My Dear Sunny,
It's been an age since we last spoke. The last time I saw you, I was crawling out of the Kabuki Hotel with a raging hangover and whiskey on my breath.
Whoever thought karaoke was a good idea was sadly deranged and sadistic. Whichever one of us ordered the carafe of Jim Beam over a simple soju cocktail needs to be taken outside, and promptly shot.
Your hands were soft as butterflies and your kisses as pleasing as ever. But when we got too drunk to enjoy one another things just got too weird. I passed out on the polyester comforter on the bed with one shoe off and a shirt half open. You ran out to find me because you somehow got separated from me on the elevator. You returned somehow and let yourself in. I don't remember how we ever made it through the night- god knows, if there were any justice, we should have choked on our puke and freed the gene pools of the stupidity forever.
Didn't happen. We survived.
And I wonder, who else do you seduce over Jim Beam and Iron Maiden songs, at that cheesy karaoke bar in a part of town that I never go to? I will never eat Korean food again.
Take care,
Your Coworker
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I really liked the ending of the poem, it felt very real and thoughtful, and had a sense of wondering and longing that resonated. I wonder if this person has to see Sunny every day at work, and pretend like nothing transpired? Very interesting piece!
ReplyDeleteI really liked the ending, signing it as a coworker. It's such a small thing, yet it changes the whole perspective of the piece. Very interesting addition!
ReplyDeleteI love all the details interwoven throughout your piece, especially the "polyester comforter." Also, the end is interesting to, with the letter being from a coworker. I was also wondering if they had to work in the same space and continue as if nothing had happened.
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