Creature hates the ocean. When we went, he wouldn’t go to the end of the pier. Water rumbled under his feet even over the roar, he heard the slabs of wood creaking and swaying. He stepped back, his Doc Martens came untied, so he tripped; no one saw. His heart slapped against his sternum. Ran his fingers through his hair, pulled up his cuffs, and sat on the nearest bench.

Rat curled up behind the passenger’s seat of the VW. 1971. Chipped, burnt red paint. His hands were shaking and his feet were dirty. The ear piece of his glasses had broken off, so when he rolled onto his side, they slid down his nose. The hole in his pants was covered with a patch of some obscure noise band. Any description of him would be inaccurate.

Moose fumbled with his snare drum. He tried to set it perfectly on the stand, even though he would be taking it off in only an hour. His sleeves were rolled above his elbows, thrift store teal. For four years, the knots built up on his head, creating a dreaded mess. They looked nice. I hoped he wouldn’t bleed tonight. He always bled.

Bear smiled. Dropped a cymbal. Forgot to tell anyone what time to show up. “Goddammit, Bear.” Laughing, he walked down the street to get a pastry from a Mexican hole in the wall bakery. Cono. Who knows what they put in those things, but they were good and they were cheap. Looking at his feet, Bear decided to stop walking around barefoot.

They all met up in front of the blue lights. Creature took off his shirt. An upside down cross was revealed, Sharpied on his chest.

God watched their shows every night.. Even He had been interconnected with the guilty pleasure He has created through time and sound. Atmosphere.

People ran from the room. I always stayed. I wasn’t afraid anymore. I had gotten used to the volume, the bruises, the shards. Rat lay on the floor, exactly where he belonged, kissing the dirt he had put there with his presence. Bear bruised his heels. Creature held his head. Moose stood up and screamed. I couldn’t tell you what was going on. Ballerinas lit themselves on fire.

“Liar”

The audience took stones to their eardrums. Music box. They were more concerned for instruments than lives. Than souls.

Rat hung from the rafters, spitting on us. Exactly where he belonged. Moose lay on the floor, lips bleeding. Bear picked up Godzilla’s body parts. Creature laughed, hugged a bystander.

I’m not sure what it was that drew me to it all. I’m not sure what it was about Rat. I’m not sure what Creature really meant when he spoke. We all loved Moose, and Bear had the hearts from them all. No one else knew. No one else could stand on the pier, shake like a tragedy, knot his hair, walk barefoot in a Broken City.

“just babies swimming blinded, gagged, a list of plans, a concrete concept of life and death”

I always stayed. I have to cut Bear’s fur, now.