Hello. My name is Cat.

    I sat in an empty IHop with John Lennon. The late night brought a thick silence to our lips, as we both pulled drags from cigarettes. He sipped his coffee - two sugars, one creamer. I drank the same but preferred to sit and stare into its milky depths.

    “I know why it rains, Cat,” he said, breaking the stillness of the moment.
    “So do I, John. It’s called evaporation.”
    “Have you ever faked a smile?”
    “Yeah.”
    “That’s what the Sun does all day long until She finally can’t stand the world’s suffering. That’s why it rains,” he proclaimed.

    I leaned back into the booth and watched John fiddle with the button on his beat-up army blazer. My mind was elsewhere, and his was there. Smoke and occasional awkward coughs filled the span of the next five minutes. My hands shook from sudden caffeine spurts.

    “Why are you here,” I questioned him.
     He put out his cigarette, crushing each spark with the smoldering butt. Straightening his glasses, he replied, “Because I’m a figment of your imagination, and you’re lonely.”
    “Oh. I’m lonely?”
    “Well, I wouldn’t be here if you weren’t. I’m postponing Yoko’s fantasies to sit here with you.”
    “Loneliness would explain so much right now. I thought your visit was just a result of a temporary lapse in sanity,” I muttered.
    “Don’t worry, love. Greatness lacks coherency. Consider yourself headed that way.”

07/30/09 • 2 notes

imojean-stafford reblogged this from blindandaimless
blanketoflights liked this
blindandaimless posted this

< >