Bottom left hand corner. The blur of what I think is a man's head. Here is his story:
Set in stone: my addiction has eaten away at the very last portion of what I would consider a soul. I thought living in Sin City would be the most glorious of occasions. I thought I would be surrounded by inspiration and would make a name for myself. Maybe even get my book published. Instead, I decided to get caught up in what I said I never would. The lights, the rush, the glory. Haven’t written for an entire year. The stacks of paper that I brought from my one story ranch style home, left behind all the way in Alexandria, collect dust on the half broken maple desk that came with my “furnished” apartment.
Tonight I lost five grand. My last morsel of money. Everything I had. And here I sit, piss poor with a half pack of cigarettes and the clothes on my back. The rent is due tomorrow and I don’t have it. My landlord is going to kill me. I knew I should have been more careful. Maybe it’s time to call it quits. Maybe Vegas just isn’t for me after all.
Going home is not an option though. I’ve been gone for too long. Packed up my typewriter and my best pair of slacks and hit the road. As I walked out the door, my wife called after me. “Jimmy, you walk out that door and you’re never allowed back here. Do you hear me!? You’re making the biggest mistake of your life.” I turned around to see her one last time. Her hair was pinned perfectly against her head. She wore a white chiffon nightgown that blew in the breeze caused both the front and the back doors being open. Our son and daughter were at her sides. They looked at me with tears in their eyes and I knew that this would be a defining moment in their lives. It pained me inside to see them so hurt and I knew then that if I left, I could never return.
I should probably hit the road before morning. I’ll take in the strip one last time and head somewhere new. Maybe I can bum some money off of my brother until I get on my own two feet. He’s always understood when I fuck up. I wish this was the first time I’ve done so though.
Vegas is such a beautiful city, but in a tainted way. The fountain at Bellagio. The Statue of Liberty. But my favorite by far is the Eiffel Tower. If anything, I have to visit it one last time. I don’t even know why I love it so much. Maybe it’s because in my journey to get away, it’s the closest thing I’ll have to the farthest place I can be.
Standing in front of this sight takes my breath away. I take a puff on my cigarette and savor the intensity. And it’s time to leave. As I turn to walk down the street toward my apartment, a bright flash blinds me and I’m left struck for a moment. I’ve just walked into a tourist’s photo. “I’m so sorry!” I say to the middle-aged couple. “No, no. It’s not a problem! You’re not even in it.” I gave them a smile and went on my way. I sure hope they’re having better luck in Vegas than me.
Created: Jul 30, 2010Document Media