Dreamed 1984/1/18 by Chris Wayan
A friend of mine suffered a terrible accident, and now he's confined to rollerskates for life.
He's pushed the limits of his disability, learned some fine roller disco moves, but you can't spend your WHOLE life dancing under the mirrorball. And he just can't climb stairs, so buildings without wheelchair ramps are inaccessible.
That's his real tragedy. You see, he's in love with a woman whose house has three slippery front steps. I've seen him try to get in. His feet slide out, and WHAM. Hurts just to watch.
One sunny afternoon, I walk by the place and look again at those steps, the barrier to his love. I wonder--could he prevail on her (and her housemates, who'd have to concur) to carve wheel-shaped pits in the steps? Then his skates would lock in, as he climbed...
A little girl in a toy car rides by, then a boy on a tricycle. He asks me "what's wrong?"
I tell of my friend's tragic problem.
He says "Aw, that dude could go right up--I do it in my wagon all the time!" He shows me how: just zooms up to the stair from the side, where it's almost a cliff, and slams into it! Momentum tumbles him onto the top step. He uncurls from the somersault, hardly bruised at all, and says "It's easy! You just go fast, and you gotta trust you won't hit the wall."
Now I want to tell my friend both my own idea and the kid's proven technique. There's hope for his love yet!
The door opens. A tall Asian girl, VERY pretty, asks who I am. She seems to vaguely recognize me. I explain and she says "So you're here to see Rocky, then. Well, I just got in, but I want to see her too. She's in the back yard, sunning. In fact" and here she lowers her voice, "if you're very quiet, maybe we can see more of Rocky than you expected."
She leads me in silently and we crouch and peer out the back screen door. Rocky's lying on a terrace, catching the last rays of the sun. Alone, because her beloved can't reach her. She's opened her blouse and her small, perfect breasts shine gold in the low light. Below that she's in a silver-gray bikini bottom and nothing else. She sticks a hand inside it and starts stroking, pulling out and up with her fingertips over and over, slowly, delicately. Her back starts arching.
In fact, from Rocky to this girl beside me to the hard brick steps out front, this place seems like... not Rocky Horror, exactly, but at least... Rocky Relationship.
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