Instagram Cabin

There's some kind of Instagram contest happening and I'm at a cabin with my friend brainstorming ideas. He's distracted by his phone. There's garland on the front door knob.  

Painting Bottles for A Jewish Businessman

There is a Jewish business event taking place in an elaborate courtyard. I am asked to hand paint a label onto a bottle of wine by one of the business men. He is bald and looks like most of the other men at the event. He hasn't paid me yet and I think about other projects that I have been paid for and whether or not they include this project. He states that he wants a "beet grey" background and red lettering with a hint of oat. I try to decipher what "beet grey" is. The brushes and paint they give me to use are cheap and I have issues making the paint smooth. I keep thinking I have to do my taxes and leave. I wonder if I can bring this home. I don't like this project at all.  

The Gym and a Dead Gorilla

I'm in a city that feels like a combination of Hanoi and Denver. I'm walking to the gym in nicer clothes. Clothes I wouldn't ear to the gym. I arrive late and the teacher, Mary, a very fat woman drives a bus up to the front door and instructs us all to get started. I don't know what I'm doing and start to sweat in nude pantyhose. At the front of the building there is a dusty shop with random clothes available for sale and other things that have been there for a long time. Like a small town gas station where there are also random t-shirts and gifts that no one ever buys. I pull on a pair of bike shorts. They feel too small and the elastic in the waste man falls apart almsot immediately. I pull on a large t-shirt. I feel awkward and still don't have on the right shoes to be working out. My friend arrives. I tell her the class is different than usual. She seems ok with it and we all start doing random movements that the teacher hasn't instructed us to do at all. I leave the class and head down the street. A dried up gorilla body and face end up in my arms. I feel guilty about having this thing in my arms and look for a place to hide it. I stuff it into a trash can. Its face crunches in my hands. I feel sick with guilt and sad for the poor gorilla. I walk away hoping no one will discover my fingerprints. 

Summer Camp

I am at a summer camp with a few kids I used to know. We are all grown up and looking for a place to sleep in an outdoor cabin. There is a lot of activity surrounding me: people eating chicken wings, smoking weed, laughing and talking. I look for my spot to sleep. It's an orange fold down couch with a wool blanket. I lie down and fall asleep. I wake up in the morning with someone's arms wrapped around me. He's super skinny, and I'm feeling a blend of being violated and also ok with the forced comfort. I watch him get up. His chest is pale and speckled with freckles. He's a kid I used to go to school with in Colorado. Keith Long. I wake up and wonder where he is in life. I wonder if he's still around. I remember him that one day in summer camp when Bethany made him cry. He was really upset. I hadn't seen a boy cry like that before. He was 10 and to me it was like seeing a grown man cry.