Part I: Ignoratio   1. Her name is Heather. She doesn’t say much when I first enter the cab. She sits, twiddling a lock of her short light brown hair around her slender knotted fingers. She flashes a half-smile as I take my seat, the cold leather sagging and grunting beneath my weight. I fiddle with the dial on the headphones, adjusting the volume to an escapist’s ideal. Lose myself to the forbidden drumbeats and blaring guitars of songs that help me to forget. I shake my he...

Mr. Laghi, Fuck this perfect little world. Do you know what it’s like to deal with afflictions of addiction and rotting cynicism? Do you? Do you know what it’s like to wake up every morning and find that everything you thought you knew has been stripped from your very essence? Within the confines of my own addiction, I struggle to understand just why she left, what exactly it is that I did. Fuck this perfect little world.  You want the truth about existence? Then look at you...

Part I: Ignoratio   1. Her name is Heather. She doesn’t say much when I first enter the cab. She sits, twiddling a lock of her short light brown hair around her slender knotted fingers. She flashes a half-smile as I take my seat, the cold leather sagging and grunting beneath my weight. I fiddle with the toggle on the headphones, adjusting the volume to an escapist’s ideal. Lose myself to the forbidden drumbeats and blaring guitars of songs that help me to forget. I shake my ...

There's a stranger sitting in my usual stool at the Lion's Head. I haven't seen him before, but I recognize the shirt he wears: a red t-shirt with an imprinted orange life vest on it and a monogram bearing the word 'Alvarez'. I order another San Mig. Having been claimed by this delectable elixir, I find it difficult to order anything but. "I've seen those shirts everywhere. What's it mean?" He munches on a handful of oriental crackers and nurses a draught Heineken. "Our whole family came. So ...

White light spills through the portholes on the heavy steel double doors, casting two perfect circles on the floor before us. Danny had to smuggle me down there, five decks below the Lion's Head, taking me through dark halls and steep stairwells. "Too many cameras", he had said gesturing to the little red lights in the darkness as we pass two in a darkened corridor. Danny new these paths well, having spent eighteen years on the same ship you get know all its nooks and crannies. He knew every ...

Back on the ship after a solo ride on the tender and a quick shower in the stall that has knobs and levers and buttons that are impossible to figure out, turn this way to get hot water but only a split second, I head down to my favorite pub and open my daily tab with a San Mig. Damn this beer is fucking addicting. Friends of Bill W might be getting a new member today. The gears start grinding in this twisted brain, a light bulb flashes its brilliance over head. Idea! I have got to find my bro...

It's been a long day, but at least the Lion's Head is always here for me. "You seal the deal yet, Ricky?" I ask, taking my stool at the bend in the bar. Danny smiles whimsically as we both wait for Ricky's answer. "I take it that's a no then?" "Yup. I told you she was a tease." He shakes his head then cracks a forced smile. "San Mig me Danny. So, who is she? Is she a crew member?" "Yeah. Her name is Ana. Tiny little thing." "Where does she work. May be I've seen her." "I doubt it. She's part ...

Singled out against the backdrop of Plexiglas and a pristine oceanic sunset, I made my way across the deck with a slight natural sway and White Russian in hand. The night was young, the trip even younger. Had I known what I was setting sail for, I could have prepared better for the excursion. For now, though, the simple mixer would have to suffice. The deck was empty for the most part, the majority of the pleasure seekers having opted for dinner as the sun continued to fall further beneath th...

It’s always been about the ritual. It overwhelms her, intoxicating every pore of her body. Sexual release by all means for her. Even now, as she meticulously cleans her tools, she could feel the ebb and flow of orgasmic bliss. Her eyes roll back in her head as she watches the blood wash down the drain. She loved the feel of cold steel against her naked flesh. She hoped he had felt the same. Taking the dull side of the knife and dragging it against her skin from mid-thigh up to her breasts bef...

Left foot, right foot. Sixteen paces, or is it seventeen? It’s sixteen paces, seventeen if I side step across the hall at the cheap Monet lithograph that hangs between my mother’s room and mine. Did I take that side step? I’m not wearing any shoes, and in this house the halls are carpeted with hardwood runners measuring one foot in width from the walls. I can’t walk on carpets without shoes. There’s dirt in the fibers and it will get under my skin and give me an infection. I look back and vis...