The Schuylkill Ocean

I'm on the porch of my apartment, it's about 7 in the morning and the street looks like Front Street under the El in Kensington. Dark from being under traintracks, busy with cars and people and shops. A middle aged black man comes up and asks me for a dollar. I tell him no. Another black man comes up to the porch with a piece of 8x10 paper decorated similarly to money and asks me to confirm whether it's a real $50 bill or not. I tell him no. A neighbor who lives in my building comes up to the porch from a party from the night before with a half a dozen people. There's too many people on the porch. I back up and scream, "If anyone doesn't live here, get off the porch." The black men leave. My neighbor and his friends stare at me.

I go back into my apartment where I begin to eat oatmeal out of my glasses and blue glass bowls. My neighbor and his friends come into the living room, talking loudly and crowding around. I ask them to leave. When they do, all my bowls and glasses are out on the floor, filled with oatmeal and water, all chipped and leaking. Upset, I go into my room where there's a big TV and I listen to the noise of the television. There's nothing on it, no static or programs, but the noise it makes when it's just On. I'm on break at work and I'm home, I only have a half an hour and I'm trying to figure out how many minutes have actually passed. My mom calls me and tells me to meet up with her because she just got out of a doctors appointment in a building close to mine on Powelton Ave. I tell her I'd like to, but that I have to get back to work.

When I do get back to work, I'm trying to figure out how late I am, because I ended up taking a nap too. I see Chris Pasquerello at work and I ask him to help, but he seems very busy. I see my mom sitting down at a table with Allie Manning and another man asking me to sit down and eat. I tell her I can't and I have to go back to work.

I find Kat, my Assistant Team Leader and ask how much work I missed on my break. We're outside the Philadelphia Museum of Art, in the back, and there's some construction going on. It's related to Whole Foods, either that or some other big company. The Schuylkill River is actually the Schuylkill Ocean and this company that I'm related with is dumping 60 million tons of water into it. When they do, the ocean overflows and flows into the fountains of the art museum and then down the steps. I want to go into the water, but when I do I see it's murky and brown with soil and I don't want to be in it anymore.

"it's a good thing I woke up before they poured the cement in my coffin."

Christopher Montgomery had died of a heart attack. His arteries had clogged from too much scrapple, beer, cheese-its, and goldfish.

I was walking through a forest, half Wissahickon, half the grange near the 125 Farwood house, mourning the death of Christopher. I see his mother, Laurie, she's upset but not crying, her face twisted and wrinkled with sadness.

I go to work, still upset, talking to my co-worker, Jo, about Christopher. My work is half Whole Foods and half Maggie Moo's.

I see Christopher through a doorway. He's missing his glasses and on his face is a look of surprise and confusion.

"I thought you died!"
"I did, but it's a good thing I woke up before they poured the cement in my coffin."
"Do you remember being dead? How was it?"
"I don't remember."
"Do you remember slipping into death while you were still alive?"
"I don't remember."