Friday, June 1, 2012

Keith; Le Déluge

Happy June! Time for the final two stories from my Memorial Day Challenge! I asked you to retweet PTKY or share it on Facebook, and in exchange I'd write a story about whatever your heart desired. Windy City Soul Club (the finest rare soul dance party in the world) asked for a story about someone that I saw at WCSC last Saturday. Here's a piece about someone I've named Keith:  

Keith can’t dance, but he sure likes to watch women who can. On this particular Saturday evening he finds himself at The Empty Bottle with a cold PBR and a dance floor boiling with bodies. He gazes at full hips swerving up and down to the heavy rhythm of the soul music. He sees the hems of their skirts ripple along with the soft crackle of the vinyl records.

He loves how these women don’t seem to give a damn about their appearance. The room is fever-hot and everyone is sticky with sweat; nevertheless, they lift their arms up high, and they don’t wipe the perspiration away as it drops from their foreheads and rolls into their cleavage. Make-up smears, fat jiggles. It’s a gorgeous sight.

Keith stays until a hand presses on his shoulder, and flushed lips whisper in his ear: “Wanna dance?”

He breaks away from her, pushes past the crowd. He likes to look. He’s afraid to touch, afraid to move.  

Finally, my lovely friend Leta is probably the biggest fan on the planet of CAPES, the Chicago superhero league that I invented. (Click the "CAPES" tag below to read the rest of the stories.) She demanded a story about a supervillain that fights against CAPES. I came up with one called "Le Déluge" (Seen on the Purple Line to Linden at about 8:35 a.m., May 31st, 2012):  

Does it look like I cower, with my head tucked down and my eyes lingering only on my lap? Do my rosy cheeks seem mild and obliging? Good. That’s what I want you to think. I don’t want any of you to see it coming.

The lines on my shirt are like the lines of my influence, except my influence is far more deeply tangled and widespread. One of these days I’ll push all that power in a grim direction. I’ll start small. A mugging-at-gunpoint. The murder of a child. But soon the crimes will gather speed and increase in frequency, until everything around you is chaos and destruction and you suffocate with horror.

This city ends when I say it ends, and not even CAPES can stop me. 

And here is the badass CAPES logo that Leta designed: 


 Fan art is awesome. 

In other news, my sister's folk band Bittersweet Drive is playing Subterranean on Sunday night! You should come. It'll be great. Also, my gogo alter-ego Blondie Saint-Shimmy is dancing with The Fortunate Sons (the world's greatest CCR tribute band) on Saturday at Orland Days! You should come to that, too. We will choogle all night long...

1 comment:

  1. CAAAAAAAAAAAAPES YESSSSSSSSSSSS

    I feel the same way about CAPES as I do about sloths, and we all know I love sloths to the point of rendering myself near-catatonic.

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