past & present01:36 Jul 12 2012
Times Read: 626
I have a thing about tenses, they don't like me. **Grins**
Past.. ? blech.. future .. you got to be kidding. Present .. aw c'mon !?!
My fingers danced over the keyboard, as I poured down my thoughts into memory.
The room was dark and the room’s only illumination was the monitor, as I’d been typing away on my daily journal on vampirerave.
I read back what I’d written, feeling a tad dissatisfied that I could write it.
It didn’t read well of me really.
I mean, it made it sound as though I dwelt in the past and had no consciousness of a future for myself and that was pretty dismal, to say the very least.
Yet, having written it, I re-read that sentence again and again, hoping that within the words was a way out for me.
Unfortunately though, no such get-out existed.
So I went to bed and with my mind in a whirl, I did not sleep easily.
Come morning I sat up and opened the curtains, looking out at a grey day. Yet, irrespective of the promising rain, I’d decided to get up and out. I’d wasted too much time, the last few days: So, no more.
With that thought in mind I’d lathered my face fully, looking at my reflected image draw the blade downwards through the soap.
I had to remember the tickets: and, that much was for sure.
I had a destination; there was the journey.
Smiling at myself, not too displeased with what I saw, then decided what to wear. Now, that was a good-one, as I wanted to look smart; yet not overly so.
But, a coffee was needed first, a fresh one: not like the one by my bedside. And a cigarette; A fresh one, not a dimp from the ashtray. So yes, I had my priorities finally in order; coffee, then a smoke. In that order.
And, as the kettle boiled, I turned the radio on, “…soldier dead in Basra.” Radio off.
Hmmm… ‘Back to bed?” No, that wasn’t an option. Not today.
So, I returned to my bedroom and began the long process of deciding what to wear.
It was difficult, it always is. It’s not like I follow a fashion, or a group or something.
I don’t. But, I do like black, boot’s pseudo leather jacket, trousers, all black, my sliver Ankh draped down, held by a leather boot-lace I wore around my neck, that looked pretty good with a few buttons undone on my white shirt with button-down collar.
Over the shirt, I wore a wait-coat, with a light pin-stripe, that had come from a suit.
Finally dressed, I looked at myself in the long mirror in the hall. I looked good.
I found my keys, checked the windows, found my travel pass; checked the windows one last time, then left the house.
Having run for my train, I slowed down as I neared the base of the stairs, as I watched the damn thing disappear down the track into the distance.
“Ah,” I exclaimed loudly, before resuming my usual stoic poise. It was only then that I became aware of the two young men crouching by one of the station signposts.
One looked up briefly from the roll-up he’d removed from his wallet. The others face was obscured by the peak to his cap, as he peered intently at his friends hands.
I continued to walk, a light grin on my face, which lasted until I’d reached the bit of the platform where I like to stand.
“Now I know the difference, between Moshers and Goths,” I muttered, as I looked back at the two young men I’d passed, their complexions a testament to a sugar-rich diet and a lack of soap.
Both of them had reeked of seat and their clothing looked as they smelt, ill-kempt.
“Yep,” I’m sure Goths at least wash,” I muttered, lighting the doobie I’d waited the walk for, ‘coz judging by the electronic display, I had enough time for the smoke and the opportunity to write so more.
Leaving the station behind me, I crossed the road, with the old by-pass above me, the roundabout to my left.
I walked on toward where I’d cross to my first point of call, before continuing onward to the bus-stops. All of a sudden I felt someone just behind me.
I turned my head quickly, from the neck, not the shoulders, so they’d not notice, till I had done so, only to see that it was a man; tall, little hair, and long legs in faded blue-jeans: and, as I watched, he crossed the road. So I turned back and had walked just a little further on, when I became aware of another presence behind me.
I turned and immediately felt very foolish; it’d been a girl, anywhere from fifteen to seventeen. She had long bleach-blonde hair, a little dark brown showing through.
She wore a zip-up light-tan leather jacket; hipster blue-jeans and beautifully embroidered, Chinese-style, light pumps.
The zip on the jacket was half-way down, showing off the light sea-green coloured tee-shirt, that she filled so well.
I slowed down a little to let her catch up, then pass me and was glad I did.
Between the hem of the hem of the green tee-shirt and jacket and her jeans was about 2-4 cm of bare flesh showing. Besides which, some women are just meant to wear blue-jeans: and, she was one of them.
She passed me, walked ahead and for a little while, my gaze that vision of her buttocks swaying. Yet, I had to cross the road now, so stopped by the kerbside, the yellow tubular and Perspex covered bus-stop to my right.
I watched her cross the road, but didn’t follow her across.
Instead, I waited until several cars passed and there was a break in the traffic.
I crossed the road, mildly amused by the fact the ‘blonde in blue-jeans’ was walking the same route I was going to follow. That’d made me grin somewhat.
I went to the small sweet shop, got my tobacco, then went on past the kebab shop and stepped across the looped chain between some bollards, then across the cinder path car park toward my first destination, ‘The Firemans Arms.’
I’ll say one thing for Jayne: she has good eye-sight. No sooner had I got to the bar than my house double was on the bar waiting for me.
The pick-up I needed, ‘specially with what I had in mind.
I downed my amber treat, then left with a smile and a nod of my head to the manager, Brian. Nice fellow.
I made my way to the bus stop and passed through the crowd, toward the 401 bustop and my bus to New Brighton.
The bus wasn’t too packed, but the smell of liquor permeated from two irritant youth in the seats at the back, so I chose to sit near them, for the sheer fun of it.
My annoyance factor was times ten by the time we had got to Seacombe, but I’d decided to be a goodboy today. So I left temptation alone, then smiled to myself when they got off at the next stop. From there, we continued down King Street, where the attractive blonde in tight dark blue jeans got off.
‘Good boy, remember?’ I told myself and I listened, for a change, so looked out the window to my right to watch the world go by, instead of thinking what I had been.
So it was I travelled, peacefully; until we reached New Brighton and the stop on the front. It wasn’t far from there, about five minutes or so. I recalled.
Finally I was there.
It was a large house, several stories, a Victorian build, or perhaps Edwardian.
Oh, I’d been there before, but not for years. Several in fact.
Full of apprehension, I went up the steps to the front door and pressed the bell.
Nothing. No sound.
So did I go?
‘Nah,’ I told myself, ‘I’ve come this far.’
So I went round the back, via the crazy paving path and there she was, Mandy.
I called her name and the slim brunette turned.
“So you got here at last!” Mandy scowled.
And I looked down at shoes, well black boots actually.
She has that effect on me.
“I brought the money I owe you. Is Sarah about?”
Her Irish-smile returned a moment.
“Your daughter? She’s upstairs, getting ready to go out with ‘Daddy.’ Where are you taking her Kevin?”
The tickets? The tickets? Oh-God, where had I put them?
Panicking, I checked my jackets inner pocket, only to find them quickly enough.
I’d put the cinema tickets in my wallet, like anyone else might.
Definitely a day of firsts.
Yet after all, I had got up and decided to make a change, I had.
Looking at Mandy, with as warm a smile as I can muster, for someone I’ve tried to dislike, since she left, thought of Sarah upstairs and my smile widened.
“We’re going see Dr Seuss’ Horton Hears A Who…” I told her, with a grin.
COMMENTS
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Morrigon
04:53 Jul 28 2012
Nope, I can't replicate the problem using IE8. Probably an IE problem. Reinstalling or using a different browser is your best bet.