Five (464 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 0.28 on 10 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Not An Alter (View user info) at 2007-06-05 03:37:57 EDT
He opens his eyes in a crowd.
He is sitting on a bench in the shape of a pentagon. In the centre of the pentagon, silk foliage.
It smells like coffee.
Generic end of year music pipes through unseen speakers. Banal, but accepted. Advertised. Non-offensive. Throngs rush by, bees darting into every flower.
He doesn't carry a wallet.
Pollen accumulates in paper bags. He counts seven in the hand of blonde woman. A natural, or two hundred dollar stylist. Successful. Influential. Confident.
She walks in his direction. Gaze straight ahead, slightly above the crowd. She glances sideways, briefly, every second or third step. Assessing risks. Scoping. Aloof.
He meets her eyes for half an instant. She blinks. He looks away.
The theme of this story: Grief. The main character: Misanthrope. The major event of the story: Longing.
She grips the cup too tightly.
The plastic excuse for a lid pops askew. The oval cup spills lukewarm generic mocha on her tattooed wrist.
She glares across the table.
Her increasing heartbeat fills her ears as she looks at him. She's read about 'tunnel vision', but in this moment, understands it. She wants to see his face at the bottom of a well. The same dumb "Didn't mean anything" look. He fidgets with a napkin.
Say nothing. Calm. Breathe.
Standing, walking away. The mocha is shit and always has been at this franchise. #433 of 1500 and growing. Never hot enough.
He looks down at the table to consider another grovelling apology.
The theme of this story: Romance. The main character: Nihilist. The major event of the story: Death.
He smells her hair.
It reminds him of gardenias. The flowers laid weekly on a grave. He can't remember the last time he visited. He rolls to his back; nightly contemplation of the ceiling. The rain drums above them, eventually closing his eyes.
She senses when he comes to bed.
Even asleep, her mind knows dawn. Her dreams have stopped, but her body recognizes a new day's light. She opens her eyes to the curtains, to his hand tangled, but will not remember this.
The theme of this story: Power. The main character: Fool. The major event of the story: Compassion.
She has a song for this address.
She recognizes it. It loops in her subconscious, a sonograph snake.
Papercut winces from her thumb as she opens the envelope.
A photograph drops to generic beige carpet.
Transfixed by the words, she does not realize this. It seems a cruel prank.
She waves it in his face, not long enough for him to read it. Just enough to drop his jaw. His beer on beige carpet. Neither of them hear it clink. He stands, arms outstretched, but she has keys in hand.
He picks up the photograph and slumps against the wall.
The door slams three minutes before he realizes 9th inning ended with a strike out.
The theme of this story: Truth. The main character: Impostor. The major event of the story: Insight.
He opens his eyes in a crowd.
He is immobilized by the tube in his anterior cubital vein. Tube in his urethra. Tube from his nostril to his stomach. Wires are attached to all the parts of his body he can still identify. He looks up to the eyes of strangers.
Welcome back, they say. You've been gone for three years.
The room smells like coffee.
He raises what he thinks is his arm. He lifts two fingers in his left hand. He points to her.
A nursing student with blonde hair. This is her first shift.
He speaks, what he thinks would be meaningful, to have it garbled by the tube shoved down his mouth. Grhhagh Ghhhrrheh.
He licks his gums and tastes tooth decay. His own crusted saliva. His sin.
She watches from the porthole window, sipping lukewarm mocha.
She walks away.
User Reviews
Submitted by i_can_get_you_a_toe (user info) at 2007-06-05 18:19:25 EDT (#)
Ranking: -1
No Comment
Submitted by TheUniter (user info) at 2007-06-05 13:34:21 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Submitted by czwij (user info) at 2007-06-05 08:08:01 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
this is probably deep, but i'm much too shallow to follow it.
sorry.
Submitted by Void_Where_Prohibited (user info) at 2007-06-05 07:48:36 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Actually I liked this. But I wouldn't be able to explain why.
Submitted by NotVoltron (user info) at 2007-06-05 05:12:59 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
sight to taste
cigarette
Submitted by Berty (user info) at 2007-06-05 04:54:48 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
I'm sorry that was actually meant to be a throw away comment, I didn't mean to imply that you were not a person of wit. I am sure that you are the very avatar of wry, drole, humour made flesh and that when you stride into a room you flash your rapier like wit and the ladies underwear simply falls away in shreds as they fall to their knees, their eyes glazed over with wonderment.
Please accept my most humble of apologies before you impale me with cruelly barbed words, I am syre it is simply a matter of weighing up your total audience before you come barreling into Ubersite like a nuclear powered dervish of raw, untempered, hilarity. I, for one, am honoured that such as you would share these deep musings from the very center of your being.
On behalf of all of Ubersite I thank you for this post and your contribution to our humble corner of the internet.
Submitted by Berty (user info) at 2007-06-05 04:47:52 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Do you know what would be awesome? A witty post about gardening. Y'know, really detailed. I could learn about soil composition and pruning techniques with a smile on my face. I wouldn't even need to care about gardening to read it because it would be a well written post by someone with wit.
Submitted by NotVoltron (user info) at 2007-06-05 04:28:27 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
the alternate title (which in retrospect i should've used) was "the widower"
Submitted by Phallic_Cymbals (user info) at 2007-06-05 04:17:03 EDT (#)
Ranking: -1
I read the line "he smells her hair" and my faggot alarm went off.
Submitted by ChaosJester (user info) at 2007-06-05 04:15:05 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Um...
What?
This feels like there is something more to it. Unfortunately though, I must be too dense to see it.
+1 'cause it seems like a fair amount of thought went into it.