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- Sep 14, 2022
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- #1
Beauregard Pinckney
"What's the note say?" she said, prying for an answer. I stood silent, staring at the droplets of water form on the window, fogged from the rain of the previous night. I take a long drag of my cigarette. "Come on, don't leave me hanging! What's it say?" She giggles out, her mood complete opposite of mine. Yet I do not judge her, for I know she cannot see my face. I look away from her. Yet, I see her face, through the subtle reflections of the mirrored glass. She was never the type for subtlety. "Beau, if you don't tell me what it says, I'll yank it from your hand!" she jests, her French accent echoing
through the enclosed room. My computer left open, my book partially written. "It's my mother," I say taking a long drag of my cigarette, the stale smoke filling the room and my lungs all the same "She's passed away." And with that, I was the last Pinckney left. At first, it was just what the paper had said... but my speaking it made it true. It's now realer than real. Unable to even be pretended. She's silent. So am I. I take a long drag of my cigarette as she exits the room in the quiet, stale like the smoke I smoke, wafting out into the hall, silence and smoke, hand-in-hand, freshly eloped with my despair as their steeple. I am the last Pinckney. The last Pinckney is me.
through the enclosed room. My computer left open, my book partially written. "It's my mother," I say taking a long drag of my cigarette, the stale smoke filling the room and my lungs all the same "She's passed away." And with that, I was the last Pinckney left. At first, it was just what the paper had said... but my speaking it made it true. It's now realer than real. Unable to even be pretended. She's silent. So am I. I take a long drag of my cigarette as she exits the room in the quiet, stale like the smoke I smoke, wafting out into the hall, silence and smoke, hand-in-hand, freshly eloped with my despair as their steeple. I am the last Pinckney. The last Pinckney is me.
"Benefactors not like Rome," she argued to me, her accent thick with a newfound understanding of the English language, "Benefactors more like China. A strong dragon, not to be trifled with. An eternal empire that reigns through generation." She seemed set on her thoughts, already. Still though, I slide my book over to her. The title embossed onto the cover, newly printed and freshly approved "How'bout you do some reading before you argue against the points in the book." I motion to her again, she rolls her head back to take a swig of her artificial brew, her eyes following the roll before she exhales loudly "Fine. I think you think too much. Make it too complicated." She has a point, there. I oft let my ideas slip through my brain and out of my mouth before processing them, myself. "That's what the book is for," I say, finishing my thought aloud while answering her, "Hopefully make my thoughts more digestible, easier to pick apart." She remains silent, simply nodding along. "I'm telling you, read it and you might think a bit different." And it's true. The Benefactors can be both an eternal dragon, and Roman. The Benefactor's Empire span entire worlds, it would not be unfair to say they are both an Ancient China and a New Rome.
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