Then I hear it. A sound from above, the second level.
“Click … click, click … click, click, click.â€
I look up. I see a haze of smoke sixty feet up hovering near the ceiling. The ceiling lights shine through the haze, creating a hellish orange glow. Then I realize what the sound is- it’s the sound of dozens of lighters firing off.
I hear a woman’s “Ahhh … ughhh … ahhh!†not from the movie, but a live voice from above. Then I hear a man’s voice: “Yeahhh take it all bitch!â€
I look up. There' s something peaking over the second floor railing above. My eyes focus. Those are a chick‘s breasts flopping over the railing. Somebody unseen is pounding her from behind. This is unrestrained chaos, blatantly defying the laws of decent civilization. I love it.
I return to the lobby. The Indian guy’s reading a magazine and doesn’t look up. Above him is a sign: “No Smoking, No Drugs, No Lewd Conduct- No Exceptions!†I walk up two flights of stairs to the upper level and push through the ratty red curtain.
I can’t see. There’s no additional lighting beyond the residual light from the movie screen below. My eyes adjust slightly, but it’s still like walking in a dark tomb. I trip on a step. The air smells different somehow, I can guess the reason, a blend of crack smoke and stale semen. I reach the top where the theater seats stop and there are two rows of metal benches like you’d find at a high school football game. In the darkness, I stumble over someone who’s on the floor with their legs sticking into the aisle. He or she doesn’t move.
“I’m very sorry, please excuse me,†I say wondering whether the legs belong to someone who’s dead or dying
Excerpt, Memo to File from Hell by Nick Andrea (Copyright 2011)
Then I hear it. A sound from above, the second level.
“Click … click, click … click, click, click.â€
I look up. I see a haze of smoke sixty feet up hovering near the ceiling. The ceiling lights shine through the haze, creating a hellish orange glow. Then I realize what the sound is- it’s the sound of dozens of lighters firing off.
I hear a woman’s “Ahhh … ughhh … ahhh!†not from the movie, but a live voice from above. Then I hear a man’s voice: “Yeahhh take it all bitch!â€
I look up. There' s something peaking over the second floor railing above. My eyes focus. Those are a chick‘s breasts flopping over the railing. Somebody unseen is pounding her from behind. This is unrestrained chaos, blatantly defying the laws of decent civilization. I love it.
I return to the lobby. The Indian guy’s reading a magazine and doesn’t look up. Above him is a sign: “No Smoking, No Drugs, No Lewd Conduct- No Exceptions!†I walk up two flights of stairs to the upper level and push through the ratty red curtain.
I can’t see. There’s no additional lighting beyond the residual light from the movie screen below. My eyes adjust slightly, but it’s still like walking in a dark tomb. I trip on a step. The air smells different somehow, I can guess the reason, a blend of crack smoke and stale semen. I reach the top where the theater seats stop and there are two rows of metal benches like you’d find at a high school football game. In the darkness, I stumble over someone who’s on the floor with their legs sticking into the aisle. He or she doesn’t move.
“I’m very sorry, please excuse me,†I say wondering whether the legs belong to someone who’s dead or dying