Welcome to the jungle
Ring... ring... ring... no answer.
“Come on, pickup…”
Ring… ring… click! “The number you’ve dialed can…”
“Fuck!”
He slams the receiver back onto the payphone as it swallows his last quarter. The wet pavement absorbs the drops of sweat falling from his brow as he walks out. Filled with frustration he quickly turns and kicks the glass door. The loud crack drowns in the sounds of his scream.
“Karma…” he hears someone say with a hoarse voice.
“Excuse me?” A couple of newspapers under the bench next to him start to move as an old hag with a fur coat and baseball cap emerges from below. She smells of wine and something far worse.
“Whatever it was you did, karma now found a way to pay you back.” She says as she sits up covered in yesterday’s gossip.
“Really, if that’s the case I don’t want to know what you’ve been up to.”
She lets out a cackle, he sees almost five teeth.
“A comedian, that’s good, everybody needs a good laugh in the end.”
“Aint’ that the truth.” He walks away; he has no time to waste on lowlifes.
As his feet kicks up water and drenches his socks in the streets filth he notices that the streetlights come alive as the sun calls it a day and disappears behind the tall buildings. The streets doesn’t pulsate with life as the usually do this time of year, people stay at home, scared of the cold and the dark. The funny thing about fright of the dark is that some people never feel it, while some never stop feeling it. All he knows is that he doesn’t want to be alone when the darkness comes…
His pacing gets more intense; heavier steps, increased speed. His breathing loses control as he stares up at the sky, looking for the last rays of light, wishing that the sun won’t go down just yet. But then they dissipate…
He dreams. Walking in corridors all alone and naked he looks for something as well as flees from something else. He knows not the definition of either one. As he tries door after door, people behind them look at him and roars in laughter.
After a while the rage gets to him and he gives in to it.
“Stop it!” As he opens the next door he lunges hands first towards the one standing behind it and starts squeezing the persons neck with all his might. No struggle, only vacant eyes and a baseball cap.
He wakes. Lying beneath him is an old hag wearing what used to be a fur coat, but now ripped asunder and drenched in blood. In her wrinkly hands she holds some kind of medicine. Puzzled he thinks to himself: “Who is she? What happened to her?”
Then he observes his hands.
“No… no no noooo!”
In his panic only one thought comes to him.
“I need to get help.”
He runs, the dry concrete eventually beating his thighs into a bloody pulp. He finds what he was looking for as he runs past a phone booth. It looks old and damaged, with cracks in the glass door, but it can help him get what he needs.
“She’ll know what to do.”
Grasping down his pocket looking for loose change to feed the contraption he finds nothing. Frenetically he searches his jacket, but no luck. Then he feels something in the back pocket of his jeans and pulls it out. A baseball cap saying: “I love New York.” And on the inside, signed in red: “Karma.”
Someone behind him whispers: “It’s funny, because it’s true.”
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Wednesday, September 09, 2009
Autumn waiting
The rain fell quite hard this night, as it does in autumn. Fay sat backwards on the couch leaning her face against the window, thinking to herself when dad was coming home. She missed him and wanted to show the graded paper now lying on the table beside her, waiting to be shown and being proud of.
Fay breathed on the glass and like a bucket of paint on a canvas it made a mark on the cold surface. She made her finger a brush and drew squiggles and a sad face. Patience wasn’t one of the “good sides she inherited from mom”. Bored after staring down both ends of the street alternatively, she made a loud sigh and turned to the television. Only news. For crying out loud.
Annoyed out of her senses Fay started to walk across the floor, back and forth. Tick tock said the clock on the wall, seemingly to mock her. “He’s not coming.” Then the god forsaken sounds of the clock drowned in a loud roaring from upstairs. Mom was starting up the vacuum. Again. She was always keeping things tidy, surely so dad wouldn’t get mad, he didn’t like a dirty house when he paid for a whole family on his salary. He had said so himself, but Fay didn’t like to think back to that time.
After walking round the living room Fay finally put her back to the wall and skidded down, banging the back of her head against the flowery wallpaper. The lilies and hyacinths didn’t make the room anywhere near as sunny as the decorator had told them last year, but at least they made mom happy, until she would buy new ones. Maybe roses next time, Fay likes roses.
Bang, bang, banging her head like a percussionist against the wall, Fay laid her head on its side and noticed the door to the basement. She wasn’t supposed to walk down there, the furnace wasn’t safe and dad had his study down there and he didn’t like to be disturbed. Although when he’s not there it wouldn’t hurt to play around for a while, right? Biting on her lip in excitement Fay stood up and walked to the door, once and a while casting a quick gaze towards the stairs. Mom wouldn’t be so happy with her if she went down there, but as long as the vacuum raged on there was no danger to be had.
Slowly Fay turned the doorknob, nervous, not thinking that the sound wouldn’t be able to travel upstairs. A smell of dust and oil came to her senses. It was dark. The old light switch hadn’t been changed when the rest of the house got renovated so unaccustomed Fay twisted the little plastic handle to the right. Flickers and then nothing. The light bulb must be out, she thought, but then it flickered again and came to life. The stairs looked dusty, and old in the way that makes you know that they will creak at the slightest touch of a toe. Fay didn’t hesitate anymore; she nimbly leapt down the stairs and brazed herself against the railing so she wouldn’t fall on the way. Landing on the ground she saw dust rising into the air. Dad had forgotten to tidy it up again, since the basement was his responsibility, not moms. Fay felt like sneezing, listened to the sounds from upstairs. Still safe. Then she let it rip and a tiny cloud of dust became the reaction, soon settling down in a new resting place.
The light wasn’t that bright down here; just a dim white glow fell from the ceiling and showed the particles flying through the air but the corners of the room were dark and shrouded in mystery. Fay started exploring curiously but stayed away from the dark parts. In there she saw scary things that her mind made up for her; an ominous man made out of an old jacket and monsters constructed by a rusty shovel and some rakes leaning against the wall.
The objects lying around in the basement could only satisfy her curiosity for so long however and she started to look for the door to the furnace room. The fact that it was cozy in there was all she remembered. Two doors stood in front of her as she turned to the right wall from the stairs. She walked towards the one furthest down the wall but stopped as she passed the first one and heard a noise. The door stood slightly ajar and inside a small beat was heard, constantly ticking like the arm of the old clock upstairs.
Fay pushed the door open slowly and peeked inside, it was not dark. A candle was lit and cast a red shadow over her dads study, making it seem like the walls were burning, ever so slightly. As she walked in Fay saw the candle standing on a pile of books upon the old wooden desk, almost burnt out. The smart little kid she was, Fay picked up the candlestick, so she could keep an eye on it, and other things.
Armed with the candle she could investigate the sound that came from one of the bookcases. It was a Newton's cradle, giving away a loud click every time a metallic ball returned from it's pendulum swing. Tick tock, time to move on.
On the way out the candle light shone on many a thing in the study, glass bottles, leather bound books in the book case, and a glass framed picture of her grandfather, standing over a fallen deer with a knife in one hand. She looked in more detail on the photo and thought she recognized the knife from somewhere. It had an ebony handle and had markings on the blade, or scratches rather. Unable to remember she walked outside, her gaze just barely missing the blade lying on the desk wired into a damp cloth.
The other door stood waiting for her. As she tried the handle the door wouldn’t move, it was locked, but even before Fay managed to put out her lower lip she saw a pair of keys lying at her feet. Joyfully grinning she picked them up and tried them on the lock. It worked like a charm. The door creaked even louder than the stairs as she opened it. A warm feeling touched her face as she went inside, as the furnace cast its intense brightness over her. She liked the sensation and went closer to sit down in front of the grate, where the heat emitted the most. As she landed on the soil floor she felt something hard poking against her thigh and gave off an unexpected shrill. She quickly moved away and brought the candle to the place, where she saw a white round-shaped thing sticking out of the ground. She stared at it with big eyes and touched it with her fingertips, it was very smooth and felt cold. Before she could think things through Fay was digging at the sides of the thing and unearthed something she had only seen once before, in school.
“The thigh bone’s connected to the… hip bone.”
Fear. With tears coming out of her eyes, Fay backed towards the door and ran away, dropping the candle as she went. The lights in the basement had gone out, everything was silent. Fay couldn’t see but ran where she knew the stairs were. Her feet found the first step and she fell over, screaming in pain and panic. She crawled up and the lights went back on.
“What are you doing dear?”
Her mother coming down from the living room, the vacuum had turned to silence long ago. She picked up her daughter. Fay couldn’t say a word, her sobs stopped her.
“There, there. You know you shouldn’t be down here.”
“I’m sorry” Fay wanted to say, but all that came out where squeaks and tears.
“Come now, dad’s home. He wants to see you”
Fay breathed on the glass and like a bucket of paint on a canvas it made a mark on the cold surface. She made her finger a brush and drew squiggles and a sad face. Patience wasn’t one of the “good sides she inherited from mom”. Bored after staring down both ends of the street alternatively, she made a loud sigh and turned to the television. Only news. For crying out loud.
Annoyed out of her senses Fay started to walk across the floor, back and forth. Tick tock said the clock on the wall, seemingly to mock her. “He’s not coming.” Then the god forsaken sounds of the clock drowned in a loud roaring from upstairs. Mom was starting up the vacuum. Again. She was always keeping things tidy, surely so dad wouldn’t get mad, he didn’t like a dirty house when he paid for a whole family on his salary. He had said so himself, but Fay didn’t like to think back to that time.
After walking round the living room Fay finally put her back to the wall and skidded down, banging the back of her head against the flowery wallpaper. The lilies and hyacinths didn’t make the room anywhere near as sunny as the decorator had told them last year, but at least they made mom happy, until she would buy new ones. Maybe roses next time, Fay likes roses.
Bang, bang, banging her head like a percussionist against the wall, Fay laid her head on its side and noticed the door to the basement. She wasn’t supposed to walk down there, the furnace wasn’t safe and dad had his study down there and he didn’t like to be disturbed. Although when he’s not there it wouldn’t hurt to play around for a while, right? Biting on her lip in excitement Fay stood up and walked to the door, once and a while casting a quick gaze towards the stairs. Mom wouldn’t be so happy with her if she went down there, but as long as the vacuum raged on there was no danger to be had.
Slowly Fay turned the doorknob, nervous, not thinking that the sound wouldn’t be able to travel upstairs. A smell of dust and oil came to her senses. It was dark. The old light switch hadn’t been changed when the rest of the house got renovated so unaccustomed Fay twisted the little plastic handle to the right. Flickers and then nothing. The light bulb must be out, she thought, but then it flickered again and came to life. The stairs looked dusty, and old in the way that makes you know that they will creak at the slightest touch of a toe. Fay didn’t hesitate anymore; she nimbly leapt down the stairs and brazed herself against the railing so she wouldn’t fall on the way. Landing on the ground she saw dust rising into the air. Dad had forgotten to tidy it up again, since the basement was his responsibility, not moms. Fay felt like sneezing, listened to the sounds from upstairs. Still safe. Then she let it rip and a tiny cloud of dust became the reaction, soon settling down in a new resting place.
The light wasn’t that bright down here; just a dim white glow fell from the ceiling and showed the particles flying through the air but the corners of the room were dark and shrouded in mystery. Fay started exploring curiously but stayed away from the dark parts. In there she saw scary things that her mind made up for her; an ominous man made out of an old jacket and monsters constructed by a rusty shovel and some rakes leaning against the wall.
The objects lying around in the basement could only satisfy her curiosity for so long however and she started to look for the door to the furnace room. The fact that it was cozy in there was all she remembered. Two doors stood in front of her as she turned to the right wall from the stairs. She walked towards the one furthest down the wall but stopped as she passed the first one and heard a noise. The door stood slightly ajar and inside a small beat was heard, constantly ticking like the arm of the old clock upstairs.
Fay pushed the door open slowly and peeked inside, it was not dark. A candle was lit and cast a red shadow over her dads study, making it seem like the walls were burning, ever so slightly. As she walked in Fay saw the candle standing on a pile of books upon the old wooden desk, almost burnt out. The smart little kid she was, Fay picked up the candlestick, so she could keep an eye on it, and other things.
Armed with the candle she could investigate the sound that came from one of the bookcases. It was a Newton's cradle, giving away a loud click every time a metallic ball returned from it's pendulum swing. Tick tock, time to move on.
On the way out the candle light shone on many a thing in the study, glass bottles, leather bound books in the book case, and a glass framed picture of her grandfather, standing over a fallen deer with a knife in one hand. She looked in more detail on the photo and thought she recognized the knife from somewhere. It had an ebony handle and had markings on the blade, or scratches rather. Unable to remember she walked outside, her gaze just barely missing the blade lying on the desk wired into a damp cloth.
The other door stood waiting for her. As she tried the handle the door wouldn’t move, it was locked, but even before Fay managed to put out her lower lip she saw a pair of keys lying at her feet. Joyfully grinning she picked them up and tried them on the lock. It worked like a charm. The door creaked even louder than the stairs as she opened it. A warm feeling touched her face as she went inside, as the furnace cast its intense brightness over her. She liked the sensation and went closer to sit down in front of the grate, where the heat emitted the most. As she landed on the soil floor she felt something hard poking against her thigh and gave off an unexpected shrill. She quickly moved away and brought the candle to the place, where she saw a white round-shaped thing sticking out of the ground. She stared at it with big eyes and touched it with her fingertips, it was very smooth and felt cold. Before she could think things through Fay was digging at the sides of the thing and unearthed something she had only seen once before, in school.
“The thigh bone’s connected to the… hip bone.”
Fear. With tears coming out of her eyes, Fay backed towards the door and ran away, dropping the candle as she went. The lights in the basement had gone out, everything was silent. Fay couldn’t see but ran where she knew the stairs were. Her feet found the first step and she fell over, screaming in pain and panic. She crawled up and the lights went back on.
“What are you doing dear?”
Her mother coming down from the living room, the vacuum had turned to silence long ago. She picked up her daughter. Fay couldn’t say a word, her sobs stopped her.
“There, there. You know you shouldn’t be down here.”
“I’m sorry” Fay wanted to say, but all that came out where squeaks and tears.
“Come now, dad’s home. He wants to see you”
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