All the sex I'd had, all the twining and moaning in memory, and all the sex I'd planned on in the future. All the money that was always running out, that I wanted more of. And the food I never ate enough of because of the running-out of money. And the dream I couldn't get rid of, the love I fed on. The God I despaired of, whose favor I sought, who owned my shame for the love I was made of, and owed to the world, and coveted, rarely giving any back. And the Joy I still had some slim hope
for and the Doubt...the pack of wolves hard on my heels, snarling, spitting our sparks and driving me on...all the time I never had enough of, and had always failed to use correctly...the rest of the world not responding with adequate speed to my wishes...all the guilt I felt for not being grateful enough…and how grateful I felt, all the years of trying, planning. All the times I thought I'd fallen in love. All the drugs I'd taken, all the pain I felt, all the lessons I'd learned and ignored.
Everything I had was in that case. And now the case was gone.
Carefully I retraced my steps, all the way down the uneven sidewalk with insects chirping, cars and trucks sliding past in the moonlight ghost-silent, looking under rosebushes, in rain-gutters, all the way back through the courtyard and into the hotel lobby, where behind a long black counter the pale-faced clerk stood straightly, smiling fiercely. I told him what
had happened: "All my shit, man!" I was panicked. Without all those limits my life would lap over its edges, a kind of mist, and get lost blending with everything else. "Are you sure you had a case when you came in here?" He fairly screamed it. He was trying to help, but yes, I said, I was sure. "Well, I'm sorry, sir." I walked outside and
stood in the narrow stone courtyard a moment,
outnumbered by armies of roses, waiting for it to happen.
You could hear all the doors bolting closed surreptitiously. Marvelous, unafraid roses. I waited, waited. After about five minutes I began to feel foolish, so I did a little dance. Had I been drinking? My feet flew over the flagstones. I felt flimsy and sleek and light. I stopped dancing and stood there a few minutes longer, feeling that way. Like a kite, like a cloud.
Then I moved off down the street looking for my case.