Page 90 - NyghtVision Magazine Volume 3 #2

"I know why you wander," he repeated. If I "Want some tea?" he asked.
had any luck he would pass out. By the morn-
ing he would sober up, and we would never "Sure," I said, looking up from my book.
again speak of this.
For the next few moments I remained guard-
"You wander because you know you will die. ed. But for all that had happened, he was so-
You wander because you know you will die." I ber now—which meant that if he remembered
waited for him to say it again. He opened his anything at all, he would be reluctant to return
mouth as though to speak, but his head came to what had passed between us.
down hard on his arms, which were crossed
before him on the table. When the tea was ready, he placed the pot
on the table as though marking a line down
I left him there. the middle, separating my restlessness from
his own unsettledness. Not a word passed
He was still there when I got up the next between us—which was a bit odd given our
morning and dressed for class. Head down on propensity to debate philosophical and liter-
crossed arms. When I returned from class, he ary issues. Like the two people in Simon and
was nowhere to be found. On the table, next Garfunkel’s "The Dangling Conversation," we
to my empty teacup, was a copy of Moby Dick. placed a bookmarker between us, a measure of
The book faced my desk. It was open—its pa- what we had lost. “Yes, we speak of things that
per cover folded over and around its back. matter, in words that must be said. Can analy-
The first paragraph was highlighted. Clearly, sis be worthwhile? Is the theater really dead?”
this wasn't a random act. I could only con- I looked across the table at my roommate and
clude that he had left the book for me to read. he returned my gaze, each of us waiting for the
other to speak. But all the words had been spo-
Whenever I find myself growing grim ken; there was nothing more to say. “Now the
about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, room is softly faded. I only kiss your shadow,
drizzly November in my soul; whenever I cannot feel your hand. You’re a stranger now
I find myself involuntarily pausing unto me. Lost in the dangling conversation…”
before coffin warehouses, and bringing
up the rear of every funeral I meet; and The heart is a restless wanderer.
especially whenever my hypos get such Comes the nyght again and beneath
an upper hand of me, that it requires a the veil of its sadness, the wind rises
strong moral principle to prevent me from from the shadows.
deliberately stepping into the street, and Restlessly, embers of different times
methodically knocking people's hats off— and other places kindle the uneasiness
then, I account it high time to get to sea I know too well.
as soon as I can.
Disturbed by my restlessness, Thoth mumbles
I put the book back down on the table, cover beneath the quiet of his sleep. I hunger to leave
closed, facing his chair. this place and follow the wind into the nyght,
until the dawn takes my eyes again.
When my roommate returned that evening
after working out, he simply picked up the
book and placed it back into the space on his v v v
bookshelf where it had long rested.

90 | the heart is a restless wanderer