Just a very short piece that just holds a magnifying glass over a few moments in time. I have to apologise as there are some naughty words, its just the way i speak, so they found there way onto the page. please don't anyone be offended!
“We’ll talk later Lisa..”
“I’m sick of talking to you.. no more Phil.. no more excuses..” and with that the phone was dead. He rocked and swayed as he stood on the station platform. Staring at his phone.
“Just fuck yourself..” he said by way of providing himself some comfort and having the last word. Moments later, the great steel and glass serpent slunk into the station and stopped. With a bleep and hiss the doors were open. He lurched forward and staggered in. His head was pounding. It was her fault he was stressed. She was always laying down the law, wanting him to come home and spend time with her and the baby. Seizing hold of a hand rail to keep himself upright, he closed his eyes and rubbed his face. His brain wouldn’t sit still. Friday night, just another drunk. People stared and muttered. He glared and contorted his face. People sheepishly turned away and changed the subject.
Women. Who needs ‘em. I don’t. fuck ‘em. It was nine o’clock. It wasn’t late. It was only the third night this week. He worked hard. He paid the bills. Why was she so unreasonable? He needed his space. A little drink helped him unwind and escape. The week before last he’d taken her to Ikea. She was so fucking selfish. All she ever did was moan. Maybe it was time to get a flat of his own. Start again. Fuck it, if she thinks I’m coming home because she says so she’s fucking mistaken. Where was the nearest pub to the tube station? There was an off license next to the chinky. Fuck it, a bottle of scotch – that would do it. That should finish him off. Just go home and crash out in the front room or back bedroom. Now that was a plan. It was tough, she’d have to get over it..
No one heard it.. he didn’t even feel it, as the gossamer thin blood vessel that traversed the inside of his skull just gave way... Blood poured from the gaping fissure and bled out into the cavity between the surface of his brain and the boney casing. Too much blood, too little space. The pressure built up. The delicate and intricate contours of the brain filled with alcohol laden blood, now under attack from the mounting pressure. A wooliness enveloped his head, like someone was spring cleaning his brain with cotton wool. His face flushed and jaw felt heavy. He tipped his face into his hands and waited for it to clear. The train stopped. He was getting hotter. Had to get some fresh air. Had to get out. The doors opened, he pulled them apart and unbuttoned his shirt. Needed to get some fresh air on his skin. Too hot.
Three steps and it was all over. He didn’t even feel the concrete as he hit the ground face first. His phone fell out of his back and scuttled across the platform. Then, not so much a final breath as a pitiful gurgle that trailed off. His bladder gave in and the remnants of his night out soaked the front of his trousers. People tutted, rolled their eyes and shook their heads in concert. This sort of thing shouldn’t happen in sublime suburbia. As the train pulled off a solitary figure three carriages down with his greasy forehead pressed against the glass lurched and looked up. “go on my son!! Yess!” and then he returned to his own thoughts. A blue tinge had already coloured his lips. His eyes were wide and unmoving staring out across the tarmac and dry chewing gum. The phone rang. What a stupid tone. LISA flashed intermittently on the LCD display. The voicemail picked up. No more excuses. Not now. Not ever.
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Hello Leo
Written by BrianRobertNeal (1195 comments posted) 15th May 2006 |
It certainly packed a punch. I enjoyed it very much, left one with so much to ponder over and all in so few words.
I've a feeling that until a mugger comes along to empty his pockets and nick the phone that everybody else will just step over or walk round him. Only then will it be found out that he is dead.
Welcome to GW,
Brian. |
Really liked that
Written by ndobiecka (20 comments posted) 15th May 2006 |
Really liked that, great graphic description of the blood vessel bursting.
And a very believable scene too.
I came across a young lad stretched out on the ground in front of the train station once, was getting off a late train in from London, about midnight, and everyone was either walking round him or stepping over him.
Just me and another guy stopped to check if he was just passed out drunk or actually ill (had had scratches and blood all over his face). There were even train station guards standing at the station doors who only came over when me and the guy stopped.
Thankfully the young lad got up and walked off (after a fashion, he fell over a few times).
But your snapshot scene could so easily happen.... |
Very Powerful
Written by scrump999 (8 comments posted) 15th May 2006 |
| This was really good, certainly grabbed my attention. It's scary but true that people would rather walk over someone in need than attempt to help. it's all to easy not to get involved. |
thanks for the positive feedback
Written by Leo (573 comments posted) 15th May 2006 |
a long time ago, i perhaps drank too much for the wrong reasons, got very angry at the wrong people and did end up collapsing and having a fit. The consultant thought it might have been a mild stoke... safe to say i was frightened by how quickly it can all be taken away from you.
This was really a dramatisation of what i was scared might happen next...
The good news is that the evil falling down juice no longer tempts me, and i am much more relaxed now... thanks again!! |
powerful stuff!
Written by Bagheera (680 comments posted) 15th May 2006 |
.......... and as already said, much of the power comes from the accurate observation!
During the time I lived in London I witnessed the "walk around the body" reaction from members of our oh-so-csring-fellow-humans (NOT!!!) on a number of occasions. Fortunately, I got "time off for good behaviour" and am now resident in a much more civilised part of the UK, with plans to leave the sinking ship as soon as I get a firm job offer from just about anywhere in Europe ..... 
The situation you describe is one of the main reasons for my decision to cut my losses and run. I love my native country - but I love my family more. |
An absorbing read
Written by Espiral (44 comments posted) 16th May 2006 |
A sign of a good story is when your eye flies through the lines and you forget to read critically, which is what happened to me here. Even after a second more careful read I couldn't fault the writing so well done.
Ps. I wouldn't worry too much about 'naughty words' here, check out some of the stuff in the Comedy section.
 |
Written by IPFaulkner (83 comments posted) 16th May 2006 |
That's really good that is.
Made me think a bit and reminded me of some personal stuff so how can be anything but good.
IP |
Cheers one and all
Written by Leo (573 comments posted) 18th May 2006 |
Still finding my feet within this creative liitle community. it's a top space. I look forward to more feedback over coming weeks.
cheers
leo |
Good!
Written by Tigermoons (5 comments posted) 28th May 2006 |
| I very much liked this piece. Like others have said, it's a very believable scene. Well done and keep up the good work |
Good!
Written by Tigermoons (5 comments posted) 28th May 2006 |
| I very much liked this piece. Like others have said, it's a very believable scene. Well done and keep up the good work |
No more excuses
Written by Josie (2718 comments posted) 22nd June 2006 |
| As a lady of my generation would say: I can't say I 2liked" what you wrote, but I do feel so very sorry for how this young man's life was being ruined by drink. When I was young we didn't have much money, and couldn't afford to get into debt, so we didn't spend money on alcohol much. We had wonderful times without it - especially dancing the nights away to live bands. We were not perfect, but I think marriage and children were respected by most people (but not all). Why has the world come to this? Perhaps as my "Happiness" poem says: Money doesn't make people happy. Perhaps when you've come through a world war you appreciate life more. I don't know. It would be interesting to know the answer. |
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