Mafia Man (to the rescue and the numbers game)

A bulky Filipino mafia man of 51 draws hard on a cigarette, gazes out past light green coco palms and tonal biege sand at the sun-shimmered, late-afternoon waves. He wears white: pointy shoes, slacks, long-sleeved polo; black: hair carefully parted to the right; th-r-e-e belt-bound mobile phone pouches secured to the left of a decades-cultivated, mobile gut. 28 degrees Celsius, 16.02. At an up-to-the-minute exchange rate: $ 4,312,471. Elvis Presley in the small hours on vinyl.

A Japanese couple with a combined age of 94 laugh the laugh of one, a lucid eye exchange of heart-shaped togetherness and the best shot possible at forevermore, all from a clumsily dropped envelope on a windy December’s  morning in Osaka prefecture, circa. 89. Both, had some six months before made love for the last time to long-term partners they have long since forgotten, but for the odd moment approximately three times a year. He dies first. 

An Egyptian, probably, 63; recently taken to the role of elder statesman, has his wallet at the ready. His face is made of tough, tan leather, pulled tight over the positively intrusive beak of an extinct flying creature. His large oval eyes are kindness. Inside, a painless heart is slowly giving up the fight against the four thousand chemicals inhaled four hundred times daily.

Four Asian prostitute look-alikes sip Gulps, all with up-curved, drawn-on voices sawing incessantly through sheets of aluminum. The colour is black. Black black black. A consideration in itself is that they’ve never considered the end. Everything is cyclical and interconnected. There is no death. We fear only fear.

He wasn’t given a shot at life, but when he frantically took aim and began to fire, it was fear in his eyes – there was no cause or ideology, no motivation, malice or motive but food, shelter and the most perverse logic of self-improvement. He became, something. Something dark and permanent. Something and someone sincerely.   

What happened next is a mystery for the ages. Something about interpretations, opportunists, vantage points, agendas, and self denial. Something about love. All we can clearly see is that in avoiding premature death one must take sides. And the sides taken therein are those of a circle. At the current exchange rate: $ 3,234,101. 27 Degrees Celsius.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s