Tuesday 17 April 2012

Disintegration Loops

At that moment he didn´t particularly like her anymore. Or anyone else for that matter. Including himself. A combination of regrettable factors had led to this dismal state of affairs. The oppressive heat, his brother´s boisterous companions, the noise of drums, an anxiety-inducing hangover and the sun beating down on him moronically all conspired to perturb him greatly.

Not too long after that they found themselves, just he and she, in a nearby pub. An unbearably strained atmoshphere gradually established itself as they sat over two bottles of strong Belgian beer. It was impossible to even look at her. It felt like the saddest possible thing in the world. Then they were walking back to her flat. He held her hand for a while until she shook it off. She suggested he go home, he became upset. Terrible, it was fucking terrible.

Back at her flat they smoked some marijuana and it put him in a bad way. He felt deeply, deeply perturbed. She recited poems and seemed amused. He didn´t know who she wa, didn´t know who he himself was.

Somehow he eventually managed to get a few hours of sleep. He awoke at dawn and sullenly left. His whole body felt as if wrought by agony. He headed homwards, purchasing a packet of cigarettes en route, an uncharacteristic act. It seemed as if things were over between them but, in fact, only one week later they would travel to the coast, fall in love and eventually move in together.

THE END

Friday 6 April 2012

He Could Not Recall the Correct Move Order

Then he saw a girl. He recognised her.

It seemed a small audience had gathered. People watching with interest. What were they watching? What were they thinking? He wanted to get up. He wanted to get up and dance, dance with them. Real close. The dancing. Dance real close. With movements approximating the wind. Weird snaking movements. It made perfect sense to him. He could hallucinate suitable music at will. An admirable feat, probably. He no longer cared. He had grown quite weary all of a sudden. And yet he felt he must continue to affect this strained grin, as painful and humiliating as it was. Complete exhaustion and ennui. An overwhelming greyness. He stood up. He donned his coat. Snap out of it, he suggested to himself. A dawning warmth. A blooming sensation. The old familiar tingling and numbness preceeded a surge of something or other.
 
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