janejade
Joined: 21 Oct 2004
Posts: 78
Location: Northants UK
|
| Tell a Friend Posted: Wed Nov 24, 2004 11:55 pm Post subject: SH*T HAPPENS - Part of a short story |
|
|
Sh*t happens. Isn’t that how the saying goes? Perhaps that explains why I’m standing here watching everything that means something to me slipping away, or should that be walking away. Sh*t happens. Great choice of words. The sh*t really hit the fan this time. Another great choice of words. How the hell did I end up here, in this mess? The slamming of the car door brought me crashing back to reality. This wasn’t just sh*t happening. This was the end of everything, the sh*t was happening to me.
“Marie!!� Too late, the car drove away, the sole occupant not even sparing me a backward glance as she drove straight passed where I stood on the pavement, arms hanging uselessly by my side, useless to stop her leaving me anyway.
How the hell could I have been so wrong about this? I was sure we were always going to be together, you know, marriage, kids, the works – not yet maybe but eventually. In one brief conversation my visions had changed. Now all I could see were lonely nights, a cold bed – no Marie...
LATER
...Seven months. A huge twenty-eight weeks since Marie walked, or drove, out of my life. I’d tried calling but she wasn’t answering the phone. I been round to her flat, but if she was home she wasn’t answering the door. I’d written a song about her leaving which had gone to number one, but none of that helped.
Now here I was yet again, sitting in the dark, in my car outside her apartment block, looking up at the light shining through her bedroom window. No doubt someone was home this time then.
The lift was out of order yet again, meaning I had to walk up 15 flights of stairs before I stood outside her door. Just what I needed when I was already suffering from jetlag. We’d flown back from a promotional trip to the States the day before.
I raised my hand to knock, then stopped and listened instead, my ear against the door and jumped guiltily when the door to the adjoining apartment opened and I found myself under the scrutiny of Elsie, Marie’s elderly neighbour.
“Oh so you’ve finally decided to come to see her have you, about time too. I don’t know what it is with you youngsters, but in my day we didn’t just walk away when someone was in ill. You’d better not upset her again – you hear me.�
I stared, totally confused as Elsie slammed to door shut, still muttering about the youth of today. Why the hell did she think I’d upset Marie? Marie had dumped me, not the other way round. Come to think of it, not much she’d said made sense. No one was ill – were they? Or were they? A chill crept up my spine as I turned back towards Marie’s door, knocking a bit louder than I had intended. No reply but I could still hear the TV playing. Alarmed, I knocked again and was just wondering how I could explain away a broken door if I had to kick it in when the door opened and I found myself looking at the face of the woman I love - a pale, almost white face. I stared, her eyes were dull, huge dark circles underneath and her lips were almost the same colour as her face. What was going on?
Comments??
|
|
