its amazing the kinds of places you find waiting for you when your out very late at night, not another soul in sight. this time i think i may have hit the jackpot. theres this abandoned hawaiian themed miniature golf place on the west side of town i used to go to as a kid. its been ages since its been open, ivy plants climb the high rusted fences blocking the view inside. palm trees tower over the sides, the only remnants of this put-put sanctums former glory. i remember it as a cool shady place , all green, drowsy hawaiian music would play out of small box speakers placed around the holes. it was really something. a secret garden of sorts, with mini golf.
i found myself on the outside of the ivy walls some time around 4am last night. the place was covered heavily in shadows. from the looks of it, it hadnt been entered in years. and it was just begging me to come inside. so i climbed the fence, which was at least 10 ft tall, and found my way into the dark overgrown garden that was now Cool Crest miniature golf.
i fell hard whilst traversing downwards from the fence, and unlike one readers assertion, who commented that i was like a cat, i fell not on my feet but flat on my back. knives of pain shot through me. my punk beaten body still not fully recovered, i let out a silent scream of pain. tears poured out of my wide eyes. after the initial shock wore off, i assessed that nothing new had been broken, from what i could tell, and that other than some bruising i would be fine. i pulled myself off the ground and had my first clear glimpse of my new surroundings. it was a green paradise bathed in moonlight. almost exactly the way i remembered it being as a kid, except this time it had the wondrous depth of seclusion and the added beauty of a starry sky overhead.
not but 10 minutes later i was completely naked lying in the middle of this private paradise, just staring up at the deep blue sky. a bottle of cheap scotch and a pack of pall malls was all i had to keep me company. i couldn’t find any hawaiian music on uncle bobs laptop, which i had to borrow for the time being, but i did find an old classic i hadnt heard in years. “the Cat” by the essence (and no they are not the cure incognito). it made me think that maybe that last reader who commented was right about me. i do seem to have a lucky side to me. a certain “cat like” quality or whatever. after all the bullshit and piss ive had to go through ive ended up alright and on my feet, for the most part.
nine lives is a good thing to have, especially if your the type that keeps on dying.
– Luke Havergal
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