Thursday, July 19, 2007

Chapter 30 : This is what you get when you mess with us...

There were a couple of things that he needed to sort out. First, he went straight to the bathroom and stared long and hard at the mirror. “Ok”, he thought, “I need a shave”. He couldn’t quite remember when he had shaved last, but like as not it had been two, maybe three weeks ago.
So he drew a bit of hot water, and wet his face. He put some shaving cream, and started to hack away at his shaggy beard.
Ouch, ouch, ouch. That bloody hurt. The bottom half was done, the easy bit. Now came the complicated part. Woo-hoo, no more sideburns. No stupid goatee for him, neither.
Ah, decisions, decisions… should he shave his admittedly not-very-manly-maybe-even-a-bit-gay moustache, or should he leave it?
Shaven it is.
Bugger, this hurts like all get out. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ok, just this bit in the middle and then I’m done.
Oh fuck shit shit shit! No wonder Hitler never shaved that bit off, it was sheer medieval torture.

Ok, that’s done, let’s take a shower. That went on, thankfully, quite uneventfully. But he wondered why the hell he always scrubbed his left arm last…
Now, there was something else he wanted to do… but what was it? Ah, yes. He needed a dictionary.
C’mon, somewhere in the midst of all these books, he had to have a dictionary.
In fact, he did not.
He went out, got on the tube, and headed downtown. Loads of bookstores there, plus it’s kind of in the way to where he needed to go, too.
In one of the major bookstores he finally found a dictionary. Let’s see, ‘A’. He searched for the word he was after, and after a few seconds, found it.

avatar \AV-uh-tar\, noun:
1. The incarnation of a deity -- chiefly associated in Hinduism with the incarnations of Vishnu.
2. An embodiment, as of a quality, concept, philosophy, or tradition; an archetype.
3. A temporary manifestation or aspect of a continuing entity.

Good. So it was as he remembered it. And what that meant was that a story had to be told, it needed to unfold. Another song had to be sung, though he felt that between them all songs had yet to be sung, he yearned to sing a song to say goodbye.
His heart was set. This is what he was going to do. If no one wanted a happy ending for him, he would fashion one for himself.

She worked long, dull hours in one of those places that people go to when they want to make copies. In fact, her job was so dull it was mind numbing. But she quite liked it this way. Oh, she knew she could get a better job whenever she wanted to, after all that is the true purpose of getting an education, and all that. But there was something to this job that had its singular, unique charm. Where else would she see so many weirdos and barmy people? No, dull as it may be, she felt she wouldn’t trade this for any other job in the world.
Maybe later when she was older, someone else could be her when she’s gone.

Now, she only wanted something that was as easy going as she was. Besides, the routine, boring though it may be, kept her somewhat busy most of the time, and that kept her from thinking about everything else in her life.
Outside working hours… now, that was different. She usually just went home, fixed a TV dinner, watched a movie or read a book, then went to sleep… all the while trying her hardest not to think about him… about what she gave up on.
Weekends, she goes out, there’s a club where she likes to go. She goes on her own most of the times, then she goes home, and she cries, and she wants to die.
Today, though, it has been a good day so far. It’s raining outside, and she’s smiling. Sometimes it seems she’s only happy when it rains.
Another guy works with her, a fat and lazy moron called Gonçalo. She doesn’t like him very much, he’s got no real sense of other people’s personal space, and he has a very unique method of approaching his personal hygiene, i.e., none.
She had her back turned to the counter, and there was no music on. She said, “G., will you put something on?”.
A few seconds later, as the first familiar, melancholic chords of Radiohead’s ‘Let down’ evoked good memories deep inside her, she said, absent-mindedly flipping her hair, “Oh my god, it’s my favourite song!”.

Will said, “I know, Marcia.”

"The neon lights in the night tonight will say "everything will flow"
The stars that shine in the open sky will say "everything will flow"
The lovers kissed with an openness will say "everything will flow"
The cars parked in the hypermarket know "everything will flow" "

Suede, Everything will flow

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