|
| READING ROOM | ||||
|---|---|---|---|---|
|
| COMMUNITY | |||
|---|---|---|---|
|
| ABOUT GREAT WRITING | ||
|---|---|---|
|
| WORK AWAITING REVIEW |
|---|
|
| WHO'S ONLINE |
|---|
| We have 1210 guests online and 3 members online |
Shorts
| print friendly version | |
| Instant Snow | |
| By Solid12 | ||||||||
| 05 February 2010 | ||||||||
|
Instant Snow Tom101 signed in. KatyKitten signed in. Tom101:Hey KatyKitten:Hi, hows it going? Tom101:Okay, how are you? KatyKitten:Bored Tom101:Oh... That's a shame. KatyKitten: It's snowing! Tom101: I know, I haven't been out in it though. KatyKitten: Want to meet up? Tom101: I am clinically depressed KatyKitten: Lets meet up Tom101: I am clinically depressed KatyKitten: I know it. I just read that. Where do you want to meet up? Tom101: Outside that noodle shop? It's called 'Yum Yum' or 'Fun Fun' or something. KatyKitten: 10 minutes? Tom101: Okay see you then KatyKitten: Bye!! KatyKitten signed out. Tom101 signed out. The snow sat like lead upon the square cut surfaces of the town centre. The top layer of snow was dusty, it was being blown about in channels by the shop fronts. The snow by the shop doors was beginning to turn into slush. People stomped their feet guiltily as they entered the shops. Tom enjoyed walking up through the middle of the street. His boots ploughed through the snow. The punishment for this was his feet had become wet and freezingly cold. 'Still, it is better than walking through the slush,' he thought. The scene was close to being cinematic, if only he was walking through NY or London with his arm wrapped around a girl. However, he was not in either of these places and there was nothing 'cinematic' about how wet his feet were. 'She's late' he thought upon approaching the noodle shop. It was called 'Yum Yum'. He looked in at the shop. People sat opposite each other on straight-lined, dark wooden benches. 'Cinematic' he thought as he saw three women trying each others cocktails. He wondered how they would react if he went and sat next to them and mirrored their behaviour, drank their cocktails and slagged off their men whilst congratulating each other on their levels of 'whorishness'. He shunned the thought. “Imagine seeing you here.” Tom wheeled around to see Katy standing behind him. Her short grey hair in tight curls, peppered with snow. Her impish face held a wide smile which creased her crescent eyes. “Hello” Tom said dully. “Cheer up, lets go get noodles and pretend to be like these people.” Katy's lips puckered as she grabbed his arm, he felt her paper-like skin grace his. She had seen the three women that Tom was previously looking at. He frowned. “No money.” Tom replied. He felt like his legs were cast in concrete or 'snowcrete'. “I'll pay silly.” She steered him with surprising strength towards the lit noodle 'bar'. They were seated with minimal courtesy by the waitress on a long 'thrilless' table with two long benches opposing each other. Katy sat across from Tom. He didn't look at her but pretended to examine the counter where the orders are processed. He couldn't do this for long, though, as the counter was highly ordinary. They briefly made eye contact. Tom frowned. “Your order please.” The waitress had appeared and stood pen in hand ready to write. “Just a coffee.” Tom said curtly matching the waitresses tone. “Noooo...” Katy cut across him with mock-drama. “He'll have the large noodles and an orgasm.” She paused. “And what do you want to drink Tom?” He laughed at her absurdity. “An orgasm sounds fine.” He said smiling at the waitress. The waitress was not amused and pressed on with the order, digging her pen into the pad with a grievous passion. “What do you want?” She had turned to Katy who met her gaze with a scowl. Though when she replied it was with a clipped polite tone. “The bowl of mussels and a side of angel hair pasta. Also give me a pitcher of that green drink that they are drinking.” Katy gestured to the three women that Tom had seen from the outside who now laughed raucously at a joke the least good-looking one had made. The waitress whipped away. Tom thought 'time is money' as he watched her go. It was easy to forget the snow when you were inside and warm, even his feet were beginning to warm and dry. He looked under the table at them. 'Look how close they are to Katy's' he thought. He got the impression over the last few seconds that she did not want to talk first, it may have been some sort of test. He put it down to paranoia though and decided to prompt conversation. “What've you been up to?” He asked her. “Fuck all, I pad around the flat in my slippers. Looking out at the street at people throwing snowballs, cars driving slowly. That sort of thing.” She responded, picking at a snow soaked curl distractedly. “Sounds 'cinematic.'” Tom said. She laughed. Tom thought how he had heard once that laughing was a prelude to orgasm. “It would be a dull film. But it would be shot in twice the quality of HD and it would be 3d and it would have smell vision. People would go and see it just for the technology.” “I wouldn't go.” Tom said. “You'd direct it.” Katy retorted. Tom smiled at her. He felt 'cinematic' again. He thought about how he didn't live in NY or London. He thought how this moment would be good for a plot twist. “Noodles, mussels and cocktails.” The waitress dropped the array of treats with a satisfying 'clunk' upon their table. “Thanks.” Tom and Katy said in unison. Katy poured Tom a drink of the green fluid which seethed and frothed to the top of his 'tumbler'. He ate a noodle, it was long and flat. “It's like 'Lady and the tramp.'” Katy observed Tom eating the long noodle. “It's not spaghetti.” Tom said incredulously. “We're not dogs... What's your point?” Katy replied in a slow mocking tone. “I hate films.” He stated, ignoring her jibe. “You must like one film?” She replied, bemused. “I have never enjoyed a film.” “I have seen you enjoy films.” “Which film?” Tom asked. “'Lady and the tramp.'” She said. Tom laughed at Katy again. She held her hands in the air with mock joy at her linguistic victory. Top noticed how this movement affected the creases in her tee-shirt. He looked back to where the orders were processed, self-conscious of his thoughts. As they drank their lurid 'pitcher' and ate the noodles Katy fired off question after question. “Are these people happy? Are men better than shoes? Have you ever been in love?” She leaned forward as she spoke, Tom looked into her grey scale eyes and noticed a fleck of black in her left eye. He wondered if she knew about it. “Yes, yes and no.” His final answer stopped her asking, she looked over at the three women who had a litany of empty glasses swallowing their table. “You have never been in love?” Katy looked afraid, her hand's were flat on the table. She had rid her hair of the snow. “No” the ghost of a smile that played on Tom's lips fell slowly. They sat in silence. 'Cinematic' came into Tom's mind once more. He felt like they were frozen in time, the 'merry-makers' around them chatted gaudily, sipped their cocktails, at their noodles. Something was lost from Tom and Katy's 'merry making'. Tom remembered the bill that she would have to pay and became anxious. Katy payed the bill 'discreetly' and 'meekly' and they made off silently into the cold. Their parting was formal. “Bye Tom.” Katy pulled her hood over her curls so her face was hidden from his. “Goodbye Katy.” Tom 101 signed in. KatyKitten signed in. KatyKitten: Hey Tom Tom101: Hey Katy KatyKitten: U ok? Tom101: Yeh fine KatyKitten: I forgot to ask you re:clinical depression when we were out the other day. Tom101: Oh yeh KatyKitten: Sorry about that. Tom101: It's okay. KatyKitten: What's the dealio? Tom101: I went to a psychiatrists. We talked. I am officially/clinically/objectively depressed. KatyKitten: Damn. KatyKitten signed out. Tom peered at her 'off line status' for a minute. He considered emailing her. Tom101 signed out. Tom101 signed in. He looked once more at her 'off line status'. He made a coffee. He carried on, on his watch dutifully. An hour passed in this manner. KatyKitten signed in. KatyKitten: Hello Thomas Tom101: Katrina. KatyKitten: How goes it? Tom101: It goes well KatyKitten: You know, you never did tell me about your 'clinical depression.' Tom101: I went to the psychiatrists, she told me I was depressed. I bought one of her books KatyKitten: Damn. Tom101 signed out. KatyKitten signed out. That night Tom couldn't sleep. His white/grey cotton top clung to his torso as he wriggled around under his sweltering covers. He pulled at the tee-shirt desperately but it sprung back into position. His eye-lids felt like they were welded shut. With an effort he tore his eye-lashes apart. Beads of sweat rolled into his eyes and stung. He got out of bed and pulled off his top. He ran his finger over his shoulder, the sweat pulled off his skin. He put on a fresh tee-shirt and walked over to the window. The street was silent, the snow was pasted thick on the ground. Any noise was deadened against the snow. Tom's red alarm clock flickered to 3:00am. He didn't react to seeing the time. He wondered if; when people are alone if their facial expressions change when they re-act to things. He supposed he should look surprised at the time so experimented re-arranging his features to a look of surprise. He felt 'unfulfilled' in this action. Tom decided on going outside. Everything seemed to open up when he departed from the lobby. The street outside seemed to him like a pale reflection of the lobby; 'clean cut' and 'white'. His sweat turned cold as the chill from the snow radiated through him. This tee-shirt was beginning to cling now. His eyelids felt heavy. His eyes were sore, they ached, like he could feel them sitting in their sockets. Tom walked, consciously not taking a particular direction. He enjoyed the cold on his arms, he felt 'real'. He thought about how sleep deprivation was supposed to lessen your cognitive function. He didn't see this as a bad thing. He kept passing bus-stops. He had seen the same advert five times now it read; 'Do you have the blues? Come to Fat Mack's blues bar'. The snow sat neatly on the bus stops. He hadn't seen anyone but he had, had proximity to people. They all slept peacefully unaware of his passing. He thought about Katy, but pushed her out of his mind- she must have been sleeping. Tom shivered, he knew he could prevent himself from shivering. Would his organs freeze? His feet weren't wet, he had chosen boots. He arrived at a petrol station. At a forecourt lit luridly. His footsteps felt magnified as he teetered unwillingly towards the man holed up in his booth. You couldn't actually enter the shop, it was too late at night. You had to speak through a speaker and watch the cashier go and retrieve your 'goods'. The cashier watched Tom candidly as he came towards him. Tom bought cigarettes and water with minimal fuss. He wished all transactions could be carried out in this manner, the comfort of a plastic screen between you and humanity. As the money was exchanged Tom noticed the man had a book on his counter entitled 'A Beginner's guide to Schizophrenia'. Tom's brow furrowed and he looked at the cashier with a new interest. They held eye-contact for a moment before Tom turned away. Tom smoke the cigarettes on a bench with a ritualistic vigour. Deep long drags. He began to shake violently with the cold which relinquished the responsibility of lighting another cigarette. He could barely grip the lighter. He moved on. Tom's were the only footprints in the snow. He followed his own 'Hansel and Gretel' trail back to his flat. His thoughts had been numbed by the cold. He thought again of the sleep deprivation and wondered if it would be combined with the cold, the two could obliterate cognitive thoughts entirely. He then wondered that, that thought was cognitive so they couldn't have completely obliterated it. He made his way through the clean cut lobby and into his flat. To the bed, to not sleeping, to a change of tee-shirt, to more cigarettes, to pulling the covers off, to pulling the covers back on. The alarm clock read 4:00am. Tom wondered if his natural body clock triggered him to look at his clock every hour. Or was it coincidence he always looked on the hour? His mind refused to address this conundrum and instead returned to trying to rid itself of cognitive thought. Tom101 signed in. Tom101 signed out. Tom101 signed in. Tom101 signed out. Tom101 signed in. Tom101 signed out. Tom101 signed in. Tom101 signed out. Tom101 signed in. Tom101 signed out. Tom101 signed in. Tom101 signed out. Sleep finally reached out to him and held him immobile where he sat, the cigarette between his fingers slowly choked itself to its core. Tom101 signed in. KatyKitten signed in. Tom101: Hello. KatyKitten: Good afternoon Tom101: What are you up to? KatyKitten: 'Swilling' coffee around. Tom101: Sounds like fun KatyKitten: It's not. What are you doing? Tom101: Reading an article KatyKitten: about... Tom101: How most things are a prelude to sex. Like getting little girls to do ballet, how laughter is like a 'warm-up' orgasm and the societal importance placed on make-up. KatyKitten: Is this a 'prelude'? Tom101: Nah, I wasn't taking the article too seriously. KatyKitten: lol Tom101: Why lol? KatyKitten: Oh I dunno Tom101: Meet up? KatyKitten: Lets do it. Tom101: Normal place. KatyKitten: If you mean 'Yum Yum' we have met there once. Tom101: Yep, normal place. KatyKitten: Sure thing. KatyKitten signed out. Tom101 signed out. Tom arrived outside 'Yum Yum' early. The snow had thawed from the previous week. He had not 'taken arms' against the cold and the familiar warming shivers encompassed him. He scanned his surroundings for a sight of Katy. She was not in sight. He rubbed his arms trying to generate warmth. He stopped, thinking that he was spending more energy than warmth he was receiving in return. He saw her. He thought she looked 'angelic'. She wore a mottled green/grey hoody. It cast her face in shadow, only her cheekbones protruded from the dark. The hood meant her hair was dry. “Hey Tom, I'm afraid I can't hang out. I have an appointment.” Katy spoke with a business like tone. “Okay.” Tom said wondering if he should turn and leave or if he was required to do something else. “Speak to you in a bit.” She turned and walked back the way she came. Tom wanted to watch her go but thought better of it so turned and headed back to his flat. He thought of 'A Beginner's guide to Schizophrenia' again. It sounded to him like it was for people taking up schizophrenia as a hobby/ past time. He considered buying it as he walked home. Tom101 signed in. KatyKitten signed in. KatyKitten: Hey I'm drunk! Tom101: sound's good KatyKitten: Come over. Tom101: Okies see you in 30 mins. KatyKitten signed out. Tom101 signed out. Tom paused before he stood, mulling over the conversation. He felt a sudden potently desirous drive to stay sat down. He thought of the cliché; 'it's not the winning it's the taking part' and thought he should 'take part' in life. He let his head rest in his hands for a moment. Brief solitude/solemnity. He willed himself to leave. As Tom approached Katy's house he became pre-occupied with the word 'auto-asphyxiate'. Thinking 'auto' must mean doing something to yourself. He pondered whether 'auto-abasement' would work as well as 'self-abasement' in customary conversation. Katy's house stood before him like a cereal box laid on its side. The misshapen windows were snipped 'higgildy piggidly' across it. The door was barely discernible as it was yellow on yellow brick. Tom felt he was approaching a 'drive-thru' as he walked past the windows. He considered the idea of a cereal 'drive-thru' but became distracted by the sight of people laying languidly in the room's within. He stood and examined them a moment. “Tom!” Katy had opened the door before he had a chance to knock. She pulled him into a hug. He scooped her up like a 'JCB'. “Come in. I am having an approximation of a party.” Tom stepped into her house and slid his shoes off. He heard the foreboding thunder of chatter emanate from the living room. “Everyone this is Tom. Tom this is everyone.” Katy rose onto the balls of her feet as she spoke. Tom tried to look somewhere 'non-specific'. What use was that introduction to him? He couldn't talk to 'everyone'. Was he supposed to call an individual 'someone'? Is each 'someone' a part of the collected 'everyone'? Was he part of the 'everyone' now he was introduced? Whilst he was thinking this people had returned to their conversations. He glanced at Katy for some instruction. She steered him into the kitchen. “I'm drunk.” Katy said unnecessarily. Tom nodded and noticed how her cheeks rose as she smiled. Katy went to the fridge and pulled a bottle out of a 'crate'. She handed it to Tom. “Japanese Red Bull and Vodka” she supplied. Tom nodded. Katy pulled at the front of his top as he cracked open the bottle and swigged the 'froth'. She led him out of the kitchen and up the stairs. He felt the soft carpet through his socks. “I'm glad you came.” Katy tugged Tom's tee-shirt with two hands. “It is auto-abasement.” Tom said. “What?” “Self-abasement” he paused “sorry.” Katy raised an eyebrow at him. He saw how it tugged on the corner of her mouth. “I needed to get drunk to talk to you Tom.” “Were you drunk at 'Yum Yum'?” Tom laughed inwardly at saying 'Yum Yum' in this context. “Yum Yum” Katy said savouring the taste of the word, she released her grip on his tee-shirt. They entered Katy's bedroom and sat on her bed. It sunk as they sat, as if it were made of sand. Tom glanced around the room. The floor was bare and speckled with spots of white paint. One solitary shelf spanned a wall laden with crumpled books. He couldn't bare to look at Katy but he could feel her eyes on him. He had sunk further into the bed then she did, this tipped her towards him. He wanted to rest his head in his hands like he had before he left his flat, let time sort out the problem. He couldn't stand to see that fleck of black in her grey eyes. “I need to talk to you.” Katy repeated. “We are talking.” Tom occupied his eyes with the books on the shelf. They all slotted together like a literary version of 'Tetris'. This seemed at odds with how her thigh rested on his leg. “Basically” she began “that appointment I had the other day...” “What the?” Tom cut her off and stood up. His eyes had found her bed-side table. It held a pristine copy of a book entitled 'A Beginner's guide to Bi-polar Disorder.' He picked it up as if he was retrieving a hot coal from a fire with tongs. “As I was saying, I went to the psychiatrists. I bought her book.” Katy's eyes widened as she looked innocently up at Tom. He thought how 'small' and 'frail' she was. He abruptly realised it was a 'big deal' for her to share this with him and that he was expected to say something. However it was Katy that spoke. “The psychiatrist told me that I never say a commonplace thing.” Katy looked up at him questioningly. Tom panicked. He thought 'don't say something commonplace.' He struggled desperately for something 'comforting' but not 'commonplace'. Katy bowed her head at his silence. He had lost. 'Fuck' he thought. “Fuck.” He didn't mean to say it. “What?” Katy said. Tom thought of words that rhymed with 'fuck': 'Luck,' 'duck,' 'suck,' 'ruck.' None of them fitted. “Katy!” A dismembered voice called from downstairs. She looked at him for a moment. Her face unreadable. “Coming.” She shouted back and flitted from the room. Leaving Tom standing holding her copy of 'A Beginner's guide to Bi-Polar Disorder' in his left hand and the 'Japanese Red Bull and Vodka' in his right. He placed them both down on the bed-side table. Tom left the house, he couldn't face walking into the living room and seeing 'everyone's' condemning face. They would have seen that Katy was upset. He felt he had achieved sufficient levels of 'auto-abasement' to leave anyway. He slunk silently out of the yellow door, balled his hands in his pockets, gritted his teeth and returned to his flat, passing half a dozen 'Do you have the blues? Come to Fat Mack's blues bar' adverts. As he walked his mind chewed on her image; grey curls, crescent eyes, black fleck, lip twitch.
Only registered users can rate and write comments. Powered by AkoComment 2.0! |
||||||||
 Previous item
|
Next item
|
|---|