Sam took this way home every day, every single day, every day of his life. He loved to pass by the old houses as he whizzed past on his bike. They were derelict now, but he liked to imagine the times when they were filled with life and laughter. Someone had loved these homes, but now they were empty. This thought always made Sam feel a little empty, too. And as he rode past on his green bicycle, it was on this day that he decided that he was going to die.
It was a beautiful evening as he turned left to speed down the hill. The tall Victorian houses sped like motion pictures as he passed them, and the road grew steeper. Ahead of him he could see the sky; such a perfect blue, with wisps of clouds growing from the corners of the pink horizon. He breathed a sigh of relief; his last breath, he fancied. He was going to lose his home and his wife; he was going to lose his job, he had been diagnosed with depression. A kind of ‘What’s the Point?’ sentiment had took over him recently. But all that kept him alive was this beautiful scene that he saw everyday. The houses and the skies, as though the colours had been made just for him, and just for him alone. He was coming to the end of the street. He held his breath. One turn and it would be all over: a car would run him over and he would die in the most perfect place of all. He could hardly wait. Sam turned the corner and… carried on riding. There had been no car today.
Perhaps tomorrow. Continue reading “A Bike Ride”
Standing in front of the television screen, my ill-fitting work shirt clinging loosely to my torso, I first saw it. The drone of the supermarket in the background gradually faded out to a distant din as it appeared on the screen: the JML Toastabag. The put-in-sandwich-take-out-delicious-toast-a-bag. Someone appeared at my elbow and asked if we had any pants in a size 26… but I didn’t care. I was elsewhere, dancing in fields of roses with a papery companion. I had met the love of my life and no elephant would be ruining this moment with tent requests today. I adored with trembling the sight that lay before me; little boxes of Toastabags below the television screen, waiting to be purchased and loved. It warmed my heart. I couldn’t wait to finish work… soon you would be mine! Continue reading “Armageddon Toastie”
The day was beautiful; the breeze was warm and the birds were singing in the trees. Pretty flowers adorned the thick green grass, and stuff was generally wonderful. Oh, wonderful stuff: the height of summer! It was minutes before the middle of the day and my walk to work was beautiful; the slight breeze caressed my neck and my open fingers swam through the warm summer air. Of course, when I got to work, the general horror of being trapped in a windowless metal container with hordes of sweaty customers for hours would soon snatch this summer romance from my hands and crush it into tiny pieces… but for now, I was alive, and it was summer. My head was a bit itchy, but I was putting that down to cheap hairspray. But other than that, I was strolling along, without a care in the world. Beautiful!
I had my earphones in and Amanda Palmer was recounting a short history of nearly nothing when a white van drove the road alongside me and slowed to a crawl a few paces ahead. A man shoved his head out of the window: he was bald and somewhat fat. Perspiration was not his friend. Though his face was obscured slightly by the rolls of fat that were trying to submerge his eyeballs, I realised that he was looking directly at me, his steely gaze unhindered by the bright sunlight. Though I was surrounded by the loving embrace of the summer warmth, a sharp pang of dread made its way into my heart. Not a this is actually quite creepy pang, more of a what the fuck does he want? sort of pang. The kind of pang that makes you want to set fire to his van and dance gleefully amongst the burning embers. You know the sort.
Continue reading “‘This Big’”