"What If I was binge drinking absinthe and decided to write a short story?" "Hemmingway wrote drunk all the time... he said that he wrote drunk and edited sober." "I was watching Sand Lot tonight, and in the end when everyone grows up and goes their separate ways I almost cried... just that loss of childhood that you never get back... it really reminded me of college. We could probably make a movie about our college years. We had the best group of friends." "Without bumble bees all of the lilacs will die and Jeff Buckley's soul won't be able to walk thru the lilac fields and make lilac wine anymore..." "Well I think I'll write a short story about Jeff Buckley's soul making lilac wine... make sure that you make sure he is still wearing his water logged boots that he drowned in in the Mississippi."
I lost myself on a cool, damp night
I gave myself in that misty light
I was hypnotized by her strange delight under a lilac tree
I made wine from a lilac tree
I put my heart in it's recipe
because it makes me see what I want to see, be what I want to be
And I think more than I want to think, I do things I never should do
I drink much more than I ought to drink, because it brings me back you
Lilac wine, is sweet and heady like my love
lilac wine- I feel, unsteady
like my love-
Listen to me... I cannot see clearly,
isn't that she? coming to me, nearly here...
Lilac wine, in my veins, yeah you're so sweet and heady
where's my love? Lilac wine, oh you make me feel so unsteady
where's my love?
Listen to me, why is everything so hazy?
Isn't that she? Or am I just going crazy?
Oh how you tricked me, liquid bastard
Lilac wine...
I feel unworthy, of my love
feel unworthy,
of my love
It's a damp, drizzling, cold day in mid-May. Our main character sits at a desk by a large, French window, on the second floor of a three-story townhouse. The light that comes through is a grey-white, and rain drops splatter and stick to the panes of the window. Looking out the window, the author can see a red bike anchored across the street under a sapling that now blows in the wind and rain. A couple holding hands and walking under a single umbrella walk together down the street. The main character, his name is James.
James happens to notice the bright red boots of the female passerby and stands to look out the window onto the street below. The woman and man that walk together, hand in hand, appear to be laughing at something. Their umbrella blows inside out in the wind, and they run down the street. There is a crack of thunder and James sits back down at his desk in the guest bedroom/office where he often likes to sit alone at his laptop writing short stories. On this particular day, James happens to be listening to Jeff Buckley. Although he would consider Jeff Buckley to be one of his favorite artists, he especially loves listening to his music in rainy weather, and in the spring when the lilacs bloom... when the world feels new again and the scenery is romantic- the haziness of the blooming flowers in the mist and rain. The way that couples seem to connect in the Spring. Although winter is the perfect opportunity for cozying up together by a fire at home, and although summer is the perfect time to frolic and play all night, there is something so inviting in the way of love in late Spring. It's as though the rain calls one to take cover where ever they can in the midst of an on-going storm. The thunder and lightening often make for exciting evenings when a date night is wrapping up, and the cool nights are perfect for cooking hearty dishes before the summer palate of salads and grilling takes over dining in. James is hopelessly alone though, having given up on sharing any of these moments with a significant other years before. Instead, James lives inside of his head thinking of how pleasant life would be to have a girlfriend to share romantic moments with. He doesn't know why he tortures himself by listening to Jeff Buckley when he is feeling particularly melancholy, but the music makes him feel alive, sending a shiver up his spine and making the hair on his arm stand up. He takes off his glasses and goes into the bathroom and stares at his reflection in the mirror.
His gut is a little bit bigger than it was three years ago, and he has more lines around his eyes, which are especially noticeable when he smiles at himself. The lines above the bridge of his nose are especially apparent when he frowns now, and as he leans closer into his reflection, he notices white hairs amongst his light brown ones. He grabs a couple of advil out of the cabinet (low pressure systems always give him headaches) above the sink and gulps them down with some tap water. He takes another look at himself as he sighs, and turning on his heels, he turns to face the door and flicks off the light switch. He returns to his computer desk and takes a seat. "When the fuck did I get old?" he says out loud to only himself. It has been years since James had a proper girlfriend. In fact, it has been over five years. The last girl that he dated broke his heart... she cheated on him with a friend that he introduced her to at a work dinner party. He sometimes had suspicions about her fidelity, especially towards the end of their relationship when she became distant and started acting shady with her phone and email. However, he gave her the benefit of the doubt because he loved her and trusted her.
Then one day he found out that she had been a previous stripper at Sapphire lounge. He struggled to accept the fact that his picture perfect girl friend had a dirty past. He also found out via a text thread in her phone (she had the dude's name under a fake girl's cover-name so James never clicked on the text thread when he had previously scrolled through her phone). Needless to say, he dumped her ass in a heartbeat and never looked back. Looking back hurt to much.
Now he sat at his computer listening to 'lilac wine' and wanting to die. He thought of ways to kill himself... K-hole, ODing on molly, slitting his wrist in the claw-foot bathtub...
He sat there alone and began to cry. Suddenly James heard the sound of a guitar behind him and turned around to find the spirit of Jeff Buckley sitting on his bed. Jeff buckley was a thing of beauty. James suddently considered becoming gay.
Jeff buckley had on his water-logged boots from his "accidental" drowning in the Mississippi. The boots left wet footprints underneath where he sat on the edge of the guest bed... water pooling around the soles on the dark, parquet flooring. Jeff buckley looked James dead in the eye and then stopped strumming and put down his guitar. "James," he said, "do you like lilac wine?" He pulled out a bottle from underneath the bed along with a wine opener and two glasses. "Here... it's the never ending bottle of lilac wine."
The two men got obliterated and talked about love, relationships, their depression and suicidal thoughts. Then they proceeded to blow lines of molly on top of lines of K, on top of about two bottles of lilac wine each... needless to say, James died that night, and Jeff Buckley died a second time.
They both woke up together laying in the grass of a lilac field under the late afternoon sun. Jeff Buckley and James were both lost souls, swimming in a fish bowl, year after year. And now, as they stared each other in the eyes, a single tear rolled down James's face. A single tear also rolled down Jeff Buckley's face. "James, I love you." said Jeff Buckley.
THE END
