Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters



While Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters
Sons of bankers, sons of lawyers
Turn around and say good morning to the night
For unless they see the sky,
But they can't, and that is why
They know not if it's dark outside or light
     --Elton John, Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters


He sat in the law library. A young law clerk. Alone.

Lights fought the night pouring in the skyscraper windows, but they did not back turn the tide.

Books stacked four deep were piled at his hands. One case referenced another, which referenced another, which referenced another. The layers sank too deeply for his tired brain to handle.

He stomach squeezed to think about going back to the senior partner again. One berating in front of the smirking client was enough. Contrary to popular belief, you could NOT find a case for any proposition. Let him dig through the horrid cases.

Sometimes shit just doesn't exist. Sometimes you can't get there from here.

Or maybe he shouldn't be in law school after all.

He stood by the window high over the unfamiliar streets. Skipped dinner gnawed at him. The empty hotel room would be waiting, and more impossible tasks after four hours of sleep. He was probably too tired to cry, even if he were so disposed. But another glance at the pile of books pushed him close.

Marveling at the thousands of lights, he switched the room to dark.

So beautiful to be standing on the 65th floor. Almost worth it.

Almost.

When his head crinkled into the hotel pillow, the sparkles stayed with him for what was left of the night.

6 comments:

the walking man said...

I think you understand my sleep patterns now. This morning was so clean and clear and crisp, the colors so vibrant and layered I could feel each texture. Then by sun up it was cloud covered and gray nicely textured but no where close to the beauty of the night time lights.

The young clerk was right "sometimes you just cant't get there from here."

Oddyoddyo13 said...

Whew. Poor guy. I'm exhausted just reading this. Great job Jason!

February Grace said...

Just. Gorgeous.

There is little I love more than tying music and stories together- you do it here with consummate skill.

Such a gift, Jason. Thank you.

I'm thankful for, among other things this year, that in a very lucky, serendipitous moment, I stumbled upon this place.

~bru

Seré said...

Ah, the clarity of the night comes with a price, doesn't it? Such precision and grace in your writing, Jason. Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours.

Lee said...

I am a big Reg fan and Taupin is a fantastic lyricist!

Jason, I gather this was written from first hand experience. You made stomach tighten and I too have been on the verge of tears and yet too tired to cry.

Loved the beauty of what was left of the night.

Happy Thanksgiving ~.

jason evans said...

Walking Man, you describe it very beautifully.

Oddyoddyo13, it WAS exhausting. In 1994.

Bru, glad you like these too! Songs can be even more power prompts for me than photos. What I really wish is that I could write more scenes in actual places. On location.

Thanks, Sere. :) That's a wonderful compliment. Hope you had a great Thanksgiving too. (And yes, it does have a price.)

Lee, yes, I was the law clerk. Back in 1994, I was working for a crazy dude. I was assisting on a trial in Atlanta. That was the end of a really rough day. Even worse, the research projects were ludicrous. Totally unimportant, in reality.