Was going through some old back up discs, and found this old story I wrote for my old flatmate’s zine. So instead of the usual ill-informed rants and self-righteous proclamations, you get an actual narrative to read. With characters and everything.
She walked briskly down the footpath, trying to appear more confident than she actually was. Her eyes glanced around to see if anyone noticed her. In reality, it was more to see that people did not notice her. She preferred to remain inconspicuous; another faceless, shapeless entity. As she looked around someone caught her eye. Someone she recognized. Someone she thought she knew. Someone she had known. They had nothing worth being called a history, but it was enough to create an awkwardness. She wanted to say hello, wanted to acknowledge him, and have him acknowledge her. Who knew where it could lead? A simple hello had led them a long way before. She pondered the significance of those two short syllables as her footsteps advanced. As they drew nearer to each other, recognition seemed increasingly inescapable. Acknowledgement was all she wanted. To not recognize someone was excusable, forgivable. But to be recognized and ignored caused nothing but pain.
They played cat and mouse with their eyes. Snatching glances to see if the other was looking at them, without being caught. As the metres shrank between them there were now few choices left for them. He could smile, say hi- anything in greeting- or he could ignore her. She could do the same. She could also make eye contact and hold it, compelling him to take the plunge. Their childish game ended when their eyes locked. The panic clenched hard in her stomach, squeezing it like an old sponge. He knew she recognized him and she knew he recognized her. They were now seconds away from passing each other. Both now realized that their choices had been made. There was nothing else they could do. They gave each other timid, unsure, half-smiles. Half-smiles that sent a message that they didn’t really want to talk to each other, that they were just being polite. The message couldn’t be more wrong for her. She longed to talk to him, to at least build up something that lay somewhere between an acquaintance and a friendship. Anything to dispel the awkwardness that smothered them whenever they chanced to be close. But none of this got through the closed lipped, sad little smile she gave. As they passed each other his mouth half opened and one word escaped his lips. Barely even a word. More just a sound.
“Hey”.
“Hey.” She replied, just as half-heartedly.
They passed and continued on their way. Both full of regret, neither looked back.
1 Comment
October 14, 2009 at 1:14 pm
lovely.