This is an excerpt from a piece from a Vodou priest at Knitta Please.
Working overnights are gruesome. People are different when the sun goes down. Forget phases of the moon, planetary alignments and stellar influences, people do in the dark what they wouldn’t normally do in the light of day. Without the sun to witness, as if the moon cared less, I’ve seen man, woman and child in the grips of one nighttime habit or other. Usually, I’m pretty OK with what goes on. Usually, their glazed eyes and slurred words become a river of unconscious thought. Their babblings become a prophetic tongue, the science of decoding the pickled Pythias.
This is how my story starts. Two young chaps come in from a night of tippling, sit down at my counter and start yelling. Working in a diner, overnight, this is common, and eyes aren’t batted at it. I give them waters, if that could help, and take their order. Conversation changes between the two of them frequently, greased by the liquid excess pumping through their veins.
Then, as it always does in the small community I live in, they see someone they’d gone to school with. It’s-been-forever’s and It’s-good-to-see-you’s were exchanged and conversation between the two chaps stuck to that. Like two old men recounting their spent youths, these gumshoe yuppies blurted out a Schindler’s List of people they’d known, saw, fucked, or hung out with during their formative years. Then, because I was close enough to spy into their conversation, one asks me, “So, are you in school?”
The question seemed far out of understanding for me. Could they not see my age? Could they not see the transparent mortarboard hanging over my head?
As I looked up from my task at hand, I answered them, “Nope, I’ve actually already graduated.”
Next, inevitably, “So, why are you working here?”
To read the rest of the story click here. Yes, there are shamans.
From now on I’m going to publish the things I enjoy reading, so you can enjoy them too. I don’t believe in a full “reblog” because I want you to actually go to their site and learn to love them. You will always have to click over to get to the good stuff.
I don’t get reimbursed or compensated for this. I just like sharing what I love.
I will still be publishing my own original work every Wednesday and, sometimes, more often. Now go read Knitta Please.