Existence Womb (86)

   
   "Existence Womb (86)"
    
   The Fourth of July had arrived in Arkansas, and that meant:  Out in the bucolic boondocks there be heavy artillery used by the youth, well, fireworks.
   Miriam convinced Buck to pick up some firecrackers and sparklers, just crude noise makers and fire that would shimmer and shine, reminding of mystical magic--in a sublime sense.
   Outside of their pad, they ignited the quasi-explosives, laughing and playing, while Buck imbibed one too many a pale lager, even stumbling once or twice, but keeping his uncanny cool and couth. 
   He kissed Miriam gently on the lips when the fun was done, causing her to blush and feel a sparkly tingle run up her backbone and into her blessed brain.  Next, the twosome retired to their pad, turned on the tube, watching the news and stuff, and Buck trying to figure out who all the late night talk show hosts were, and if they actually were funny--not like back in the early 80's when he enjoyed Johnny Carson in usually blue-tinted suits, the man getting more handsome as he aged; plus, more comedic, having reverence for his prolonged career in making people sweetly get the giggles.
   Miriam finally fell into the sea of dreams, a cigarette dangling from her sleeping grip, which Buck gently removed and curiously took a drag from, wondering how people enjoyed such things.
   Afterwards, he stripped his clothing off, morphed wolfways, and prowled the pastoral presence of East End Arkansas, noticing the possums and other little creatures just trying to endure and survive their unwanted lives.  The Moon was waxing fullways, and he wondered of the mysteries of God, thanking the Man upstairs for making him a Catholic and an American.  Next, just to play his canine part, he let out a howl at the encompassing cream of the glittering Milky Way, laughed like a smug coyote, and returned as Miriam's loyal protector.  Just a simple, no hassle day.  Thank God for peace, and he did.