Long Awaited Babble

Previously Charlie fell to the floor. He was with Adam up to that point. The memories were vague and short, but he thinks he has memories of the crime. He has spent the entire night tormented over the crime. He finally had accepted he had killed Michelle just in time to learn he didn’t. Charlie now hoped he was insane.

Continued

As Charlie stared at the oil stain he noticed he was standing in he had an onslaught of thoughts race through his mind. He found it impossible to focus on a single question as he only got glimpses here and there. He knew he needed to know if Michelle was dead or not. He knew he needed to know if he killed her if she is dead. He knew he needed to know what Adam was exactly. He knew what he needed to know.

Charlie looked up after settling on the perfect words for his question to Adam only to find himself alone in the alley. Adam was gone. There was no sign of him every being there in fact. “Did any of that happen” he asked himself remembering the lighter trick his mind played on him earlier.

His night was bizarre and it was looking like the day will surpass the night on the weird scale. He really missed sanity. He wondered if anyone else was having this type of day or if he was cursed alone. He noticed the other month that bad days were universal so it could be true of bizarre days as well.

Charlie really needed a cigarette more than he never needed one in his life. The feeling was creeping up his fingers, through his arms and then skipping down to his knees. It was a feeling of a thousand needles pricking lightly in rapid succession from under the skin. It was moving up and down his limbs in circular motions almost massaging him. It was telling him that it would leave unless he lit a cigarette. What choice did he really have?

He reached into his left breast pocket to heed his addiction’s call, but he found a pack of his wife’s cigarettes. They never smoked the same brand although each tried the others once. It did not work. She was a menthol person and he was a full strength filter less man. The menthols were mocking his jones.

He put the pack back in his left pocket and removed the pack he had in his right breast pocket only to be faced with the same dilemma. While holding it he checked his left pocket to make sure it was actually two packs of the same brand and not more of his mind’s cruel games. It was two packs.

Charlie stood in the alley with the worst problem he had faced yet. He had to have a cigarette. He had no choice in the matter and he had in his possession 40 cigarettes. The jones should be resolved, but the 40 were menthol and he felt menthols tasted like drinking orange juice after brushing your teeth. And why did he have 40 menthols anyway?

Charlie’s addiction took over his body for just long enough to rip open the pack of menthols and light one. The taste was worse than O.J. and toothpaste. He almost threw it on the ground until those tiny needles began their magic once again. Amazing the power addiction has sometimes.

“Please tell me Adam has not got you smoking menthols.”

The voice again was not in his head. He really missed when they were. He could write off everything as insanity as long as it was all mental, but now they are out and that was not making him happy. Ironically the menthol was.