PRECIOUS AND FEW…

Wednesday night – May 6

Been walking around now for about an hour.

The streets are empty.

Got nowhere to go. All my friends went home.

The weather is getting warmer, so glad the winter is over. The snow was all fucked up.  Too much of it if you ask me. But now, at two a.m. all I wanna do is be alone.

Life sucks.

Nobody cares.

Mom and I had a big fight.

Girlfriend won’t talk to me.

I’m hungry.

There’s a greasy spoon open 24 hours down on seventh avenue and ninth street. Smiley’s is open, maybe I’ll grab a slice. But the walk is so far.

Seems like all I do is walk.

As I pass Farrell’s I see a few guys at the bar.

I’m too young to get served.

Rangers lost tonight to the Caps; they trail the series 3-1.

These guys in here love the Rangers.

All I do is wave to them, they wave back,  I keep walking towards the park.

Crossing the circle I make my way along Prospect Park West. I’ll walk to ninth street, hang a left and go down to seventh avenue. Ninth street at night scares me. Never know who you bump into.

One time these three kids tried to jump me on eighth avenue. I ran from them.

Down on the corner of ninth street and seventh avenue I see some guys outside Smiley’s.

They’re laughing. Having a good time.

There’s a cop car parked at the bus stop.

I peek into Smiley’s, it’s pretty empty except for the cops.

I slide my hand in my pocket and pull out some money.

“Two slices and a small coke,” I say to the guy behind the counter.

“Coming right up,” he answers as he throws the slices in the oven.

I sit down at a table and stare out the window. The kids are still outside. I see one chase the other out to the street. Think they are the 7th avenue boys. We had a fight with them in the winter. Hope they don’t recognize me.

To my left are two cops eating their pizza. I’m safe. They don’t talk very much to each other. Cops are quiet until they tell you to get off the corner. All they do is chew and sip their drinks, enjoying their pizza.

I notice a tall black kid walk in and order. He looks at me.

“Red, that you?” he asks.

I look at him.

Wanting not to say anything I have no choice.

“Yo Keith, what’s up?”

-Red

Hoops135@hotmail.com

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