A Night’s Tale

Hello darkness, my old friend
I’ve come to talk with you again
Because a vision softly creeping
Left its seeds while I was sleeping
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence.

The thought of night always fascinates me. Mystifies me. Enrages me. Subdues me. Sometimes giving me a sense of eerie foreboding.


“Hey, your turn with the glass.”

“Hurry up! Carol’s due to arrive in a bit…”

“Damn faggot! I told him not tonight!”

“Oh c’mon… Quit yer whining! We all need the dough from that cocksucker, y’know.”


They call themselves the “Bakal Boys”. They’re creatures of the night. The night owns them. They own the night. Oblivious to the world around them, they don’t seem to care. They give company to those who need it. Love, or their version of it, to those who seek it…

… but for a price.

I have been with them for over a week now. Watching. Observing. Learning.

No one really knows them, much more understands them. What lies behind their eager faces? What reasons do they have for their wretched existence? Or is it survival?

I won’t venture a guess …

“So, you’re from the university.”

“Then you must be familiar with… what’s his name again, Bart?”

The reply jolted me. The name given flashed back memories of a time long gone from my mind. A time of warmth and affection. Of mutual trust and respect. A time most of us wish would never end.

Memories. Memories of a mentor. A confidant. A friend.

I nodded and managed a nervous smile.


“He’s a teacher of mine.”

My voice seemed to come from the pits. The abyss of uncertainty.

Suddenly, I saw his face race through my mind. Why did he look so forlorn that last time we met, as if he’s carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders? I never saw him put on a face like that. Was it something I’d said? Wait… I DID saw that face before. It was last summer. He called me at home.

“I have something to tell you, Ram.”

Were those his words? I don’t remember exactly. But I DO remember the tone of his voice. Was it desperation? No. It was a voice of a friend trying to reach out. A voice asking me to be there for him.

“I’m afraid this’ll be my last semester here.”

Why didn’t I listen beyond his spoken words?

Stupid. Why didn’t I see what he meant? Why?


“A generous tipper, that one.”

I was snapped away from my reverie, suddenly propelled to the reality staring me right in the eyes. I braced myself for the worst revelations I was unfortunate to discover.

“Yeah, but man! He stinks big time!”

The chuckling slowly reached a crescendo…

“At first I was kinda felt awkward with him groping me and stuff. I was like ‘eewwww’!”

“Talk about Arnie Fuckin’-Schwarzenegger wanting his way with you! Hahahaha!”

“… but we he starts moaning, maaaaaaaan, he’ll give Jenna Jameson a run for her money!”

“Jenna Jameson my ass! Hahahahaha! A cat in heat, more like!”

A lull…

“Where the fuck is he now, by the way?”

Eerie silence. Screaming realization. I never knew him… or did I care?

“He’s gone. Killed himself. A year ago.”

I turned my back and walked away. Away from the laughter. Away from them. Away from the truth.


About Seeing with Brahmin eyes
My sense of humor can be keen, sarcastic, silly or corny -- sometimes all at once. I enjoy meeting new people with no preconceived ideas about what or what is not possible. You get much more out of life by being open minded and willing. I'm an easy going, good-natured person who loves life and loves people. I'm both optimistic and realistic and pretty objective when it comes to assessing situations, events, etc. In general I am a very positive person and you'll usually find we with a smile on my face.

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