I remember the way that I felt about life, the way that i felt exposed to the wilderness surrounding me. No one to turn to, nothing to do about it. My thoughts blurring the reality of life. I'm unable to distinguish the two from each other. The feelings that i know are mine are widely flung to the deep midsts of my mind, buried under ten thousand fluttering papers. As if a ceiling fan is trying to make me think about them, unwittingly. I'm not sure that i can keep going on like this, trying not to think of my past, it is a black cloud hanging over the horizon, threatening lashings of rain and bright lightning, with an expectation of dread that engulfs the air around it. I can feel it coming, the brooding of pain and heartache. I do not want to deal with it, I cannot. I wish that i was strong enough, but yet i continue to push it to the back, unwanting to deal with it or see it. I wish that it wasn't this hard, that it would disapper forever, leaving me peaceful and accepting of the past, present and future.
She recalls what it felt like, before. Being exposed to the wilderness that surrounded her. She had no one to turn to, and could do nothing about it. Somehow her thoughts blurring the reality of life, or so she told me. She was unable to distinguish the two from each other. She described how her thoughts were flung to the deepest midst of her mind, and buried under thousands of papers, which fluttered, a fan overhead was trying to make her think about them, unwittingly. I asked what her mind looked like. Like a black cloud, hanging over the horizon. Threatening lashings of rain and bright light. A certain exectation of dread, engulfing the air around it. She didn't want to think of her past, and she can't keep going on like this. She can feel it coming, the broding of pain and heartache. I do not want to deal with it, she yells, I cannot! I wish that i was strong enough, i keep pushing it back, not wanting to deal with it or see it. She breaks down, crying, she mutters, I wish that it wasn't this hard, that it would disappear forever, leaving me peaceful, accepting of the past, present and future. She has done it, made a break through, and for that I am proud.
You recalled the way that you felt about life. The way that you felt exposed to the wilderness surrounding you. Claiming that you had no one to talk to and couldn't do anything about it. We could never understand the way that you said the your thoughts were blurring the reality of life, and being unable to distinguish the two from each other. The psychologist described how your thoughts were strewn around your mind, somewhat buried under millions of papers. I'm not the bad person, you are the one on the horizon, the black cloud threatening lashings of rain, bright lightening, the expexectation that fillls the room when you arrive, you suck the air out of the room and me. Apparantly you cannot keep going on like this, you try to block out the past, but aren't we all? You cannot view the heart ache and the pain that is causing us, can you? And you think that you aren't strong enough? I cannot deal with it either! Why can you just let it go? It is the past, pushing it to the back, and not wanting to deal with it will make it worse. Trust me I know. We both wish that it wasn't this hard, that you would disappear forever, leaving me peace and acceptance. You will have the past present and future with out us, but can you forget the pain?
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Shopping
Write a very short sketch in which two characters shop for a present for a wedding, attend the wedding and visit the home where the gift resides five years later. Use a little dialogue. Now change the order. What is the effect of the different order of events?
'She wouldn't like that and she sure as hell wouldn't like that. Way too tacky', Jarrod exclaims pointing first at a dining table then at a knife and fork set.
'What do you get for the people that have everything?', I mumble under my breath,
'They did say not to bring anything, Shazza', I add excitedly.
'Yeah, but you know Toz and Jok, they are going to expect something from us, I mean you know what they got us for our wedding..' He says, with his back to me.
'Oh, right, what did they get us again?' I ask somewhat confused.
He shakes his head at me and tutts. We decide on getting them a gift voucher for a local furniture store.
Driving along in the Limo, I stare off out of the window, the road is pocketed with pot holes and what not. Grocers, pawn shop, meat shop, furniture shop and a jewellers. This town is nothing special, a few shops, couple of hundred people and pretty much nothing else, just routine.
The scrambling out of the car, followed by the sermon flow on almost endlessly, i take no notice. Being a bridesmaid means nothing to me, just having to dance with the Best Man and having to look spiffy for the second time in my life, the first being my wedding.The reception is full of the same old people, the same old alcohol, the same old smell, nothing's changed and I doubt that it ever will. This certainly isin't what I want to do for the rest of my life. After sitting there for hours, it's all over, not a tead shed that night, suprisingly.
Driving through this town again, after a while maybe a couple of years, can't remember, nothing's changed. All that has seemed to change is the amount of pot holes in the road, I swear that they have multiplied a million times, every few seconds there is a bump. I decide to call in on the last people that I remember seeing here, Toz and Jok. They now live on a ridge just outside town, or so I've heard. Clearing the town, I spot a house, just like they described it, placed on the hill. I'm sure that it would have looked great a few years ago, but it's become derelict. Tiles have shimmied off the roof, grass almost knee height, door half swinging off the hinges and the verandah half painted.
Pulling up in the driveway, stepping out onto the ground, my heels dig into the soil, leaving little patterns. I wander up to the house, wary of the possibilities of snakes in the grass but figuring that if they bite anything, its most likely going to be my heels - I'm not too worried.Knocking on the door, it swings open, termites infested in the wood, holes scattered throughout the door I can almost see through it. It is dark inside, nappies strewn everywhere, clusters of beer cans litter the floor and a half eaten chicken roast left on the table, flies buzzing around it. Why is the place like this, I wonder, everyone said that it was beautiful, what happened?
Walking into the kitchen, my heels clicking on the floor, creating clean patches, somewhat removing a few of the layers of dead skin. I see a person gripping the handle of a cup, head on the table, hair limp and greasy, spread over the head and arms. Noticing something in the doorway, the figure looks up, it's Toz, her eyes are shrunken in her head, black bags under them, lips thin and wing blast cracked. For a moment we do not recognise each other. She mutters my name and gets up to hug me. The smell of urine fills the air, it gets closer as she moves nearer. Looking her up and down I see that she has stains on her tattered night gown. Hugging me slightly, the smell of urine is overpowering, now I know that it is her, she smells! A wave of disbelief washes over me.
She takes my hand and shows me around the house. Each room gets worse as we go through. She has two kids, a boy and a girl, both run around naked. I ask where Jok is, in return I get a icy stare and she mutters that an answer.
'He is in Gaol for murdering one of the kids', she exclaims in a low voice,'I though that you would have known about it all, it was all over the news for weeks.'
Shaking my head, I look at her.
'After you left, just after the wedding, it just kept going down hill, he began abusing me, destroying everything, he left with nothing, except one thing and that was this..' Her voice trailing off into the next room, begging me to follow.
Hesitantly I follow her, her back turned away from me, she slowly looks around, when it catches her eye, she picks it up and hands it to me.
'What is it?', I ask, it looks like nothing, or at least like nothing special.
'It's what you and Jarrod gave me for our wedding, I know that you guys got a divorce, but I'm just going to say that the present that we got with the voucher just made my day'
She says, her eyes piercing mine.It's a box, well I think that its a box, brown and wooden, there is latch, opening it, I see a picture of them together frame and the wedding rings placed separatly. A feeling of relief surges through me, at least it is nothing scary I think, a bit happier. A noise comes from outside, Toz looks up, almost afraid and starts ushering my out of the house, grabbing the box from my hands, chucking it to the ground. Something is wrong, I can sense it, she is trying to push me out of the back door. I lose my balance, losing a heel, she pushes me out the door, without noticing, closing the door behind me.I hear voices coming from inside, slowly opening the door, wanting to grab my shoe, the voice becomes recognisable.
Stepping into my heel and walking towards the kitchen, heels still making clopping noises, I walk into the space, realising who the voice belonged to. He has his arms around her, lips locked onto hers, eyes closed until I enter the room. When he sees me, he lets go of her, a look of suprise on his face. It's him. Jarrod. Walking up to her, who is completly oblivious to my presence, I whisper in her ear.'How could you? I hope that you rot in hell you lying bitch, I hope that Satan eats your soul and that you never find happiness again', bile rises in my throat and I walk out. AHe comes running after me screaming 'I was going to tell you!'.I get into my car and drive away, making a vow to myself to never come back again.
'She wouldn't like that and she sure as hell wouldn't like that. Way too tacky', Jarrod exclaims pointing first at a dining table then at a knife and fork set.
'What do you get for the people that have everything?', I mumble under my breath,
'They did say not to bring anything, Shazza', I add excitedly.
'Yeah, but you know Toz and Jok, they are going to expect something from us, I mean you know what they got us for our wedding..' He says, with his back to me.
'Oh, right, what did they get us again?' I ask somewhat confused.
He shakes his head at me and tutts. We decide on getting them a gift voucher for a local furniture store.
Driving along in the Limo, I stare off out of the window, the road is pocketed with pot holes and what not. Grocers, pawn shop, meat shop, furniture shop and a jewellers. This town is nothing special, a few shops, couple of hundred people and pretty much nothing else, just routine.
The scrambling out of the car, followed by the sermon flow on almost endlessly, i take no notice. Being a bridesmaid means nothing to me, just having to dance with the Best Man and having to look spiffy for the second time in my life, the first being my wedding.The reception is full of the same old people, the same old alcohol, the same old smell, nothing's changed and I doubt that it ever will. This certainly isin't what I want to do for the rest of my life. After sitting there for hours, it's all over, not a tead shed that night, suprisingly.
Driving through this town again, after a while maybe a couple of years, can't remember, nothing's changed. All that has seemed to change is the amount of pot holes in the road, I swear that they have multiplied a million times, every few seconds there is a bump. I decide to call in on the last people that I remember seeing here, Toz and Jok. They now live on a ridge just outside town, or so I've heard. Clearing the town, I spot a house, just like they described it, placed on the hill. I'm sure that it would have looked great a few years ago, but it's become derelict. Tiles have shimmied off the roof, grass almost knee height, door half swinging off the hinges and the verandah half painted.
Pulling up in the driveway, stepping out onto the ground, my heels dig into the soil, leaving little patterns. I wander up to the house, wary of the possibilities of snakes in the grass but figuring that if they bite anything, its most likely going to be my heels - I'm not too worried.Knocking on the door, it swings open, termites infested in the wood, holes scattered throughout the door I can almost see through it. It is dark inside, nappies strewn everywhere, clusters of beer cans litter the floor and a half eaten chicken roast left on the table, flies buzzing around it. Why is the place like this, I wonder, everyone said that it was beautiful, what happened?
Walking into the kitchen, my heels clicking on the floor, creating clean patches, somewhat removing a few of the layers of dead skin. I see a person gripping the handle of a cup, head on the table, hair limp and greasy, spread over the head and arms. Noticing something in the doorway, the figure looks up, it's Toz, her eyes are shrunken in her head, black bags under them, lips thin and wing blast cracked. For a moment we do not recognise each other. She mutters my name and gets up to hug me. The smell of urine fills the air, it gets closer as she moves nearer. Looking her up and down I see that she has stains on her tattered night gown. Hugging me slightly, the smell of urine is overpowering, now I know that it is her, she smells! A wave of disbelief washes over me.
She takes my hand and shows me around the house. Each room gets worse as we go through. She has two kids, a boy and a girl, both run around naked. I ask where Jok is, in return I get a icy stare and she mutters that an answer.
'He is in Gaol for murdering one of the kids', she exclaims in a low voice,'I though that you would have known about it all, it was all over the news for weeks.'
Shaking my head, I look at her.
'After you left, just after the wedding, it just kept going down hill, he began abusing me, destroying everything, he left with nothing, except one thing and that was this..' Her voice trailing off into the next room, begging me to follow.
Hesitantly I follow her, her back turned away from me, she slowly looks around, when it catches her eye, she picks it up and hands it to me.
'What is it?', I ask, it looks like nothing, or at least like nothing special.
'It's what you and Jarrod gave me for our wedding, I know that you guys got a divorce, but I'm just going to say that the present that we got with the voucher just made my day'
She says, her eyes piercing mine.It's a box, well I think that its a box, brown and wooden, there is latch, opening it, I see a picture of them together frame and the wedding rings placed separatly. A feeling of relief surges through me, at least it is nothing scary I think, a bit happier. A noise comes from outside, Toz looks up, almost afraid and starts ushering my out of the house, grabbing the box from my hands, chucking it to the ground. Something is wrong, I can sense it, she is trying to push me out of the back door. I lose my balance, losing a heel, she pushes me out the door, without noticing, closing the door behind me.I hear voices coming from inside, slowly opening the door, wanting to grab my shoe, the voice becomes recognisable.
Stepping into my heel and walking towards the kitchen, heels still making clopping noises, I walk into the space, realising who the voice belonged to. He has his arms around her, lips locked onto hers, eyes closed until I enter the room. When he sees me, he lets go of her, a look of suprise on his face. It's him. Jarrod. Walking up to her, who is completly oblivious to my presence, I whisper in her ear.'How could you? I hope that you rot in hell you lying bitch, I hope that Satan eats your soul and that you never find happiness again', bile rises in my throat and I walk out. AHe comes running after me screaming 'I was going to tell you!'.I get into my car and drive away, making a vow to myself to never come back again.
Formal
The wind was slightly blowing through my straight hair. I'm at the top of Point Danger, where you can see forever. A smirk creeps across my face.The cold metal of the bench sends shivers down my spine. In the far off distance are the waves crashing against the beach. A few surfers are dotted along the shoreline, waiting for the perfect wave.My formal dress flows around me, the silk sliding over my legs. I can feel my electric blue headband against my back, comforting my nerves of anticipation of the night to come.Dad is standing beside my, camera poised up to his eyes. He loves that camera, he claims that it only takes good photographs. I hear it clicking away. Looking at the camera, I smile and look away. The timely noise amuses me.My mind drifts somewhere else, the smell of the salty wind grabs my attention back to the present.Craig comes back and sits beside me, again the flickering of the flash continues. I tell dad that the flash doesn't need to be on, as the sun hasn't set. The constantly bright flahing light is blinding me, slowly anyhow.Looking behind me, the sun goes behind a cloud, making an orange solour fill the sky. The horizon is a red colour, whereas further away, is a precious purple.
Housemates
If only the kettle hadn't boiled over, it was one of thoes silly ones that skrieched at aa high pitch, gradually getting louder, until you switched it off.It wasn't my fault that Jason hadn't bothered to turn it off before he left. Housemates were like that, being lazy and half doing things, especially Jason. It was always left down to me to follow things through.The squealing cut had cut through my slumber, awakening me instantly. I jumped out of bed and ran to turn the stupid thing off.I turned around, out of breath, and felt a squelch, accompanied with a substance seeping through my toes. Dreading to look down, my eyes wandered in that direction. There under foot, lay a brow, mushy, warm object."Santa!", I yelled at the top of my lungs.That ungodly dog had come through the open doorway when Jason had left. Walking to the doorway, I could see the ashamed dog cowering in behind the compost bin, looking out at me.'Dumb Dog...' I muttered, shaking my fist at him.I didn't like dogs much anyway, have always preferred cats. More composed and stylish
Three People
If you want a writing exercise, do another "I remember" and introduce another character - someone else who was there. Let the story grow to take in the other person's story arc, even if you launch into totally imaginary directions.Or, pick up the photograph recall exercise we tried. Now set up the same scene but tell it from the point of view of the person who took the photograph. Was there someone who WASN'T in the photograph? where were they? why were they missing? What was going on for them? Set it up with all the concrete details necessary to anchor it in place
Just like an angel, her skin makes me cry, she is so soft. I adore her. Although I don’t know why she won’t open up and talk to me. I do not know what is going on in her life. She cries herself to sleep, I was with her once, she laid her head on my shoulder and whimpered to herself. Not speaking at all. I just held her in my arms. I made her feel comfortable, for once in her life. After awhile, she stood up and walked off, into the distance. I wish that she could open up to me, like she does to her friends. She laughs with them, her beautiful smile is framed by her free flowing hair, and it is a light shade of bronze with a slight wave to it. She’s perfect when she is with them, I’m not sure if it is her way of dealing with it, by hiding it behind a sheet of glass, protecting herself? But one day, someone is going to throw a brick through it, and the glass is going to shatter into a million pieces. I want to be the one that is there to pick up the broken pieces and help put herself back together. No matter what, she needs to know that I am going to be there for her, I’m never going to leave, because she is my angel, which has fallen from heaven.
My boy, has become obsessed with this schizophrenic, she comes around to his granny flat, and sit there. Not talking. Not moving. Sitting watching the sun go down. It is appalling. She constantly cries. What am I going to do with my boy? He is all that I have got, since his father died. I depend on him, whether or not I want to admit or not, but I am. She sucks the life out of him. I cannot have a decent conversation with him, without her name being brought up within 25 seconds. He thinks that he is in love with her. But he cannot be! How is this possible? She is nothing like his biological mother. She sees, hears and thinks strange things, things that do not exist. I mean my life is screwed up as it is; we do not need this tag along to ruin it even more. She has no job. No money. No life. This is not the life that I want him to lead, a life of a no hoper. He has everything in front of him, university, jobs, marriage and life! I will not let him throw that all down the drain.
I really shouldn’t have anything to do with it, but I cannot help but to overhear the conversations that go on beside me. I in fact live between two families, on either side of my house. Both of the neighbours have two teenagers which are in love with other. It is beautiful love. They forever look into each other’s eyes; they can see the world throughout. They both come from a broken past. The girl’s father left them when she was 6. It devastated her mother clearly. She used to stand at the bottom of the driveway, shouting obscenities at each male driver that went past. The girl ran away a few times, each time the police found her and brought her back. It is said among the neighbours, that the mother sleeps with one of the police, but one cannot be sure.
On the other side of my fence is the boy, his father and sometimes the father’s many male partners. The boy finished school last year and works part time at the local supermarket. Most of the locals do their weekly shopping there, which is a bad, as many of the locals throw rotten eggs at him, or over ripe tomatoes. They do not like that his dad is a homosexual. You would think that it wouldn’t matter; I mean it is the 21st century. Women have equal rights, Aboriginals can vote, so why is homosexuality not acceptable? I don’t know, but it is slightly sad. The father lives off Centrelink, they both live off what the boy makes at the supermarket. I assume that it is barely anything.
I go through their rubbish sometimes, finding many empty cans of baked beans and spaghetti. And of course many used condoms, which is somewhat of a surprise. They spend more money on protection rather than food? Interesting!
The boy and the girl find solstice within each other, they escape their own horrible lives to accept and be with each other, although I do not know how ling it is going to last. I’d personally only give it another few months, as the boy is going to university in another state sometime next year. She has been having other males in her bedroom, tying them up to her bed, blindfolding them and having her way with them. She has never done that to the boy. I think that I have never seen them in her room. The boy doesn’t know about the other men. He wouldn’t keep seeing her if he knew.
Just like an angel, her skin makes me cry, she is so soft. I adore her. Although I don’t know why she won’t open up and talk to me. I do not know what is going on in her life. She cries herself to sleep, I was with her once, she laid her head on my shoulder and whimpered to herself. Not speaking at all. I just held her in my arms. I made her feel comfortable, for once in her life. After awhile, she stood up and walked off, into the distance. I wish that she could open up to me, like she does to her friends. She laughs with them, her beautiful smile is framed by her free flowing hair, and it is a light shade of bronze with a slight wave to it. She’s perfect when she is with them, I’m not sure if it is her way of dealing with it, by hiding it behind a sheet of glass, protecting herself? But one day, someone is going to throw a brick through it, and the glass is going to shatter into a million pieces. I want to be the one that is there to pick up the broken pieces and help put herself back together. No matter what, she needs to know that I am going to be there for her, I’m never going to leave, because she is my angel, which has fallen from heaven.
My boy, has become obsessed with this schizophrenic, she comes around to his granny flat, and sit there. Not talking. Not moving. Sitting watching the sun go down. It is appalling. She constantly cries. What am I going to do with my boy? He is all that I have got, since his father died. I depend on him, whether or not I want to admit or not, but I am. She sucks the life out of him. I cannot have a decent conversation with him, without her name being brought up within 25 seconds. He thinks that he is in love with her. But he cannot be! How is this possible? She is nothing like his biological mother. She sees, hears and thinks strange things, things that do not exist. I mean my life is screwed up as it is; we do not need this tag along to ruin it even more. She has no job. No money. No life. This is not the life that I want him to lead, a life of a no hoper. He has everything in front of him, university, jobs, marriage and life! I will not let him throw that all down the drain.
I really shouldn’t have anything to do with it, but I cannot help but to overhear the conversations that go on beside me. I in fact live between two families, on either side of my house. Both of the neighbours have two teenagers which are in love with other. It is beautiful love. They forever look into each other’s eyes; they can see the world throughout. They both come from a broken past. The girl’s father left them when she was 6. It devastated her mother clearly. She used to stand at the bottom of the driveway, shouting obscenities at each male driver that went past. The girl ran away a few times, each time the police found her and brought her back. It is said among the neighbours, that the mother sleeps with one of the police, but one cannot be sure.
On the other side of my fence is the boy, his father and sometimes the father’s many male partners. The boy finished school last year and works part time at the local supermarket. Most of the locals do their weekly shopping there, which is a bad, as many of the locals throw rotten eggs at him, or over ripe tomatoes. They do not like that his dad is a homosexual. You would think that it wouldn’t matter; I mean it is the 21st century. Women have equal rights, Aboriginals can vote, so why is homosexuality not acceptable? I don’t know, but it is slightly sad. The father lives off Centrelink, they both live off what the boy makes at the supermarket. I assume that it is barely anything.
I go through their rubbish sometimes, finding many empty cans of baked beans and spaghetti. And of course many used condoms, which is somewhat of a surprise. They spend more money on protection rather than food? Interesting!
The boy and the girl find solstice within each other, they escape their own horrible lives to accept and be with each other, although I do not know how ling it is going to last. I’d personally only give it another few months, as the boy is going to university in another state sometime next year. She has been having other males in her bedroom, tying them up to her bed, blindfolding them and having her way with them. She has never done that to the boy. I think that I have never seen them in her room. The boy doesn’t know about the other men. He wouldn’t keep seeing her if he knew.
Banshee
The Tale of the Banshee
Simone Healy
There we sat, I’m absorbed in a book and he’s watching the game in his new toy, his 72” inch plasma. It almost takes up the whole room. His arm is around my shoulders, head nestling gently there. The opposing team run for the score line, and he jumps up, shouting obscenities at the referee. Who of course can’t hear him. I’m somewhat glad that we are not at the pitch, otherwise I’m sure that he would jump the fence to the pitch. Run up and tackle the team to try to stop them form scoring.
Shaking my head at his groans, they scored and it was converted too. This place needs to be cleaned, I think, whilst scanning the room. The television needs to be dusted, our plush Italian leather, which is inhabitant by two people at the current moment in time needs a good vacuum. I can see tonight’s dinner dishes sitting in the stains steel kitchen, the clean parts gleam in the moonlight.
The windows fill the wall, past them is our swimming pool, reflecting the light off the house and the moon. Hanging behind me is an original Van Gogh. Sunflowers. I like to get lost in it. Imagining myself living in one of the flowers, being covered in pollen, shrouded from life and all its troubles.
He, who is my husband, sits down, after finishing his abusive rampage with the T.V.
Standing up I tell him that I’m going to check my emails and then going to go to bed. He mumbles something, without looking up, eyes mesmerised still on the game.
Up to my study I go. Logging in, the blue light illuminates the room, ‘Windows XP Loading…” flashes up on my screen. It is so conforming, that’s why I hate some computers, they are all the same. ‘I need to take it to the shop to get the processing power fixed. It’s so slow!’ I mumble.
I have a few emails, nothing interesting. Mainly spam, wanting to know if I want to enlarge my penis. They never bothered to check my gender. It’s like I haven’t got a penis, would you like to check? Obviously not!
Oh, a thought passed my mind, reminding me of the need to see if Daniella was online. Signing into Chat Live, please confirm your password banshee24. Yes, Daniella is online, we talk about her being a prostitute and what she does to please the men, I pick up a few tips! Ending the conversation with a smiley face, tongue poking out, it makes me feel cheeky. Logging off I go to bed.
Simone Healy
There we sat, I’m absorbed in a book and he’s watching the game in his new toy, his 72” inch plasma. It almost takes up the whole room. His arm is around my shoulders, head nestling gently there. The opposing team run for the score line, and he jumps up, shouting obscenities at the referee. Who of course can’t hear him. I’m somewhat glad that we are not at the pitch, otherwise I’m sure that he would jump the fence to the pitch. Run up and tackle the team to try to stop them form scoring.
Shaking my head at his groans, they scored and it was converted too. This place needs to be cleaned, I think, whilst scanning the room. The television needs to be dusted, our plush Italian leather, which is inhabitant by two people at the current moment in time needs a good vacuum. I can see tonight’s dinner dishes sitting in the stains steel kitchen, the clean parts gleam in the moonlight.
The windows fill the wall, past them is our swimming pool, reflecting the light off the house and the moon. Hanging behind me is an original Van Gogh. Sunflowers. I like to get lost in it. Imagining myself living in one of the flowers, being covered in pollen, shrouded from life and all its troubles.
He, who is my husband, sits down, after finishing his abusive rampage with the T.V.
Standing up I tell him that I’m going to check my emails and then going to go to bed. He mumbles something, without looking up, eyes mesmerised still on the game.
Up to my study I go. Logging in, the blue light illuminates the room, ‘Windows XP Loading…” flashes up on my screen. It is so conforming, that’s why I hate some computers, they are all the same. ‘I need to take it to the shop to get the processing power fixed. It’s so slow!’ I mumble.
I have a few emails, nothing interesting. Mainly spam, wanting to know if I want to enlarge my penis. They never bothered to check my gender. It’s like I haven’t got a penis, would you like to check? Obviously not!
Oh, a thought passed my mind, reminding me of the need to see if Daniella was online. Signing into Chat Live, please confirm your password banshee24. Yes, Daniella is online, we talk about her being a prostitute and what she does to please the men, I pick up a few tips! Ending the conversation with a smiley face, tongue poking out, it makes me feel cheeky. Logging off I go to bed.
*
‘BEEP, BEEP, BEEP!’ Oh Snap! I look over to the stupid alarm clock, 3.30am, the thought of deciding not to go to work muses me. Throwing my arm over to the other side of the bed, I find that he is already up and the aroma of coffee wafts up the stairs. Chucking on a nightgown, I sidle down the stairs. Through the corner of my eye, he is visible, standing in the kitchen, back turned towards me. I go closer to him, and wrap my arms around him. He gets a shock and moves away, I guess that he didn’t hear me coming. All ready for work in his suit, brief case standing on the bench, laptop poking out of it. His phone on the bench beside it. He mumbles that he didn’t sleep last night and the game was screwed up. Putting down his coffee down on the marble bench, he pecks me on the cheek and grabs his laptop. Walking out the door, he doesn’t glance at me like he usually did when he left.
When we first became married it was good, we were happy, had our honeymoon in Austria, in the snow. It was fabulous! But its changed, that is what everyone was telling me, that it would be different. I miss the old him, he was proud of me, always all over me, kissing me and playfully slapping me on the ass. I don’t know how to get back to that way again. Together we were trying for a baby, and I’m not sure if I am pregnant or not. I will have to get a test today.
*
Closing the door, I head to my car. We are somewhat distance, my wife and I, but there is nothing that I can do about it now. Starting the engine, I grip onto the steering wheel, thinking of the day to come. It is 3.45am, I need to be at work in 45 minutes, it is a possible journey, just one that I do not want to make. It would be easier if work was closer. But I don’t want to be near her, she repulses me, I have no idea why. I was in love with her months ago, when we were trying for a baby. She may be pregnant now for all I know. I pull out of the driveway, and the highway stretches out in front of me. Half an hour passes and I hit the city, the lights glare down on the road, dimming between the lights, then becoming bright, over and over again. Turning off the highway, and down to a street off my workplace, I see the usual amount of people on the street corners.
They are scantily clad, the four of them, obviously waiting for their shift to end or someone to pick them up. The general dress is fishnet stockings, short skirts, short shorts and a bikini top or a bra. One catches my eye, she is beautiful, she wears a black corset, black fishnets and a black g-string, which shows off her ass perfectly, she reminds me of my wife, the way that she used to dress before we got married. I look her up and down and lick me lips. It is 4.30am, I will need to hurry for me not to be late, I drive off, stealing my eyes away from the sight.
*
It is late and I had better be going home. Pressing the elevator button to go down, it opens and I step in. I watch the floors go down. 210.. 156.. 101.. 42... 32.. 3.. 2..1.. G.. B. Looking down at my hands I check to make sure that I have everything, my phone, wallet, laptop and case. Yes it’s all in order. I waltz over to my car, looking around for anyone that I may know. I get into my car and begin making my way out of the car park.
It is late and I had better be going home. Pressing the elevator button to go down, it opens and I step in. I watch the floors go down. 210.. 156.. 101.. 42... 32.. 3.. 2..1.. G.. B. Looking down at my hands I check to make sure that I have everything, my phone, wallet, laptop and case. Yes it’s all in order. I waltz over to my car, looking around for anyone that I may know. I get into my car and begin making my way out of the car park.
*
He pulls up beside me. The passenger window is wound down, and a head pops out.
‘What can I do for ya?’ I ask, with a slur in my voice, chewing on a piece of gum.
‘I’m looking for some company, am I at the right place?’ he asks, looking me in the eye.
‘If you’re gonna pay the right price, ya might be.’ I say, watching him out of the corner of my eye.
I hesitate for a second, drop my fag out of my hand and squish it with the top on my stiletto. Pulling the handle open, I get into his luxury car. He must be rich, he has satellite navigation, a sound system and is wearing a high priced suit. These are the men that I usually get. Ugly. Depressed. Rich. They almost always have insecurities and a wife at home. Sometimes I feel guilty but other times I couldn’t care less. He asks my name, I reply, ‘Daniella, and what’s it to ya?’
‘I just want to know the name of the woman that I am taking home tonight’ he remarks with a smirk on his face, ‘Oh and my name is Mark, so you had better remember it, as you will be screaming it tonight’
I laugh to myself. His confidence is amusing. This is going to be an interesting night. We pull up outside the Versace hotel. He has to be made of money, this is only where the high rollers come. Walking up to the counter, he asks for the reservation of Mark. He grabs the keys and pulls me into him, smelling my scent. He licks my ear, and I bite him back. The attendant gives me a disapproving look, shaking her head. Screw her I think. I make more money in one night then what you do in a week. We hit the elevator button and disappear upstairs.
He pulls up beside me. The passenger window is wound down, and a head pops out.
‘What can I do for ya?’ I ask, with a slur in my voice, chewing on a piece of gum.
‘I’m looking for some company, am I at the right place?’ he asks, looking me in the eye.
‘If you’re gonna pay the right price, ya might be.’ I say, watching him out of the corner of my eye.
I hesitate for a second, drop my fag out of my hand and squish it with the top on my stiletto. Pulling the handle open, I get into his luxury car. He must be rich, he has satellite navigation, a sound system and is wearing a high priced suit. These are the men that I usually get. Ugly. Depressed. Rich. They almost always have insecurities and a wife at home. Sometimes I feel guilty but other times I couldn’t care less. He asks my name, I reply, ‘Daniella, and what’s it to ya?’
‘I just want to know the name of the woman that I am taking home tonight’ he remarks with a smirk on his face, ‘Oh and my name is Mark, so you had better remember it, as you will be screaming it tonight’
I laugh to myself. His confidence is amusing. This is going to be an interesting night. We pull up outside the Versace hotel. He has to be made of money, this is only where the high rollers come. Walking up to the counter, he asks for the reservation of Mark. He grabs the keys and pulls me into him, smelling my scent. He licks my ear, and I bite him back. The attendant gives me a disapproving look, shaking her head. Screw her I think. I make more money in one night then what you do in a week. We hit the elevator button and disappear upstairs.
*
Work was terrible, my feet ache, and it is 10.20pm and he is not home yet. I can usually hear his car pull up on the driveway about 7.30pm. And now I am worried. He could’ve been in a car accident, or pulled over by the cops. Or something! I try calling his phone, no one answers. After my fifth call, the phone is turned off. Where is he!?! Half an hour goes by, his phone still off. I ring the police, asking if there was any accidents on the highway, or any of the routes that he takes. Nope, nada, no. None on any of them. Where could he be?
I turn on the plasma, on channel v, the song playing, is Gwen Stefani’s ‘It’s My Life”. It’s at the part where she kills her lover. It is interesting! I’m glad that I never had a lover. Just watching the television allows me to be lost, for a while. It’s 12.20am, jeez! I hear something at the driveway. It is a car. I get up and look out the window. It’s him. There’s nothing wrong with his car, in perfect nick. I wonder what his excuse is.
He opens the door and walks in. Leaving his case at the door and taking his jacket off, hanging it off you wedding present or a coat rack. He looks at me, and I smile. Seeing this, he seems to relax.
‘What happened, hun?’ I asked.
‘ I got caught at work. Sorry I didn’t ring my phone died, and I left my charger at home. I missed you, how was your day?’ He asks.
Somewhat unconvinced, as when he stops in the light I see the remains of a red kiss outline on his cheek bone. ‘I had on okay day at work. I think that I may take a day off tomorrow, I’m not feeling well’
‘Okay beautiful, I’m glad that work was good, did u want me to stay at home to look after you?’ he asks.
‘No, no its okay, thanks though.’ I say and turn around and look at the television. He sits down with me, and he smells sweet. I can’t place my finger on what it is, but it is familiar.
After a few minutes I get up and say that I’m going to check my emails and go to bed. I kiss him where the red mark is on his face, he jumps, not expecting it. Telling me that he has to check his too, and gets up and goes to his study.
I sort myself out on the computer, logging on to Chat Live, wanting to print something, I go into his study and he is on chat live too. His name is sexyman23, and he is talking to Daniella. Hmm interesting. Walking into the room, he hurriedly minimises the chat log screen, and spins around what I am doing. I grab the paper and go, he smiles at me.
I see that a new person has started to talking to me. It is him! I’m slightly confused, why is he talking to me, when I am in the next room? Maybe he wants to talk to me? Or maybe he does not know that it is me? Pulling up the conversation with Daniella, she begins telling me about this man that picked her up tonight. He was tall handsome and knew what he was doing. She didn’t mind having him! And she was treated like royalty, they went to the Versace and she was paid for sex. It sounds better than my job.
He seems interested in me. We talk about everything over the next two hours. He does not realise that it is me. I discover that he thinks that his wife is pregnant (me), and that he is drawn away from me because we don’t have sex anymore and also because I am working too much. I am pregnant, actually. I took one of those tests, the ones that u pee on. And it came up positive. Do I tell him? Or leave it for now?
I also find out that he slept with a hooker. One that is on the corner opposite his workplace. It apparently was good. I’m utterly dumbstruck. He cheated on me tonight! SO that’s why he took so long in getting home!! I’m tempted to go in there and castrate him! How dare he! No, No I’m going to get my revenge on him, he will see. I tell him that I have to go to bed now, as I have to start work soon. He gets upset and begs me to stay. I decline his offer, and say that I will be online tomorrow, and with that answer he is happy.
I print out my email that I wanted to and logged off my computer, at that instant he walks into my doorway and tells me that he is going to bed, then walks off. I follow him upstairs.
Work was terrible, my feet ache, and it is 10.20pm and he is not home yet. I can usually hear his car pull up on the driveway about 7.30pm. And now I am worried. He could’ve been in a car accident, or pulled over by the cops. Or something! I try calling his phone, no one answers. After my fifth call, the phone is turned off. Where is he!?! Half an hour goes by, his phone still off. I ring the police, asking if there was any accidents on the highway, or any of the routes that he takes. Nope, nada, no. None on any of them. Where could he be?
I turn on the plasma, on channel v, the song playing, is Gwen Stefani’s ‘It’s My Life”. It’s at the part where she kills her lover. It is interesting! I’m glad that I never had a lover. Just watching the television allows me to be lost, for a while. It’s 12.20am, jeez! I hear something at the driveway. It is a car. I get up and look out the window. It’s him. There’s nothing wrong with his car, in perfect nick. I wonder what his excuse is.
He opens the door and walks in. Leaving his case at the door and taking his jacket off, hanging it off you wedding present or a coat rack. He looks at me, and I smile. Seeing this, he seems to relax.
‘What happened, hun?’ I asked.
‘ I got caught at work. Sorry I didn’t ring my phone died, and I left my charger at home. I missed you, how was your day?’ He asks.
Somewhat unconvinced, as when he stops in the light I see the remains of a red kiss outline on his cheek bone. ‘I had on okay day at work. I think that I may take a day off tomorrow, I’m not feeling well’
‘Okay beautiful, I’m glad that work was good, did u want me to stay at home to look after you?’ he asks.
‘No, no its okay, thanks though.’ I say and turn around and look at the television. He sits down with me, and he smells sweet. I can’t place my finger on what it is, but it is familiar.
After a few minutes I get up and say that I’m going to check my emails and go to bed. I kiss him where the red mark is on his face, he jumps, not expecting it. Telling me that he has to check his too, and gets up and goes to his study.
I sort myself out on the computer, logging on to Chat Live, wanting to print something, I go into his study and he is on chat live too. His name is sexyman23, and he is talking to Daniella. Hmm interesting. Walking into the room, he hurriedly minimises the chat log screen, and spins around what I am doing. I grab the paper and go, he smiles at me.
I see that a new person has started to talking to me. It is him! I’m slightly confused, why is he talking to me, when I am in the next room? Maybe he wants to talk to me? Or maybe he does not know that it is me? Pulling up the conversation with Daniella, she begins telling me about this man that picked her up tonight. He was tall handsome and knew what he was doing. She didn’t mind having him! And she was treated like royalty, they went to the Versace and she was paid for sex. It sounds better than my job.
He seems interested in me. We talk about everything over the next two hours. He does not realise that it is me. I discover that he thinks that his wife is pregnant (me), and that he is drawn away from me because we don’t have sex anymore and also because I am working too much. I am pregnant, actually. I took one of those tests, the ones that u pee on. And it came up positive. Do I tell him? Or leave it for now?
I also find out that he slept with a hooker. One that is on the corner opposite his workplace. It apparently was good. I’m utterly dumbstruck. He cheated on me tonight! SO that’s why he took so long in getting home!! I’m tempted to go in there and castrate him! How dare he! No, No I’m going to get my revenge on him, he will see. I tell him that I have to go to bed now, as I have to start work soon. He gets upset and begs me to stay. I decline his offer, and say that I will be online tomorrow, and with that answer he is happy.
I print out my email that I wanted to and logged off my computer, at that instant he walks into my doorway and tells me that he is going to bed, then walks off. I follow him upstairs.
*
‘BEEP, BEEP, BEEP’ sounds the alarm clock from upstairs. I am sitting downstairs, drinking my coffee, long, strong and black. I could not sleep. Last night’s encounter left me speechless. Daniella was beautiful and certainly talented. I did not expect it to feel so good. I do not consider it cheating because there was no feelings involved. My wife tried to have sex with me last night and I said no. Only because I was so sore from during the day. It would have been cheaper to just have sex with her. The prostitute cost $2170, there goes one weeks wages. If I go again tonight, I will get discount because I satisfied her. That is a bonus, I could never satisfy my wife. I hear a tumble noise come from upstairs, she must be up. I was talking to this wonderful woman online last night, her screen name was banshee24, she was really easy to open up to and talk to about everything, unlike my wife.
Here she comes. Down the stairs, in that tarty little leopard print dressing gown, barefoot. She looks up at me, I am ready to go to work, she always gets up to see me off. Turning to me, she tells me that she is pregnant. I look at her, dumbfounded. A part of me is overjoyed and the other half is dying inside, there goes my independence and my fun. Who is going to have to give up their day job? I do not want to be a stay at home dad! Okay, I am defiantly going to see Daniella tonight!
How could this happen to us? I do not want her to be pregnant!
Still flabbergasted that she has just told me this, when I am about to walk out the door! After a few seconds I say to her ‘That Is great honey.’ with no hint of enthusiasm. I peck her on the cheek and grab my stuff to go. Walking out the door she is still staring at me, hands by her side and shoulders half crouched over. I close the door, leaving behind all the anger, frustration, and sadness behind me.
‘BEEP, BEEP, BEEP’ sounds the alarm clock from upstairs. I am sitting downstairs, drinking my coffee, long, strong and black. I could not sleep. Last night’s encounter left me speechless. Daniella was beautiful and certainly talented. I did not expect it to feel so good. I do not consider it cheating because there was no feelings involved. My wife tried to have sex with me last night and I said no. Only because I was so sore from during the day. It would have been cheaper to just have sex with her. The prostitute cost $2170, there goes one weeks wages. If I go again tonight, I will get discount because I satisfied her. That is a bonus, I could never satisfy my wife. I hear a tumble noise come from upstairs, she must be up. I was talking to this wonderful woman online last night, her screen name was banshee24, she was really easy to open up to and talk to about everything, unlike my wife.
Here she comes. Down the stairs, in that tarty little leopard print dressing gown, barefoot. She looks up at me, I am ready to go to work, she always gets up to see me off. Turning to me, she tells me that she is pregnant. I look at her, dumbfounded. A part of me is overjoyed and the other half is dying inside, there goes my independence and my fun. Who is going to have to give up their day job? I do not want to be a stay at home dad! Okay, I am defiantly going to see Daniella tonight!
How could this happen to us? I do not want her to be pregnant!
Still flabbergasted that she has just told me this, when I am about to walk out the door! After a few seconds I say to her ‘That Is great honey.’ with no hint of enthusiasm. I peck her on the cheek and grab my stuff to go. Walking out the door she is still staring at me, hands by her side and shoulders half crouched over. I close the door, leaving behind all the anger, frustration, and sadness behind me.
*
That is great honey. That’s what my husband said. That is great honey. That is great honey. The words keep going round and around in my head. Should have seen his face drop when I told him. It was like the whole world was coming to an end. And I could see the thoughts of loosing his independence floating around in his head. It depresses me that he can think these thoughts. I think that he just needs time to think. I’m going back to bed, it is only 3.45am, and seeming as I’m not going to work today, I can sleep in.
*
I awake to me falling on the floor of the room, I must have misjudged the bed width when I was moving. Whoops! But it is a lovely day, the sun is shining and the crickets are clicking. Haha, he has to work. I put on the kettle and whilst waiting for it to boil, I log on my computer. No new facebook comments and another 6 enlargement penis emails. Chat Live, have sent me an email, say that sexyman23 has sent me a private message. Clicking on the link, it opens up to another page, full of live hearts and kiss marks. A message is inscribed on the page.
Dear banshee24,
I need to meet up with you, it is urgent. My wife is pregnant and I need someone to talk to. My way of dealing with this is by talking. Will you talk to me?
I am online now. Contact me, in a private conversation.
Sincerely,
Sexyman23.
My heart skips a beat, what do I do? A pop up on the right hand side of my screen comes up, informing me that sexyman23 has just come online. I change my status to away, and go make myself a cup of tea. What if it is more that talking? I mean that I already know that he has slept with one whore last night. I shall see if he comes home early tonight I will say no, but if he comes home late I will say yes.
I awake to me falling on the floor of the room, I must have misjudged the bed width when I was moving. Whoops! But it is a lovely day, the sun is shining and the crickets are clicking. Haha, he has to work. I put on the kettle and whilst waiting for it to boil, I log on my computer. No new facebook comments and another 6 enlargement penis emails. Chat Live, have sent me an email, say that sexyman23 has sent me a private message. Clicking on the link, it opens up to another page, full of live hearts and kiss marks. A message is inscribed on the page.
Dear banshee24,
I need to meet up with you, it is urgent. My wife is pregnant and I need someone to talk to. My way of dealing with this is by talking. Will you talk to me?
I am online now. Contact me, in a private conversation.
Sincerely,
Sexyman23.
My heart skips a beat, what do I do? A pop up on the right hand side of my screen comes up, informing me that sexyman23 has just come online. I change my status to away, and go make myself a cup of tea. What if it is more that talking? I mean that I already know that he has slept with one whore last night. I shall see if he comes home early tonight I will say no, but if he comes home late I will say yes.
*
Yes it is home time. Finally. I am still waiting for the reply from banshee24. My wife will not be happy, I am going to be late again. Daniella and I are going to go ‘out’ again. Last night was great. Leaving the building, I briefly think of my wife and my unborn child. A feeling of guilt grips my stomach but I push it aside.
Yes it is home time. Finally. I am still waiting for the reply from banshee24. My wife will not be happy, I am going to be late again. Daniella and I are going to go ‘out’ again. Last night was great. Leaving the building, I briefly think of my wife and my unborn child. A feeling of guilt grips my stomach but I push it aside.
*
He’s late again. It’s midnight and he’s still not home. I’m not worried. I know where he is. With another prostitute. Or someone that he has picked up. I mean he is a good looking man and could get practically anyone. Sometimes I can’t understand why he is with me. I’m just 5 foot 8”, long brown hair and a waist to die for. I’m not the best in the world. I jump on my computer, and respond to his message.
He’s late again. It’s midnight and he’s still not home. I’m not worried. I know where he is. With another prostitute. Or someone that he has picked up. I mean he is a good looking man and could get practically anyone. Sometimes I can’t understand why he is with me. I’m just 5 foot 8”, long brown hair and a waist to die for. I’m not the best in the world. I jump on my computer, and respond to his message.
Dear sexyman23,
I would be delighted to meet with you.
How does tomorrow sound?
Where do you want to meet, as you cannot come here, my husband would find me out.
Hope to talk to you very soon,
Banshee24
I pause, and think for a second. Do I want to inflict revenge? Do I want to be a single mother and have to cope with everything by myself? I feel anxious for a second, slightly sick, then decide that no one does this to me, and I slam my finger down on the enter button, to send. The words ‘Sending message’ flash up on the screen. This will be fun, I mutter to myself, with a small smirk on my face. Then, as if far away I hear a car pull up in the driveway. I go to greet my husband.
His hand just touches the door handle, when I rip it open. He is surprised to see me, a stunned look plastered on his face.
‘Where have you been?’ I ask with a sharp tone in my voice.
‘No where,’ he mutters!
‘Yeah bullshit. Tell me where you have been!’
‘I haven’t been anywhere,’ he repeats
‘I don’t believe you! Where have you been? I bet that it was out with some prostitute, wasn’t it?’ I demand.
He looks downcast, as his feet.
‘No’ he answers after a few seconds pause
‘You are just like a little child, I can tell when you are lying! How could you do this to me? I am pregnant with your child and I love you. Can’t you see it in my eyes..‘ I say and grab his face, making him look at me.
A look of hatred nestles in his iris, pure loathing.
‘How dare you look at me like that! I am not in the wrong here! You are the one that is cheating on me.‘ Still looking into his eyes, I pull away and turn around and slap him on the face! Smack! The sound resonated through the whole house.
He looks at me in disbelief and horror.
‘You have never struck me before, why are you doing it now?’ He asks, knowing that he is in the wrong, half admitting it.
‘You know what? Yes, I slept with a hooker, she was better that you are or ever will be! You never want to have sex anymore, and I do not love you either. This is just a convenience thing for me.’ he yells at me, with passion, his whole face going bright red.
I look up at him, disbelief and pain surging through my body. I scream at him.
‘I hate YOU, I wish that I had never married you. I hate everything about you, your habits, your face, the way that you make the bed! EVERYTHING!’ Looking at him, his hands are clenched up at his side, face torn between anger and disappointment. I turn around and walk upstairs, to bed. Halfway up I turn and say ‘You are not welcome in this room tonight, go sleep somewhere else.’
*
After that comment she leaves me breathless, how could she be so heartless. I go to turn on my computer, my rage lashes out into my blood stream and I hit the desk, shaking and vibrating everything on it. When the stupid piece of machinery turns itself on, I find that banshee24 has replied to the message. The words somewhat sooth my temper. She wants to meet up! That makes me happy. Logging on to the Versace website I make a booking for tomorrow night, under the name Mark. I reply to her message with the details of where and when for the meeting. Somewhat more calm, I walk out of my study and up to the room. I hear her mumble ‘I told you that you were not welcome in here tonight!’ I ignore the comment and grab my pillow and a spare blanket and head towards the couch. There I have an uncomfortable sleep.
After that comment she leaves me breathless, how could she be so heartless. I go to turn on my computer, my rage lashes out into my blood stream and I hit the desk, shaking and vibrating everything on it. When the stupid piece of machinery turns itself on, I find that banshee24 has replied to the message. The words somewhat sooth my temper. She wants to meet up! That makes me happy. Logging on to the Versace website I make a booking for tomorrow night, under the name Mark. I reply to her message with the details of where and when for the meeting. Somewhat more calm, I walk out of my study and up to the room. I hear her mumble ‘I told you that you were not welcome in here tonight!’ I ignore the comment and grab my pillow and a spare blanket and head towards the couch. There I have an uncomfortable sleep.
*
When I wake up he is gone. What a night. I’m glad that I’m not going to have another one of them anytime soon, I think and rub my eyes. I know that there is going to be a message from him in my inbox, I can’t wait to read it. Bounding down the stairs, I put the kettle on, I feel good, really good! I knew it! I have a message from him! He wants to meet me at the Versace at 7.30pm, the reservation is under Mark. Jeez he is stupid, I thought that he would have used an alias name, but I guess not. Daniella is online, she starts to talk to me, we talk for a few seconds. Then it just clicks. Maybe Daniella was the prostitute that he slept with? She works on the same street as his work and she did say that she ‘had’ someone or work the past two nights. Out of curiosity, I question her.
Banshee24: Soo what was the man that you ‘worked’ with like?
Daniella: He was tall and handsome, has a bit of weight around the stomach, but is in alright shape.
Banshee24: And? What was his name?
Daniella: Ya know I’m not supposed to tell ya those things. It’s against policy.
Banshee24: Oh go on! I’m not going to tell anyone, and I probably won’t know them. You know that I live out in the sticks!
Daniella: Well, yah, ok. His names Mark and he works over the road in some fancy building. Wears a suit. Bit high class for moi.
Banshee24: Wow, sounds good! Listen, I have to go to work now, but I will talk to you soon. Are you going to see him again soon?
Daniella: Yeah, apparently not tonight but tomorrow night.
Banshee24: Have fun with that. C’ya.
The conversation makes me interested and angry. Out of all the women that he could have picked, he took Daniella the prostitute. I thought that he could do better than that. The news makes me glad that I am going to meet him tonight. Hmm, I have to go to work and stop off at the local shops, to pick up some “supplies”.
When I wake up he is gone. What a night. I’m glad that I’m not going to have another one of them anytime soon, I think and rub my eyes. I know that there is going to be a message from him in my inbox, I can’t wait to read it. Bounding down the stairs, I put the kettle on, I feel good, really good! I knew it! I have a message from him! He wants to meet me at the Versace at 7.30pm, the reservation is under Mark. Jeez he is stupid, I thought that he would have used an alias name, but I guess not. Daniella is online, she starts to talk to me, we talk for a few seconds. Then it just clicks. Maybe Daniella was the prostitute that he slept with? She works on the same street as his work and she did say that she ‘had’ someone or work the past two nights. Out of curiosity, I question her.
Banshee24: Soo what was the man that you ‘worked’ with like?
Daniella: He was tall and handsome, has a bit of weight around the stomach, but is in alright shape.
Banshee24: And? What was his name?
Daniella: Ya know I’m not supposed to tell ya those things. It’s against policy.
Banshee24: Oh go on! I’m not going to tell anyone, and I probably won’t know them. You know that I live out in the sticks!
Daniella: Well, yah, ok. His names Mark and he works over the road in some fancy building. Wears a suit. Bit high class for moi.
Banshee24: Wow, sounds good! Listen, I have to go to work now, but I will talk to you soon. Are you going to see him again soon?
Daniella: Yeah, apparently not tonight but tomorrow night.
Banshee24: Have fun with that. C’ya.
The conversation makes me interested and angry. Out of all the women that he could have picked, he took Daniella the prostitute. I thought that he could do better than that. The news makes me glad that I am going to meet him tonight. Hmm, I have to go to work and stop off at the local shops, to pick up some “supplies”.
*
It’s 6.30 and I am outside the Versace. I am shaking in anticipation. I have a blonde wig on, it’s a tightly curled one. Something like Marilyn Monroe’s hair. I’m wearing a skin tight red dress, and a pair of six inch wedges. Walking into the foyer, I look around. The only person visible is the receptionist. I ask for the keys to the reservation for Mark, handing them to be, she gives me a disapproving look. I head towards the elevator, thinking about what the look could mean. I give up after a few seconds. Meh, I think to myself, it doesn’t matter. Placing the key in the door, I am surprised at how spacious the room is. It overlooks the broad water, pastel coloured and beautiful.
Standing at the bed, I open my bag that I brought with me. In it is my new lingerie, a hair dryer, a million candles, a lighter, a night gown and strip of black material. With this all set out in front of me, I begin to get ready, I scatter the hoards of candles around the bathroom, lighting each one, methodically. A routine is established. Pick one up, light it, place it down with the design facing forwards. I turn on both the taps of the bath and let it run to fill up. 6.45pm I finish lighting them and begin to get myself ready.
Taking off my dress, I slide a corset over my arms, squeezing it down over my shoulders. I accidentally put it on sideways, so I need to slide it around, I giggle at my foolishness. I take the ribbon in my hands and fasten it, so that it pulls my stomach taught, squeezing my breasts together. I feel enhanced and sexy. I feel powerful and ready to take on the world. I pull on a g-string, one that shows off my ass perfectly. Grabbing the unopened pair of fishnet stockings, I open them and roll them over my legs. I attach them to my g-string with a tie. My elbow high black satin gloves, ah they take my breath away, making my arms look skinny and sexy. Standing up, I look through my bag, looking for the last essential, my 6 inch heels. I spin around and look at myself in the mirror. I can barely recognise myself. Here is this beautiful woman standing before me. She is tanned, blonde and wearing a black sexy outfit. She looks fabulous, and I am surprised at how good I look. Then I remember the bath! I forgot to turn it off. Running to the bathroom, I stop it before it gets to the top.
Walking into the bedroom, I clear the bed, leaving one item plugged into a power point in the bathroom and the other in my hand. Now I have to wait. He is going to be here any minute. I stand up and look at myself in the mirror again. I model for myself, it is fun! A knock at the door startles me. I walk over and open the door slightly. There he is. Waiting for me to open the door for him.
It’s 6.30 and I am outside the Versace. I am shaking in anticipation. I have a blonde wig on, it’s a tightly curled one. Something like Marilyn Monroe’s hair. I’m wearing a skin tight red dress, and a pair of six inch wedges. Walking into the foyer, I look around. The only person visible is the receptionist. I ask for the keys to the reservation for Mark, handing them to be, she gives me a disapproving look. I head towards the elevator, thinking about what the look could mean. I give up after a few seconds. Meh, I think to myself, it doesn’t matter. Placing the key in the door, I am surprised at how spacious the room is. It overlooks the broad water, pastel coloured and beautiful.
Standing at the bed, I open my bag that I brought with me. In it is my new lingerie, a hair dryer, a million candles, a lighter, a night gown and strip of black material. With this all set out in front of me, I begin to get ready, I scatter the hoards of candles around the bathroom, lighting each one, methodically. A routine is established. Pick one up, light it, place it down with the design facing forwards. I turn on both the taps of the bath and let it run to fill up. 6.45pm I finish lighting them and begin to get myself ready.
Taking off my dress, I slide a corset over my arms, squeezing it down over my shoulders. I accidentally put it on sideways, so I need to slide it around, I giggle at my foolishness. I take the ribbon in my hands and fasten it, so that it pulls my stomach taught, squeezing my breasts together. I feel enhanced and sexy. I feel powerful and ready to take on the world. I pull on a g-string, one that shows off my ass perfectly. Grabbing the unopened pair of fishnet stockings, I open them and roll them over my legs. I attach them to my g-string with a tie. My elbow high black satin gloves, ah they take my breath away, making my arms look skinny and sexy. Standing up, I look through my bag, looking for the last essential, my 6 inch heels. I spin around and look at myself in the mirror. I can barely recognise myself. Here is this beautiful woman standing before me. She is tanned, blonde and wearing a black sexy outfit. She looks fabulous, and I am surprised at how good I look. Then I remember the bath! I forgot to turn it off. Running to the bathroom, I stop it before it gets to the top.
Walking into the bedroom, I clear the bed, leaving one item plugged into a power point in the bathroom and the other in my hand. Now I have to wait. He is going to be here any minute. I stand up and look at myself in the mirror again. I model for myself, it is fun! A knock at the door startles me. I walk over and open the door slightly. There he is. Waiting for me to open the door for him.
*
I know that she is in there, I can see that she has opened the door a crack. She opens it more and commands me to come in with my eyes closed. I do as I am told. Walking in the door, she puts something over my eyes, tying it tightly around my head. She takes my hand, and leads me into what I think is the bathroom, from the way that her heels click against the floor. Whispering in my ear, and nibbling my neck makes me excited. I ask her to take off the blindfold, she just puts her finger on my lips and shushes me. I feel her hands inside my suit, she feels my nipples through the shirt. Pulling the suit off, the buttons of my suit are beginning to come undone, one by one, exposing my chest.
When all of them are undone, she untucks the shirt from my pants and lets it too drop to the floor. My belt is the next thing to come off. She whips it out of the material with a shhhlip. Pain surges through me as she lashs me with it on my arse. I yelp out in surprise! She tells me to be quiet. I obey. She slowly undoes my zipper of the pants, and the button, expecting her to take them off slowly too, she whips them down, exposing my banana man boxers. She tells me to take off my shoes and socks, and stand still in that spot. Kicking off my pants too, she scratches me chest, all the way down to my boxers. Without stopping she slides her hands down them, cradling my bum in her hands. She slips them down my legs and I groan slowly. Whispering in my ear, I’m told that I’m going to be getting into the bath, and if I touch the blindfold then there will be trouble. At the mention of trouble she bites my nipple, I cringe. She guides me to the tub and allows me to sit in the hot water, bathing.
After a few minutes of her walking around in the bathroom, I can feel her presence come closer to me. Reaching behind my head she undoes the blind fold. The light blinding me, I cannot see for a few seconds, when my eyes adjust, I see this beautiful woman standing in front of me. She has curly blonde hair, dressed so sexily that I just want her now. She towers over me. I am awestruck. She begins to talk, and her voice sounds familiar.
I know that she is in there, I can see that she has opened the door a crack. She opens it more and commands me to come in with my eyes closed. I do as I am told. Walking in the door, she puts something over my eyes, tying it tightly around my head. She takes my hand, and leads me into what I think is the bathroom, from the way that her heels click against the floor. Whispering in my ear, and nibbling my neck makes me excited. I ask her to take off the blindfold, she just puts her finger on my lips and shushes me. I feel her hands inside my suit, she feels my nipples through the shirt. Pulling the suit off, the buttons of my suit are beginning to come undone, one by one, exposing my chest.
When all of them are undone, she untucks the shirt from my pants and lets it too drop to the floor. My belt is the next thing to come off. She whips it out of the material with a shhhlip. Pain surges through me as she lashs me with it on my arse. I yelp out in surprise! She tells me to be quiet. I obey. She slowly undoes my zipper of the pants, and the button, expecting her to take them off slowly too, she whips them down, exposing my banana man boxers. She tells me to take off my shoes and socks, and stand still in that spot. Kicking off my pants too, she scratches me chest, all the way down to my boxers. Without stopping she slides her hands down them, cradling my bum in her hands. She slips them down my legs and I groan slowly. Whispering in my ear, I’m told that I’m going to be getting into the bath, and if I touch the blindfold then there will be trouble. At the mention of trouble she bites my nipple, I cringe. She guides me to the tub and allows me to sit in the hot water, bathing.
After a few minutes of her walking around in the bathroom, I can feel her presence come closer to me. Reaching behind my head she undoes the blind fold. The light blinding me, I cannot see for a few seconds, when my eyes adjust, I see this beautiful woman standing in front of me. She has curly blonde hair, dressed so sexily that I just want her now. She towers over me. I am awestruck. She begins to talk, and her voice sounds familiar.
*
Two hands behind me, I start to talk. ‘I have been waiting for this moment all my life babe’ I tell him. He stares up at me, a look of lust and adoration in his eyes. Reaching behind my head, I feel for the back of the wig. When I have it, I rip it off and my brown curls fall onto my shoulders, an ‘Oh’ is emitted from his mouth. ‘This will teach you for cheating on me,’ I say, turning on the hairdryer, I toss it into the bathwater. He tries to lunge out the bath, but the electricity is too quick. He is dead in a matter of nanoseconds. The lights go on and off, not liking the water. I hurriedly walk away . Into the bedroom, I grab my bag, quickly slip another black dress on, shoving the wig into my bag. I get to the elevator, and press the ground floor. Just as the door closes I see the hotel staff running out of the lift, to check the commotion. I just missed them. When I get out, no one is at the receptionist’s desk and I waltz out of the building.
Two hands behind me, I start to talk. ‘I have been waiting for this moment all my life babe’ I tell him. He stares up at me, a look of lust and adoration in his eyes. Reaching behind my head, I feel for the back of the wig. When I have it, I rip it off and my brown curls fall onto my shoulders, an ‘Oh’ is emitted from his mouth. ‘This will teach you for cheating on me,’ I say, turning on the hairdryer, I toss it into the bathwater. He tries to lunge out the bath, but the electricity is too quick. He is dead in a matter of nanoseconds. The lights go on and off, not liking the water. I hurriedly walk away . Into the bedroom, I grab my bag, quickly slip another black dress on, shoving the wig into my bag. I get to the elevator, and press the ground floor. Just as the door closes I see the hotel staff running out of the lift, to check the commotion. I just missed them. When I get out, no one is at the receptionist’s desk and I waltz out of the building.
Simone Healy 2008
Stall
Stall
You can find me, hiding in the background of the local markets. The bright lights trying to highlight my face. I stand behind the hanging skinned cats, chickens, panda parts, rabbits and pheasants. I’m not like the other shopkeepers, I do not yell at the foreign tourists. I prefer to stand quietly, and people seem to be drawn to me. Am I? I do not know. I consider myself plain. They come up to me, not trying to barter my prices down, but just accept them, they hand me the money and don’t ask for the change. I take the hanging meat off the hook and place it in a bag, they usually smile at me, saying thanks. That’s the extent of my night. Selling things and hiding behind the meat.
I like to stare off into the distance, looking into the apartments that are across the pavement. I think that they are overpopulated. The building stands fifty storeys high, looming above, the night coats it in darkness, like a blanket. Occasionally lights flick on and off, but one in particular, no matter what the time of day, she keeps the light on. She lives on the 4th floor, so I can see her perfectly no matter what time of the day. I find her so intriguing. I spend most of my time looking at her when I’m not serving the customers. She tends not to move from her house. I stand here most of the day and the night, not leaving the stall unless to sleep. I have not once seen her leave the building in the six months that I have worked here.
I see her sitting at her computer, the computer screen lighting up her face, a pale colour of cream. She faces out the window. I have counted the different smiles that she makes. The smirk, that creeps across her face, it is almost a frown but it’s not quite. The bopping, when she bangs her head to the music, the broad smile that fills her face, lighting up her eyes. The half smile, where her smile goes up and down at the same time. This is the one that she has when her phone rings and she does not want to pick it up. She sometimes has people come visit her. She takes a break from her computer, I know what she is doing. I can see from the shadow that the lamp makes. Her outline is plastered over the wall, intertwined with his. She performs unthought of things. I wish that the attention that she was paying him, she was paying to me.
The customers occasionally distract me from my thoughts about her, they want cats and dogs, that are hanging up on my stall, all dead. After they are gone I look up at her, again and watch her. Sometimes I wish that I was there, holding her in my arms, hugging her and keeping her close. The other market keepers have a fair idea what I look at, but they still ask what I stare at. They think that I stare at the old man that lives in the room beside her. It is wrong, he sits on his window sill looking at the young girls that walk by in the market. I wonder what it would be like to look down on everyone, to be somewhat anonymous. What do people look like from up there? Can he not see the beauty of the woman beside his window? I would be jealous if he was looking at her though. Does he know that the people down below can see him? That they know that he is a pervert? I think that he should go inside and pay his wife some attention, I’m sure that she has caught on to what he does all day.
It’s market day today, I’m busy cleaning up the mess that is around me, hooks lying everywhere, bags strewn across the floor, and flies buzzing around. They follow some of the customers around, like a bad smell. They don’t have to do any work, I was considering talking to the boss about getting someone else in to work, but it would take too long, would cost too much to train them and considering it is the coming up to the busy season we may not have time to train them. Although I shall see what he says.
We are running low on dogs, better get the boss to go catch some more, I think to myself. Next door tells me that I am very fetching and that I should not be working in this district, I should be up in the other part, being a high roller, making millions of dollars. I tell him that I am satisfied with my job and that I would not want to be doing anything else. He just shakes his head at me, and continues taking the eyeballs from the chickens.
Looking down, I see a small piece of wood under my skin, a small splinter, in the middle of my hand. It makes me think of her, and the way that she is a piece of wood in my mind, stuck there, painless but injecting thoughts into the surrounding nerve endings. There is a slight twitch if I move my hand, I guess that’s the way that my body tells me that there’s something wrong with me. I’m in love. Sometimes I wish that I could run up the stairs, kick her door down, pick her up and kiss her passionately on the lips, only breaking away for a breath of air, which will stream through her open window.
A customer walks up, snapping her fingers in my face, breaking me out of my daydream. I jump at the sudden interruption. She starts talking, complaining about the food and the smell, I nod my head, agreeing occasionally. Looking up, I see Her. She is walking by the wall, in the background, the customer’s voice is drowned out, she wears a long flowing dress, that effortlessly lingers over her body. Her round, pert bottom, her flat stomach, her small but shapely breasts, all of which are outlined by the dress. That hair, oh it makes me shake. It cascades over her shoulders and down her back. The curls intertwining with each other, making ringlets. She wears something shiny around her neck, I can’t see what it is, but I notice the light reflecting off it. The world seems to stop, or at least go in slow motion. Her sandal-covered feet make a pat-pat-pat sound, the market place is noisy, filled with screaming people, but it is all obscured by her footsteps. The woman in front of me is still talking, unaware of what just happened, the beauty. The weather, the prices of the surrounding places, the hindering shop keepers, all seem like good topics for her to discuss. It’s not really a discussion, I’m not actually responding, my head is too far up in the clouds to hear her ramble. She nears the corner of the building, just before I lose sight of her I see something silver fall to the ground. I click out of my daydreaming when she points to something above me and pulls out money. Taking her cash, I hand her the eyeless chicken, she starts asking for change, but the glare on my face stops her from wanting the change.
She tries to grab the money back, but I’m too quick for her and I move just in time. Snatching the bag she walks off in a huff. Silly woman, I mutter to myself. I hope that she does not come not come back. I don’t think that I would be able to handle her trying to talk my ear off. A deafening rumbling sound comes from around the corner. She just disappeared over there. A pain surges through my heart. I hope that she’s alright. I’m in a panic. Scurrying around throughout the shop. Fixing things, cleaning the floor, untangling hangers and shuffling my bare feet in the dirt. Looking up, I remember the shiny thing, it grabs my eye, jumping over the counter, I pick it up. It’s a pocket watch. Quite polished, looking into it I see my hair falling into my eyes, that are brown like mahogany, the freckles sprinkled over my nose and slight scar under my lip. Standing up, and looking around to see if she has noticed that she does not have to the metal watch, no one looks at me, or tries to claim it. I slip it into my pocket and walk around to the back of the counter, pretending as if nothing has happened. The yelling and bartering of the locals again fills the market place, it had stopped for a few seconds in awe of the loud rumbling sound. After losing interest the noise picks up again.
Sometimes I wish that I could go away from this place, to somewhere tropical, to just be able to sit on a beach. My feet spreading the sand between my toes. The sun beating down on my shoulders and legs. The slight tingling and burning, which gives me a warm feeling inside. And the bonus. Her. Beside me, looking into my eyes. Her hand in mine and our legs interlocked. I’m in heaven, the sun, no work and having her by my side. No one to have to answer to, no one to talk to and no one to have to pull down dogs, cats, pheasants and rabbits for. And not to forget - taking their money.
Wiping down the bench with a dirty rag, I think that it is not really going to clean it much, as it is just going to spread the germs. Oh well, it’s not my fault if people get sick. I will just blame my boss, he has a tendency to not cook the food enough. I keep telling that people could die, but he doesn’t seem to care. I genuinely care about the people that buy things from here, well not all of them, but most of them. I don’t want people to die from what I am selling them. I guess that I feel somewhat responsible…
I hear a soft noise, just over to my right, I’m not sure if I am imagining it. Slyly looking up, I see her. She has changed clothing again and is holding a bag. The wind gently blows her hair slightly to the left. She has donned a red short dress, creeping up just midway up her thigh. It’s gathered at one side with a clip. She walks with determination, her sandals replaced with black wedges, which elongate her legs. Instead of turning she keeps going straight towards me, her eyes focused on something behind me. I spin around, wondering what could have caught her eye.
There is nothing that she could be looking at, just a black sheet that hides the barrier between this stall from the one behind it. She keeps walking. A clop, clop, clopping sound resonates on the pavement. My heart is racing. I cough, hard. Inhaling deeply, I realise that I have been holding my breath. My head is spinning and there is a feeling of queasiness in my stomach. She is only a few steps away from me now. I take a deep breath and look her in the eyes. She stops at my counter and stares at me. The world seems to stop. Forever. The people in the background move very slowly, as if they are turtles on a ten kilometre race, coming to the finish line. She still stares at me, not moving. Two females, locking eyesight, I hope it never ends. Her mouth opens a little, a sound comes out. H-e-llo. She says hello to me!
Simone Healy 2008
You can find me, hiding in the background of the local markets. The bright lights trying to highlight my face. I stand behind the hanging skinned cats, chickens, panda parts, rabbits and pheasants. I’m not like the other shopkeepers, I do not yell at the foreign tourists. I prefer to stand quietly, and people seem to be drawn to me. Am I? I do not know. I consider myself plain. They come up to me, not trying to barter my prices down, but just accept them, they hand me the money and don’t ask for the change. I take the hanging meat off the hook and place it in a bag, they usually smile at me, saying thanks. That’s the extent of my night. Selling things and hiding behind the meat.
I like to stare off into the distance, looking into the apartments that are across the pavement. I think that they are overpopulated. The building stands fifty storeys high, looming above, the night coats it in darkness, like a blanket. Occasionally lights flick on and off, but one in particular, no matter what the time of day, she keeps the light on. She lives on the 4th floor, so I can see her perfectly no matter what time of the day. I find her so intriguing. I spend most of my time looking at her when I’m not serving the customers. She tends not to move from her house. I stand here most of the day and the night, not leaving the stall unless to sleep. I have not once seen her leave the building in the six months that I have worked here.
I see her sitting at her computer, the computer screen lighting up her face, a pale colour of cream. She faces out the window. I have counted the different smiles that she makes. The smirk, that creeps across her face, it is almost a frown but it’s not quite. The bopping, when she bangs her head to the music, the broad smile that fills her face, lighting up her eyes. The half smile, where her smile goes up and down at the same time. This is the one that she has when her phone rings and she does not want to pick it up. She sometimes has people come visit her. She takes a break from her computer, I know what she is doing. I can see from the shadow that the lamp makes. Her outline is plastered over the wall, intertwined with his. She performs unthought of things. I wish that the attention that she was paying him, she was paying to me.
The customers occasionally distract me from my thoughts about her, they want cats and dogs, that are hanging up on my stall, all dead. After they are gone I look up at her, again and watch her. Sometimes I wish that I was there, holding her in my arms, hugging her and keeping her close. The other market keepers have a fair idea what I look at, but they still ask what I stare at. They think that I stare at the old man that lives in the room beside her. It is wrong, he sits on his window sill looking at the young girls that walk by in the market. I wonder what it would be like to look down on everyone, to be somewhat anonymous. What do people look like from up there? Can he not see the beauty of the woman beside his window? I would be jealous if he was looking at her though. Does he know that the people down below can see him? That they know that he is a pervert? I think that he should go inside and pay his wife some attention, I’m sure that she has caught on to what he does all day.
It’s market day today, I’m busy cleaning up the mess that is around me, hooks lying everywhere, bags strewn across the floor, and flies buzzing around. They follow some of the customers around, like a bad smell. They don’t have to do any work, I was considering talking to the boss about getting someone else in to work, but it would take too long, would cost too much to train them and considering it is the coming up to the busy season we may not have time to train them. Although I shall see what he says.
We are running low on dogs, better get the boss to go catch some more, I think to myself. Next door tells me that I am very fetching and that I should not be working in this district, I should be up in the other part, being a high roller, making millions of dollars. I tell him that I am satisfied with my job and that I would not want to be doing anything else. He just shakes his head at me, and continues taking the eyeballs from the chickens.
Looking down, I see a small piece of wood under my skin, a small splinter, in the middle of my hand. It makes me think of her, and the way that she is a piece of wood in my mind, stuck there, painless but injecting thoughts into the surrounding nerve endings. There is a slight twitch if I move my hand, I guess that’s the way that my body tells me that there’s something wrong with me. I’m in love. Sometimes I wish that I could run up the stairs, kick her door down, pick her up and kiss her passionately on the lips, only breaking away for a breath of air, which will stream through her open window.
A customer walks up, snapping her fingers in my face, breaking me out of my daydream. I jump at the sudden interruption. She starts talking, complaining about the food and the smell, I nod my head, agreeing occasionally. Looking up, I see Her. She is walking by the wall, in the background, the customer’s voice is drowned out, she wears a long flowing dress, that effortlessly lingers over her body. Her round, pert bottom, her flat stomach, her small but shapely breasts, all of which are outlined by the dress. That hair, oh it makes me shake. It cascades over her shoulders and down her back. The curls intertwining with each other, making ringlets. She wears something shiny around her neck, I can’t see what it is, but I notice the light reflecting off it. The world seems to stop, or at least go in slow motion. Her sandal-covered feet make a pat-pat-pat sound, the market place is noisy, filled with screaming people, but it is all obscured by her footsteps. The woman in front of me is still talking, unaware of what just happened, the beauty. The weather, the prices of the surrounding places, the hindering shop keepers, all seem like good topics for her to discuss. It’s not really a discussion, I’m not actually responding, my head is too far up in the clouds to hear her ramble. She nears the corner of the building, just before I lose sight of her I see something silver fall to the ground. I click out of my daydreaming when she points to something above me and pulls out money. Taking her cash, I hand her the eyeless chicken, she starts asking for change, but the glare on my face stops her from wanting the change.
She tries to grab the money back, but I’m too quick for her and I move just in time. Snatching the bag she walks off in a huff. Silly woman, I mutter to myself. I hope that she does not come not come back. I don’t think that I would be able to handle her trying to talk my ear off. A deafening rumbling sound comes from around the corner. She just disappeared over there. A pain surges through my heart. I hope that she’s alright. I’m in a panic. Scurrying around throughout the shop. Fixing things, cleaning the floor, untangling hangers and shuffling my bare feet in the dirt. Looking up, I remember the shiny thing, it grabs my eye, jumping over the counter, I pick it up. It’s a pocket watch. Quite polished, looking into it I see my hair falling into my eyes, that are brown like mahogany, the freckles sprinkled over my nose and slight scar under my lip. Standing up, and looking around to see if she has noticed that she does not have to the metal watch, no one looks at me, or tries to claim it. I slip it into my pocket and walk around to the back of the counter, pretending as if nothing has happened. The yelling and bartering of the locals again fills the market place, it had stopped for a few seconds in awe of the loud rumbling sound. After losing interest the noise picks up again.
Sometimes I wish that I could go away from this place, to somewhere tropical, to just be able to sit on a beach. My feet spreading the sand between my toes. The sun beating down on my shoulders and legs. The slight tingling and burning, which gives me a warm feeling inside. And the bonus. Her. Beside me, looking into my eyes. Her hand in mine and our legs interlocked. I’m in heaven, the sun, no work and having her by my side. No one to have to answer to, no one to talk to and no one to have to pull down dogs, cats, pheasants and rabbits for. And not to forget - taking their money.
Wiping down the bench with a dirty rag, I think that it is not really going to clean it much, as it is just going to spread the germs. Oh well, it’s not my fault if people get sick. I will just blame my boss, he has a tendency to not cook the food enough. I keep telling that people could die, but he doesn’t seem to care. I genuinely care about the people that buy things from here, well not all of them, but most of them. I don’t want people to die from what I am selling them. I guess that I feel somewhat responsible…
I hear a soft noise, just over to my right, I’m not sure if I am imagining it. Slyly looking up, I see her. She has changed clothing again and is holding a bag. The wind gently blows her hair slightly to the left. She has donned a red short dress, creeping up just midway up her thigh. It’s gathered at one side with a clip. She walks with determination, her sandals replaced with black wedges, which elongate her legs. Instead of turning she keeps going straight towards me, her eyes focused on something behind me. I spin around, wondering what could have caught her eye.
There is nothing that she could be looking at, just a black sheet that hides the barrier between this stall from the one behind it. She keeps walking. A clop, clop, clopping sound resonates on the pavement. My heart is racing. I cough, hard. Inhaling deeply, I realise that I have been holding my breath. My head is spinning and there is a feeling of queasiness in my stomach. She is only a few steps away from me now. I take a deep breath and look her in the eyes. She stops at my counter and stares at me. The world seems to stop. Forever. The people in the background move very slowly, as if they are turtles on a ten kilometre race, coming to the finish line. She still stares at me, not moving. Two females, locking eyesight, I hope it never ends. Her mouth opens a little, a sound comes out. H-e-llo. She says hello to me!
Simone Healy 2008
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)