Metaphysic Storm

At Jackson Square I was bragging to my friend, the phantom artist, about my two thousand dollar platinum and sapphire ring, which I traded a great painting for it from Nancy. It is her ex-wedding ring. The phantom joked around saying, “If you ever get held up they’re sure to miss it. Looks like you got it at the bead shop.” It’s my King ring, a symbol of my achievement, self proclaimed rule. Everyone needs to be the king of their self.

I hopped on the street car and cruzed up to La Boulangerie were I bought a baguette that would soon become part of a Kings sandwich. Exiting the shop I thought about my Queen in California, Amanda, hopping that she would forgive for breaking the law of the foreign land by mentally raping her in an early morning conversation. Heading back to the my chambers I was skillfully maneuvering my longboard on challenging New Orleans sidewalks. I approached a section that was impossible to traverse. A couple was walking out of a shop and watched me dismount my deck. They said, “We would have been really impressed if you would have been able to make it over that rough patch.” I replied, “There’s some things I just can’t do.” A few clicks down I got back on my board and kicked off. At the very next, quote unquote, side walk ramp I took a header right onto the pavement. The couple looked very concerned for my well being but they had nothing to worry about. I am a master at falling. I got up brushed off the dirt and started laughing. I asked them, “Did that impress you?” They joined my laughter and my pride remained strong.

Back at the Den I told my friend Nancy that I was depressed because Amanda was avoiding me but that I was still confident she would come around. Nancy wanted me to go with her to pick up some things from the store and I was more than happy to drive. At Pier One she made a startling discovery on my hand. The sapphire in my kings ring was missing. Upon further inspection we deduced that it was dislodged during my fall. We drove back to the location of the fall sight. She revealed an unjustified attachment to the gem and to make it more weird for her, the day would have been her 8th wedding anniversary.

We spent the next hour scouring the concrete looking for a thousand dollar cut stone. I was disappointed not finding it but rationalized that had I to chose losing the stone or the Neo Ray Bans I was wearing, I would have chosen the stone. I’m an Imperadør now, after all. I gave the ground one more look as I searched for the carved gem. Amanda called.