There's a place in everyone's heart where we store everything. It is littered with memories irrational, inane, and even the most integral part of our being. Our heart is what links us to this world. The emotions that flow from it, even after it stops flowing.

My grandmother Aponi used to tell me a story, a story of our tribe, every weekend during the summer months. I recalled the day that she looked deep into me and found my totem, the sign that was fated me by the spirits. Her eyes glazed over and refracted light in a brilliant manner. Her face had been covered in the crevices of age.

"Young Alex. I am displeased to tell you." she paused and looked at me with tears in her eyes, her hair swept across her lightly tan face in the breezy autumn wind "Your sign is of the crow of darkness. It is a sign of bad times for you, my little one." She hesitated before continuing her voice cracked as she spoke through her old age, "The crow is born to love but is also born to fight. He is not a simple scavenger for he earns what is his. And what is taken from him in death, allows him to come back as a significant force through that of his Angeni. I know not what will happen to you my Alex. It scares me to see such thing's in your future. For I love you, as much as your father and mother love you. I can only offer you the divinty of the heavens."

She ended her story at that. She just sat there in her creaking rocker and I had sat before her. Waiting for my turn to speak, like I did every time she told a story. Nothing came to mind to say though, I simply got up and left the room, confused and torn. What does this mean, unfortunately I would never know. She died that summer when I had barely turned 11. If only then I had known what was coming and had kept in my mind, instead of out of it. Though when you are little it only makes sense to believe that the road an Aponi shows you at the time, is only a road as whimiscal as the Aponi itself.


The breeze kicked in like a shotgun to the gut. The salty air had been clinging to the air around this seaport town. Everything was peaceful. My dinner lie on the kitchen table waiting to be consumed in the cool damp air. I've had my in's and out's with women. Though every time I look into the waomn's eyes next door. I get that urge. I know her boyfriend lives with her. Though I still feel it creeping over me much like this night is unwilling to let me rest in the cold by myself. The boys wouldn't understand though. No one ever really understands. When something grapples with your mind like a coyote in heat it was obviously something that was meant to be taken. This place is a shitter anyhow. Heading to the door was becoming less of an option. Though seconds ticked off the rusted arm of the clock in the kitche. I could see it through the open bedroom door. Lying with my back against the beige comforter. Time keeps ticking. We go out. It's midnight. We find a place well lit. A couple by themselves possibly, and we take what others refuse to give us. Looking at the marble that had been well placed nto the floor reminded me that this was what the price was for such beauty. It's not like many of us wanted to do it. Though what was the other option? Wait around like some shmuck who know what he talks about? It's amazing what the world would do to you when it gives you the time to think outside of your usual domain. You get into that stroll that really isn't your and it really isn't anyone else just a groove that you happen to know. Just a groove that everyone can get to. Though right now it was mine. And time was up. The digital wrist watch clamored with the alarm that it was time to do things that the night allowed us to do in its confines.