Sunday, 25 August 2013

One of the Best

Summer mornings are always the worst. I stagger out of bed, blinded by the sun that pours through the blinds of every room in the house. The first thing I get to see when I manage to peel my eyes open is the first piss of the day resting in the toilet bowl. It's a bright, copper orange and serves as a dead giveaway that I am hung-over. I don't care too much though. I feel pretty good. I feel pretty invincible. I finish up in the bathroom, doing my usual daily chores of vanity and hygiene and check myself in the mirror. I look good. I've shaved five years off my face but I am looking good. There's not a single cut, scratch or nick. I've kept a steady hand when I so frequently get the shakes. I am invincible. It's going to be a good day - one of the best.

I float downstairs and slot myself behind the wheel of my car. It all feels right - mirrors, seatbelt, ignition and clutch. It all feels right. It's going to be a smooth ride, I can just taste it. I point the thing towards work and get rolling. The hours will slip by today. It's one of the better ones. I'll even hit the bars on the way home as a reward.

After dishing out the usual spiel, it only took a round of shots and a couple of cocktails to get her back to mine. Soon we were fumbling with each other's clothes until we were left with nothing on but the skin we were born in. I had to spit on it to get it inside her, but once it was in it was good. We were drunk. She gripped me tightly and moaned like she was set to die. She had claimed she had never done this before, but that was clearly a lie. She sunk her nails into the small of my back, so I bit down on her shoulder and thrust myself in deeper. She liked that. Outside the window a train rolled by. The tracks were so close to the building that when the trains did rattle past, the bulb that hung above my bed would swing back and forth, causing the light to play about the room. It was an irritating distraction. I pulled out, bent her over and buried her face into the pillow, working my way back into her. The light continued to rock back and forth and I felt a migraine coming along. I needed to finish soon before it ruined everything. I pounded away as quickly as I could; bouncing off of her round, white rear. She let out a loud squeal as I filled her with long spurts of warm come. Whether or not she came too, I didn't care. I rolled over and stared at the ceiling as the light gradually came to a halt. I thought about rolling a cigarette. I thought about all the other girls and all the other days. I had definitely had better ones before.

Thursday, 1 August 2013

Carnival of Judgement

The chairs were hard, metallic blue and uncared for. They were the kind that folded in on themselves when nobody was sat on them, and currently nobody was seated. We were alone in this vast, stagnant room, in a sea of dirty, paint-chipped chairs. Rows and rows of the uncomfortable planks, just waiting to be filled with the well padded rears of the desperate and lonely. The kind of people who were just one rung above the bottom of society and would be arriving soon for today's freak-show to feel better about their own petty little lives. God knows why we were here so early. She was clearly eager. God knows why I was here at all. I guess I just wanted to get laid afterwards. She sat beside me clutching my arm and resting her head on my shoulder. At least she seemed comfortable, but I couldn't see how it was possible on these seats. She was content, and I guess that meant that I should be too. I had succumbed to her pleas. I had allowed her to drag me here, on the promise that it would be a laugh; that it would be outrageous. She assured me I'd get a kick out of it. I wasn't so sure.

Up at the front was the little wooden platform that would serve as a stage and on top of that were three chairs. Three glorious looking armchairs equipped with thickly padded cushions. Oh how far I have fallen when in this festival of monkeys and degenerates I don't get a little padding to rest on when these inbreds do.

They soon started to file in. The hordes and the masses. They're ready to spill blood today should they not be adequately entertained. They expected the best from their messiah and they refused to be let down. They eagerly awaited his arrival. The clank of metal and springs filled the room as they took their seats.

"Baby, I hope this isn't a sad one."
I just shrugged my shoulders in response. I didn't even know that they made sad ones. I thought it was all just bottle fed reassurance that no matter how shitty your life is that things are always a little worse elsewhere. There is always room to fuck up on a grander scale. One month of unemployment and a handful or rejection letters isn't so bad, when you could have a mild addiction to cough medicine and a healthy dose of crabs thrown in too. How the better-off can laugh at the peasants. I knew it was all bullshit, but the tickets were free and I had a shot at sex, so I couldn't care less about contributing to this abhorrent carnival of judgement. It would just be an hour or so out of my life. Time I would have only spent scratching my balls in bed.

Then the lights came up and a ripple of applause echoed through the crowd until it grew in strength and was soon accompanied by whoops and cheers. The man they had all been waiting for was finally ready to take to the stage. He was amongst his people, his brethren. He stood at the top of the steps that ran through the middle of the studio, dressed in a fine grey suit, with no tie, and lapped up every inch of their worship. His face was smug and his hair neatly trimmed as he made his way triumphantly through the midst of his flock and onto the stage where he belonged. This was truly his domain and it made me sick. I couldn't bear to watch. The big screen behind the stage flashed on with his name lit up in large letters before changing to the nature of today's show.


Holy shit. This sounded wild. I leant forward in my chair and took my baby by the hand and held it tightly. I needed to find out how this fiasco panned out.