Pagan Moss' Peep Show Stories

Sunday, March 07, 2004

Morning in Repose



Morning in Repose

It is summer somewhere in Manhattan. A young man wakes up at 7:00 a.m. to the sound of his alarm clock. He sits straight up in bed with a smile on his face. He looks over at his beautiful wife, embracing their newborn child, perfection in sleep. He swings his legs over to the side of the bed where his feet meet the cool, hardwood floor. He yawns and stretches his arms to the sky, admiring the rosy glow of the window shade, signaling the birth of a new day.

It is fall somewhere downtown Seattle in the doorway of an old bookstore. A homeless man stirs under a soiled sleeping bag, smelling of piss and vomit, while the city wakes around him. Men and women on their way to work scurry by, eyes lowered. His dirty face pokes out and looks around. His warm breath curls up like smoke as it hits the bitter fall air. He seems to search the faces of those passing by, looking for some proof of his existence - his worth. Maybe today will be different. He sees nothing and retreats back to his synthetic womb.

It is winter in the bowels of some great city in the good ol' US of A. A man wakes up in a cold prison cell all alone. He opens his eyes and blinks madly, adjusting to the bright white, artificial sunlight. He looks around the room - bare gray walls over smooth gray floors. A toilet hangs near his bed, smelling of stale urine. His bladder is heavy, but he cannot move. He will die today. It has been authorized - the papers stamped. Everything today will be his last. His last meal will sit in his gut, but will never pass . . . although last night’s meal will, along with the contents of his bladder when he falls into his sleep of death.

It is spring somewhere in a small seaside town. In the back of an old beat-up stationwagon, parked on a sandy dune, a woman wakes next to her lover. The air is stale and heavy, smelling of oily hair, sweat, and sex. She is drawn by the white glow of her lover’s back in the dark blue light of early morning. She moves closer to him, pressing her soft breasts into his back. Her bush, stiff with the remnants of their lovemaking, brushes his buttocks. She kisses him below the ear, whispering, “I love you.”


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A Seattle peep-show girl shares stories of her customers and adventures stemming from her bare-it-all behavior.

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