slowly glance around at my dreadful, disgusting looking abode. It resembles a city dump more than a dwelling, the only things missing are the Sea Gulls. The kitchen sink is running over with filthy greasy dishes. Mice and roaches feast buffet style at the weeks of overflowing garbage. A molded refrigerator and broken down stove sit in a corner. There is an old lopsided wooden table and an old rusty folding chair in the middle of the kitchen. This vile table is where I've sat and prepared the meals for the monster that lives within me. Over the years I've prepared more meals for him than for myself. I've fed this monster intravenously with a spike through my veins, through my nose with a straw, a spoon, even my fingernail. I've fed him through my mouth with a pipe and water bottle. His appetite is insatiable and he is never satisfied, the more I fed him the more he wants, but today I've vowed never to feed him again. In the small loathsome living room is a urine soiled cot with a blanket covered with stains of unborn children. Squalid, repugnant laundry is scattered throughout this eyesore of a pigpen. There is another nasty contemptible room where the porcelain God resides. I run in and make the first of many journeys to pay homage to him. I hastily drop to my knees; my innards erupt and explode like a violent angry volcano into his watery base. I listen as he makes a sloshing gurgling sound while digesting my despicable bloody fowl smelling waste. The fowl stench in the air smells worse than rotten decaying flesh. The odor scorches my nose and causes my eyes to cry, I remain on my knees motionless, feeling sick and drained. Each passing minute seems to bear more seconds than the previous. I pace the creaky wooden floor like a restive father anticipating the arrival of his first born. The reddish sun slowly retires for the evening. The monster inside me awakens again and immediately demands to be fed. My defiance and contempt infuriates him and he begins to inflect excruciating pain over my entire body as punishment for my failure to comply with his wishes. My head feels behemoth; it's as though a man is inside with a jack hammer busting up concrete. My bleeding ulcerous stomach feels as though it's tied in knots with barbed wire. My cirrhosis liver is begging for the poisonous liquid spirits it has grown accustomed for over two decades. Sweat begins to pop up like popcorn on my forehead, then suddenly chills come over my body causing me to tremble like a naked man in a freezer. Then the chills turn into hot flashes and I'm now sweating like a man in a sauna. I toss and turn on the urine stained cot where sleep is a stranger. Once again the porcelain God summons me and I respond with quick dispatch. Hastily I run in and drop to my knees just before there is another eruption of bloody lava. Painfully I stagger to my window, it is now the darkest hour of the night. Ineffectual and weak I look out and see rainbow colored people of all ages resembling zombies in a trance. They all have dark raccoon looking circles around their eyes, desiccated ashy complexions, chapped dehydrated lips, and will savage looking hair. They parade methodically , slowly dragging lackadaisically outside my window beckoning me to come out. I stand steadfast as I vow to keep the promise that I have made to myself.