I recall a day of my past life I had once clung to as if it was all I had. Perhaps at the time, that was true, but I have long since let go of it, out of necessity and out of survival especially.
      This was at a time when I treated every day as if it were my last. Why I chose to adopt this life I can't understand even to this day, but I believed at the time that it was the best way to go. Wrong.
      My two closest friends that I had grown up with, grew up much faster than I did, and to this I felt quite jealous, though it was truly unnecessary. I was always good to them,   I was always there for them. Remember, I had chosen to live each day as if it counted, so on the rare occasion, I would not sleep at night until I had made things right. Who knows? I could have gone in my sleep; how?
      Then there came a point that comes in everyone's life, where we all went our own separate ways to grow up. My two friends however, grew up and as a result, had a baby girl. I resented this; called the kid a brat, though I had no idea what she looked like how how she behaved. It didn't matter.
      Times were hard for them, they went through every imagineable financial crisis. And they grew up again.
      I had stopped by an old bar one night, and meeting my old friend there was not even in the back of my mind, when he slapped me across the head as he did when we were younger.
"Didn't think you still came round here," he said with a sneer, and took his hat off to sit next to me at the bar.
      The bar hadn't aged a day, but it was older than my parents. The owner, probably immortal, had  served them in their youth. He polished the old wood countertop and flicked a coaster at my friend with a wrinkled, liver-spotted finger.
      "I heard there was a suburb coming in this afternoon, I wanted to see it," I said defensively. I placed my glass tumbler on the table and ordered another drink. Rum with carbonated water. Ice, dropped in carefully, as to not disturb the bubbles excessively.
      "That's why I'm here too," he said with an excited voice. "Except I got one under my name."
      "Well aren't you a success story," I said flatly as I held my coaster out to my fixed drink.
       "We've worked a long time for it, and we're finally going to get it. A real home, like everyone else. It's safer for the kids too."
      "Kids-ah." I pronounced clearly. "You have more?"
      "No. But we will."
      "Dream come true," I added in the same tone as before, taking a drink from my glass. It was the same glass as the first drink, with the same lip-mark on the corner.
      "So what are you doing these days? I thought you were gone," he said in surprise, leaning his head to the side to look at me closer.
       "I'm never that far. I mean, I've been in the same place since back then."
      "Really." He looked away shamefully and took a glance at the taps. "I'm sorry. We've been so busy."
      "Oh, same here! You know how busy life gets." That was a lie. I hadn't done a thing since the last time we spoke.
      "They say the houses are going around this square here, and the bar's going down," he said suddenly, changing the subject.
      "I heard. Thought I'd take a last visit. Don't know why though, nothing's really changed. I come back here, and it's like, the memory was more precious than the experience itself."
      "Today, they're coming," he added, completely disregarding the things I said.
      "I know." My eyes widened over the rim of my glass as I looked at him with disgust. Though he was a new man today, there was no sign in his attire or even personal hygiene. Still a dog.
      "In a few hours."
      "In a few hours," I repeated.
      We made comments here and there, over beer and rum, discussing things which had no apparent meaning to him, despite his efforts to project it. He was beginning to drown in his own attempt to lighten up the situation, despite the skylight's forecast of thick, heavy raindrops. They would fall like bullets and spill over the rustic bar's holey gutters, and I would stand there under them to watch the trucks come in.
      And that's what happened. I think I may have fallen asleep at the glass, and I'm sure I heard my voice from somewhere above the bartender's head. The words slurred like cotton and I think my habit of falling asleep mid-sentence was the consequence of my accidental addiction. Whoops.

      When I woke from a black dream of televised sport narration, I peered outside to see the houses had already been laid out in a perfect arc. The siding was horribly painted, or maybe it was the quality of the wood shining in the yellow-cloud daylight. I just rubbed the sleep off before staggering outside.
      I saw my friend there wading in a crowd of sad pride. This was theirs, and it caused me to tear up a little bit. He finally had it all, good for you, son.
      "Goodbye then," said the bartender as I held the door open too long. My hand clung onto the inside doorknob, and I turned groggily to him and bowed. This was a gesture I would never consciously allow myself to do, but this was a moment where I felt I was out of it.
      Outside, the air was thick and difficult to breathe. My clothes became too damp for my own comfort, but I couldn't recall if it was from the stuffy bar or the humidity. I walked slowly down a lumpy ashphalt walkway, towards the crowd of excited people. They didn't deserve this, did they? I did. But now that I could see the full ugly glow of this lower-class instant suburb, I felt sick. Never mind. This was overwhelmingly not my dream. My friend hadn't looked at me again until his moving truck barrelled in, behind twenty others and parked in his gravel driveway.
      I offered to move his things, through the heavy rain that fell in sheets. My vision was obscured by my hair. I had gotten proud of the length, but now it was pointless. Nobody was taking this pride away from the mass move-in folks. I only hoped his wife and kids-ah wouldn't come and find me here, in this state, as I helped him lift a brown couch into his front door.


      What happened later that day was beyond my expectations, and needless to say, I was overjoyed. They had a flood. The square was set on a lower level than the street, which was always a problem for the bar. But now I could fully realize its profound effect as we stood up to our kness in his living room swimming hole. The water was filthy. I took this as a sign of things to come.
      "Well, guess someone was just dying to rain on your parade, eh?" I joked, but I know there was no sense in saying a word. He was hopelessly optimistic as he waded around in the water, mulling thoughts that were probably no deeper than the water.
      "We'll fix it. They have to. They can't just leave us like this after all that work."
      "These houses are a time a dozen. Jello moulds," I said reasonably. But my intent was purely malicious. I'm certain he took it as an optimistic remark, as he smiled.
      "You always knew how to keep my spirits up."
      "I think I've gotten a lot better at it after all these years." I smiled painfully back.
      "I mean after all-"
      No.
      "We've got everything to gain now."
      Shut up.
      "You were always lucky. You know that?" He took his hat off and hooked his finger through the back of it. "You never tried for anything, but you got it anyway."
      I couldn't stand it any more. I didn't think either, because I pushed him into the water, and he landed on something submerged. He clumsily spluttered up at me, fighting the filthy brown water away from his mouth.
      "Fuck you," I said plainly. I'm sure he was baffled, and maybe a little annoyed, but he didn't shove back. I smiled, shrugged at him and tilted my head as he got back up on his feet. Then I headed back out the front door and slammed it, though the effect I desired was dampened by the flood.
                Oh well.