Claude...

Me as Claude

This is neither fact nor fiction. This is only a story about Claude. 

Claude only had one Cigarette left and he was saving it for a special occasion. It had been five days now with no drugs and no booze. Claude was beginning to suffer. When will the madness end for our dear friend Claude? He hasn't seen his family or any friends for about three years now and he really doesn't give a shit. "Fuck Them" he thinks while walking through a field of tall wet grass late at night. "Who needs all that fucking bullshit." Claude never had time for any bullshit. 

If you offended him or said something wrong he would wait until you weren't paying attention and then poof he would vanish into thin air. Since he had no money this strategy also worked well as Claude would leave said offender to foot the bill for whatever coffee and wrap Claude had ordered. Claude never spoke much but since he left all those people behind he never spoke at all, to anyone, ever. 

After finding a soft patch to sleep on Claude called it a night. The next morning Claude was attacked and savagely mauled by a group of raccoons who had been following him for sometime. In need of medical attention Claude crawled to the side of the road. A truck driver threw an empty bottle at Claude knocking him unconscious. When Claude awoke it was night time again and he could see the beady little eyes of the raccoons as they watched him from the tall grass. They made raccoon sounds and did intimidating raccoon customs and stuff. Claude wasn't afraid. 

It just so happened that at that very instant another truck driver (this one with a kind heart) decided to pick up Claude and bring him to the hospital. Along the way the trucker told Claude about all his adventures across the highways of America. Claude nodded in silence. At one point the trucker asked Claude to hand him an aspirin from the glove box.

 Claude reached into the glove box and grabbed the bottle but that's when he saw the truckers stash of weed and caffeine pills. Without a second thought Claude began furiously eating the pills and was attempting to create a smoking apparatus using a pop can when the trucker punched Claude in the neck. He then kicked Claude out of the truck and drove off into the sunrise. 

"Ahh Shit I almost had weed..." Claude thought. "Oh shit I think I have rabies...and maybe also fleas" "Dammit" "Fuck!" "Ahh Shit" Claude got up and with his shirt wrapped around his head like a turban he walked for sometime amazed at how well he was doing despite no food, water, medical attention, or money. 

After several hours of walking Claude finally reached a truck stop oasis. It was here that Claude found the kind hearted trucker sleeping in his cab. Claude stole all of the guys drugs and left a nice note regarding how much the guys stories sucked ass. By hitching a ride from an old lady and her dog Claude finally made it to a hospital. Sitting in the waiting room the old lady did all the talking for him. A nurse approached and put a name tag on his jacket that said "Hello My Name is Claude." 

Upon leaving the hospital Claude hugged the old woman and gave the little dog a scratch behind the ear. As he set off on the road again Claude decided that he would continue wearing his name tag until the day he could finally smoke his last cigarette. "But When" He thought "When will this day come?"... 

After several days of walking and sleeping outside Claude was standing by the side of the road with his thumb out when he saw a car in the distance.... To Be Continued.