Read Online Fallen Nation: Party At The World's End by James Curcio - Free Book Online
Authors: James Curcio
Tags: Urban Fantasy, Sex, mythology, goth, polyamory, Myth, Rock, counterculture, psychedelic, gonzo, burning man, rave culture
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tub.”
The rest of the line went
dead silent.
The final stop of the
evening was an incredibly overpriced hotel.
A valet approached them
uncertainly.
“ Leave the keys in the...uh...truck?”
“ The fuck I will. Just tell me where to park,” Loki
said.
The side-door opened, and
the valet’s jaw followed suit.
The hotel doors glide , Loki marveled.
That was how he knew the place was worth $500 a night. The lobby
was ultra-modern and all the furniture looked like it was designed
by Escher.
“ Is that supposed to be a chair?” Loki asked.
Dionysus squinted. “I think
it’s decorative.”
“ A decorative chair .”
“ Come on,” Dionysus said.
A crowd of attendants, bell
hops, and random hotel lobby trash stared in bewilderment as their
little army approached the concierge. Their boots and heels clicked
loudly on the marble floor.
“ D-do you have a reservation?” the concierge asked.
“ Watch and learn,” she said to Loki.
Then, “Hey,” to the
concierge, all smiles and breasts.
Everything clustered around
one focal point, a sublimely tranquil red center surrounded in the
black fluttering of the mob.
At first I can’t clearly
make out this center. I perch on the tip of my toes despite myself,
and then I see what the commotion is about. My God. No, my
Goddess.
The rest are a gauché
pastiché of whatever they’re passing off as punk rock or beatnik
these days. One of them may even be a transsexual. Post-op, pre-op,
who knows. I’m not about to find out. This goddess shouldn’t
surround herself with such garbage.
I’m left clutching the
table and reeling by the time we’re face to face. What is it that
you’ve always craved, that’s always pulled you through another day?
And what would you do if it suddenly manifested in front of you,
clothed in downy skin?
Anything, anything they
say. She’s talking fast now, and for the first time in my life the
only thing I can think about is myself. That’s funny right? I’m
hypnotized by the smell of her breath, sweat, and perfume, and all
I can think about is me . Climbing an endless ladder, pieces of myself doled out
slowly, almost imperceptibly, in exchange for another rung. A grand
luxury suite, fourteen hundred square feet, yes, yes. What has this
long life of service given me? By all accounts, I had done well,
but what had I done for myself? Why am I here? Why am I giving them
a room on a tab? My best instincts reel, but I see my hands
floating over the keypad, I see the key card grasped so delicately
between her candy-tipped fingers.
Fuck this place. I don’t
care.
Here is your room card,
Miss Parsons.
The troupe made their way
to the elevator, Lilith in the lead with the key card in her
hand.
“ That was like some kind of Jedi mind trick that you just did
there,” Dionysus said. “And did I hear that right? Miss Parsons?
Like Jet-propulsion laboratory occult nut, L Ron stole his cash and
started Scientology with it Parsons?”
They stopped at the
elevator. “I really don’t feel like talking about my grandfather
right now,” she said.
The elevator dinged and the
doors closed behind them.
It was packed tight: the
troupe, a nervous, middle-aged business man and his shrew-faced
wife. Ding. A momentary wave of nausea passed through all of them.
Amber was coiled around Lilith like a garment.
Ding. Another
floor.
Jesus slid next to the
business man and winked. “This is getting me sooo hot,” she
said.
The man swallowed,
hard.
She put her arm around his
shoulder. “I know what you look at when you’re up alone in the dead
of night. You dirty, dirty boy.” His wife looked away,
blushing.
Ding. Their
floor.
They stumbled down the
hallway, high on giddiness, lust and hash. A maid rushed passed,
saying Hail Mary’s to herself as she went.
They approached the door to
room 777. Lilith turned to Loki before opening the door. “Wait
here. We need a guard.”
“ What? You want me to
The rest of the line went
dead silent.
The final stop of the
evening was an incredibly overpriced hotel.
A valet approached them
uncertainly.
“ Leave the keys in the...uh...truck?”
“ The fuck I will. Just tell me where to park,” Loki
said.
The side-door opened, and
the valet’s jaw followed suit.
The hotel doors glide , Loki marveled.
That was how he knew the place was worth $500 a night. The lobby
was ultra-modern and all the furniture looked like it was designed
by Escher.
“ Is that supposed to be a chair?” Loki asked.
Dionysus squinted. “I think
it’s decorative.”
“ A decorative chair .”
“ Come on,” Dionysus said.
A crowd of attendants, bell
hops, and random hotel lobby trash stared in bewilderment as their
little army approached the concierge. Their boots and heels clicked
loudly on the marble floor.
“ D-do you have a reservation?” the concierge asked.
“ Watch and learn,” she said to Loki.
Then, “Hey,” to the
concierge, all smiles and breasts.
Everything clustered around
one focal point, a sublimely tranquil red center surrounded in the
black fluttering of the mob.
At first I can’t clearly
make out this center. I perch on the tip of my toes despite myself,
and then I see what the commotion is about. My God. No, my
Goddess.
The rest are a gauché
pastiché of whatever they’re passing off as punk rock or beatnik
these days. One of them may even be a transsexual. Post-op, pre-op,
who knows. I’m not about to find out. This goddess shouldn’t
surround herself with such garbage.
I’m left clutching the
table and reeling by the time we’re face to face. What is it that
you’ve always craved, that’s always pulled you through another day?
And what would you do if it suddenly manifested in front of you,
clothed in downy skin?
Anything, anything they
say. She’s talking fast now, and for the first time in my life the
only thing I can think about is myself. That’s funny right? I’m
hypnotized by the smell of her breath, sweat, and perfume, and all
I can think about is me . Climbing an endless ladder, pieces of myself doled out
slowly, almost imperceptibly, in exchange for another rung. A grand
luxury suite, fourteen hundred square feet, yes, yes. What has this
long life of service given me? By all accounts, I had done well,
but what had I done for myself? Why am I here? Why am I giving them
a room on a tab? My best instincts reel, but I see my hands
floating over the keypad, I see the key card grasped so delicately
between her candy-tipped fingers.
Fuck this place. I don’t
care.
Here is your room card,
Miss Parsons.
The troupe made their way
to the elevator, Lilith in the lead with the key card in her
hand.
“ That was like some kind of Jedi mind trick that you just did
there,” Dionysus said. “And did I hear that right? Miss Parsons?
Like Jet-propulsion laboratory occult nut, L Ron stole his cash and
started Scientology with it Parsons?”
They stopped at the
elevator. “I really don’t feel like talking about my grandfather
right now,” she said.
The elevator dinged and the
doors closed behind them.
It was packed tight: the
troupe, a nervous, middle-aged business man and his shrew-faced
wife. Ding. A momentary wave of nausea passed through all of them.
Amber was coiled around Lilith like a garment.
Ding. Another
floor.
Jesus slid next to the
business man and winked. “This is getting me sooo hot,” she
said.
The man swallowed,
hard.
She put her arm around his
shoulder. “I know what you look at when you’re up alone in the dead
of night. You dirty, dirty boy.” His wife looked away,
blushing.
Ding. Their
floor.
They stumbled down the
hallway, high on giddiness, lust and hash. A maid rushed passed,
saying Hail Mary’s to herself as she went.
They approached the door to
room 777. Lilith turned to Loki before opening the door. “Wait
here. We need a guard.”
“ What? You want me to
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