Icarus Manifest
by Gerrit London

Introduction

I think there’s that point in everyone’s life when you think, “How the fuck did I get here?” It usually happens when you take a wrong off ramp or get into a bad relationship. Blood drips from my eyelids while Vatican City burns before me. The flames do their sensual dance. The smell of burning papal flesh penetrates my whole olfactory system. I wonder, “Really, How did I get here?” And I remember…
~
My memories of her are fading. I’m hanging on to what I can. She had blonde, no, brown hair, and green eyes. Eyes that when she stared at me from across the room, my whole body went numb. She was a voluptuous seraph with tanned Mediterranean skin. Subtle smiles, her teeth shining in between her slightly pink lips, but those eyes, damn those eyes. She was gorgeous. She was the kind of girl where if I could have designed the perfect woman, my creation would have cowered from her in shame…God, I can’t remember her name.
I first met her the summer after I graduated from high school at a party in my home town at the house of some rich, spoiled, jaded slut. It was a typical southern California party. The kind where the keg took the place of the coat rack at the front door. Where the Abercrombie and Fitch model guys left with a definite one night stand and guys like me went home alone to spend some quality time with our right hand. Where guys like me, generally weren’t even invited.
The only way I got into that party was because this guy Brad, who I’d been friends with in grade school and had since become a dick, got me in. He owed me one because I covered for him on the day of our Physics test. I wanted to believe he ditched because he was scared of failing, but he was boning some big-titted broad in the back of his truck. I was envious and he knew it, so he threw me a bone. I was bitter but I wrote down the time and address while thinking to myself how much I hoped that his condom broke.
I cruised up to Kristy Caldwell’s overly sized house around 8:30 when the party was supposed to start and I saw that there was no one there yet. People like that are always “fashionably late” so I drove to a local coffee house and spent a fortune on a piece of shit drip coffee. It really was horrible, but I needed the caffeine. Otherwise, I normally wouldn’t have wasted the “hard earned” money I got from working at the local Christian Family Supply store.
I had been working there 8 years and I still earned less than minimum wage, but business was good. We sold bibles, sing-a-long tapes, and plaques with the poem “Footprints in the Sand” engraved into them. You’d be surprised how much of an industry the Christian supply business is in small towns. You’d be even more surprised how many crucifix slash dildo conversions I sold under the counter to sex craved house wives. I was raking in a steady two hundred dollars a week from my “Jesus Jammers” and other Christ affiliated sex toys. If you’re questioning my faith, fear not. I haven’t believed in God since the day I was born. The only reason I took the job was because my parents owned the store. I only played along for the fiscal opportunities Jesus Christ provided for me.
I made my way back to the house at 9:30 and everyone was there as I expected. I walked inside and sat down in a chair just taking it all in. People were wasted and the party hadn’t even been going for 45 minutes. I almost got puked on and I was ready to leave when I saw her. She was standing in the doorway to the kitchen. When I noticed her, my heart beat more quickly. When she turned and stared at me, smiling, I couldn’t breathe. When she began to walk towards me time stopped, and when she spoke to me, I died.
“Hi”, she said.
What was her name?
“How are you?”
God, it’s killing me.
“You like the party?”
Damn it, what was her name?
“You’re Jonas right? Jonas Purson?”
Oh yeah, now I remember…
“My name is Julia.”