Jeff Can Blog

The Fawn

By Jeff Klepper

The picnic basket was woven like a small city of branches tangled together for some holy purpose. The couple walked hand in hand scanning the grassy valley for the perfect spot to lay their blanket. It was just after one and the sun seemed to just float their, warm and pleasant. A breeze caught the young woman’s hair as she began to unfold the blanket and lie it down on the final resting spot on which the two had chosen. The young woman stared into her lovers eyes. She pictured them married with children and a cozy cottage near town. The young man looked in to his lovers eyes and pictured her soft breast and spacious thighs. The young woman began to sort out the innards of the picnic basket as the young man played with the blades of grass surrounding the blanket. As she meticulously picked each item out of the basket the young man would find a new blade of grass to pick then slowly tear to shreds just as the ones before it. The woman then grabbed the bottle of wine in the basket and began to uncork it. Making sure to take care of the delicate cork which she was removing. The young man turned as his interest shifted from the blades of grass to the bottle of wine slowly licking his lips in anticipation of it. Just as quickly as the woman uncorked the wine the young man had finished his first glass and was starting on his second. Trying to catch up the young woman slurped down the wine carefully squeezing her lips so that no wine would drip upon her newly tailored dress. Pouring another glass for the woman the young man was hastily chewing on a sandwich that he had unpacked for himself. The day seemed to last, every moment of the sunlight felt long and real. Unadulterated, the day was theirs nothing but the sun light, wind, and running brook a quarter mile away. The birds were singing and there were no obligations either had to fulfill. Being with one another was all the concern they had and living life at that very moment when the sun struck its highest peak was all that mattered. Matter is what all tangible things are made of but the truth had to be written in the lovers eyes. The smell of grass and lavender permeated the air like a dust cloud. The young man now on his fourth glass of wine began to speak. The woman listened closely to his slow deliberate speech.

“My dear, it has been quite some time since we have left the city to get away. I know that things have not been exactly wonderful, or even tolerable. I just want you to know that I am going through difficult times at work and you know how demanding my father is” said the young man.

“Now my love I know how your father is but you must understand I deserve more than an occasional picnic. I want you to know that someday we will be blessed with children and I want you to be there for me. All of us in fact,” said the young woman gazing into the young mans eyes.

“Well you know we cannot afford children and a wedding, oh, a wedding is out of the question right now. We do not have the funds to put on such a lavish decadent event,” he exclaimed.

“You may as well tell me we are never going to marry and just be the end of it as it is,”said the young woman beginning to tear up.

The young man sat their watching this form he had never before seen in his lovers eyes. She had become unrecognizable. Seemingly different from all prior recollections. She was no longer stunning or breathtaking. She was now weak and conniving and all the while he had not seen this coming. Rarely ever did he this coming believing somehow that this romance would not end on the same terms as the prior ones had. But of course, without fail and without a doubt she had followed the script perfectly. Word by word. Tear by tear. This had the young man not only perplexed but torn. Could he settle down now after all his hard work at the law firm? Or was he really just doomed to inquisitive fairy tale romances set to fail without doubt? It was his idea after all to bring her to the country. To bring the wine and blanket. But all he had in mind was some wine and a roll around in the field. He wasn’t interested in the future or her plans of children. No, he had no interest in any such tales of conformity. The freedom in nature which surrounded him caught his eye. He picked out a young fawn dancing on the high grass. The young man fixated his eyes upon the fawn barely blinking just unyielding concentration. The fawn had no obligations, no business meetings, no bills and certainly no marriages to worry about. It was free to go about its business and free do what it pleases where it pleases. The young man then turned to his love and he could only think about one thing over and over again. That one thing was running, running with the fawn far away into natures open arms. But he paused, sat still and pondered like men do so often. He then turned to his lover and the dream was lost.

Sunny San Diego

By Jeff Klepper

The world looked sharp and transparent. The sun lit room felt warm like a summer morning in La Jolla. The door to the room was cracked and I could hear the shoe store below me opening for business at every Monday morning. I got out of bed and washed my face. I felt sick to my stomach but that was nothing out of the ordinary considering I have a stomach ulcer the size of Kentucky. I reached in my kitchen cupboard and grabbed my bottle of Wild Turkey and poured myself a stiff drink. The taste alone sends me into a euphoric state that allows me to gather the courage to write about the poor saps that inhabit this city. All racing to work chattering about something they know nothing about. There is something in their psyche that allows them the self satisfaction that their meaningless jobs somehow relate. It is with this insignificant rationale that I stuff ice cubes in a glass and douse them with whiskey and scotch. There is no new age rendition of helplessness that allows for such hedonistic and barbaric thought. I do know now that the more I follow in this self destructive condition I become well aware that I am no less human than the gorilla at the Sad Diego zoo. I often go to the zoo on my days off from assignment. I go to the primate section first and I will sit there with my thermos of whiskey for hours. Thinking of ways to communicate with these cousins of man, these poor unfortunate bastards who were happy where they were. Until some monstrous figure out of the night grabbed them and caged them and sent them to San Diego so that some little kid can lick a lolli-pop and piss them self. I know that they look out at the world much like I do. Sitting, staring, contemplating the reasons they are confined in some unnatural faux eco-system that somehow reminds them of home. But they sulk and suffer like their human counter parts who are just as confined as they are. These poor unfortunate bastards and their furry bodies and their distant stares haunt me. They have no culture. Their life is over, they are expected to hump their counterpart so that they can one day doom their offspring to the same confinement and the same depression as they are in. It shadows humanity in almost every way. We are caged in our own glorious state. We are at fault for not noticing our brilliance and our own majesty. Instead, I sit here packing ice cubes into my glass while I face another day in sunny San Diego.