Game

The lights from the Iceland store shone like a beacon in the night. Darren sat huddled on the park bench. Trying to keep warm in his nylon parka. A couple of kids were fooling around on the bench opposite. He watched them. He could hear cars on the road behind him. Voices and footsteps. People going places. Being something. The game was to become so obsolete no one thought you peculiar any more. The pattern on his jacket was camouflage. He mulled it over. Fisherman’s’ pie and peas or cottage pie and peas. It was weakness anyway. To feel hunger. Nothing that cost 99 pence could really fill you up. But the shop was warm. He liked to walk down the aisles and look at the signs. Chips. Meat. Pies. Ice cream. Gateaux. The meal would only make sense if you walked North to South from entrance to exit. Everything was so carefully planned. Darren’s life was so carefully planned. No one ever found Darren because he made plans. He was clever. Nothing remarkable like a man buying his dinner after work. The kids got up. Darren’s fingers caressed the blade in his pocket. They didn’t notice him behind them.

Beauty

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder so they say. He looked at her. She was small. But strangely clumsy in the space she took up. He was tanned and tall with confident, strong hands. Neat, clean nails. They first met in that corridor at work. Her colleagues had sent her to ask him for something. She was new and they dispatched her with a laugh and the message that she had to be more assertive. And so she went to him. Nervous. Asked for the item. Told him what they had said - 'they sent me because they think I need to be more forthright.' He had smiled and replied 'you don't need to change. You're fine the way you are.' This had unbalanced her. She had expected him to be one of them. The ones who thought she was nothing. She stayed in the job. For as long as he was there. She did anything to meet up with him. Tested out his resolve. Made sure he was real. She knew his routine from the timetable they kept printed on the wall. However much she tested, his smile and soft laugh never faltered. She oftened wondered if anyone second guessed her actions. His actions towards her. But they were too busy laughing and joking. And she was so quiet. So passive. Or so they thought. They did not remember sending her to him that first time. She was sure of that. It had been a long forgotten joke. Send the most unattractive woman to the alpha male. Watch her squirm. Laugh as she returned pink-faced. A throw-away moment for them. Except she never returned pink faced. She remembered every time that she met him after that first exchange. She remembered every soft word of encouragement and smile he threw at her. She would never throw that away. He had made her feel special. She kept that to herself like the item they never really needed. She kept that because he had given it to her. It carried his message. I find you beautiful.

Oracle

She stood on top of the hill. Her hair billowing in the wind like a mast behind her. She could see the tops of the trees blowing in the field below. The rain whipping up off the grass like electric sparks. Being so high it was almost as if she was looking down on the storm. No longer within it. Her clothes were wet from walking so far but she no longer felt cold. She thought she was crying out in pleasure but her words were lost in the gale. The force of the gusts knocked her knees backwards and she stumbled slightly but never lost her footing. The storm had been blowing overnight and showed no signs of slowing. For a brief moment she thought the energy inside of her was feeding it. She could not sleep therefore the wind could not sleep. But she dismissed this. She had been awake too when the dark sky was still and the stars barely flickered. Eventually rest comes. Eventually the storm fades. She returned her arms to her side and began to walk back. She would take this knowledge down the hill. Like an oracle.

Interview

The day of the interview. She tied her laces in the hallway. Stood up straight. Wiped the hair from her eyes and quickly checked her clothes in the mirror. It had been so long since she had gone further than the corner shop. Today she would have to catch the bus. Then the train. Then navigate from the station to the building using the little hand drawn map the secretary had mailed her. She was nervous. Sick. Milk bile rose in her throat. She regretted drinking the tea and wished she'd just had her customary breakfast cigarette. She looked at her watch. 9.10. She was on schedule. Of course. She began her series of checks. The oven. Off. Off. Off. A hundred times. The electric kettle. Off. Off. Off. A hundred times. The boiler. Off. Off. Off. A hundred times. Around and around the tiny flat she went in her peculiar little dance. She kept the curtains permanently closed so people walking past the windows wouldn't spy her bowing and praying towards her own personal demons. Up and down on her knees she went. Joints clicking. So tired of all of this. 9.30. She straightened herself and took a deep breath. Her hand hovered on the front door handle. She looked at the cat. Nodded good bye. The cat blinked at her. A diffident little nod of approval. She opened the door and walked out into the hazy sun. The door clicked behind her. Resolutely. Her feet felt uneasy on the pavement. They rocked a little. She was finding it hard to keep her balance because her heart thumped so harshly. She kept her head down. Counted out the steps. One two. One two. I will make it to the bus stop. I will get there today. The bus came and picked her up. Took her to the train station. She had rehearsed this in her head. She knew which platform she had to get to and so marched through the station doors to her waiting train without time to worry or doubt. She found a seat away from the little clusters of people drinking coffee and rustling papers. 10.20. She was on the train. Almost despite herself. For a small moment she allowed a smile to cross her lips. Being on this train. Being here in this moment was so far removed from the flat. So much better. So much bigger. She allowed her body to flow with the forward movement of the carriage and was almost disappointed when it stopped and she had to get off. She gave the map a quick glance. But she knew where she was going. Her feet bounced along the imaginary lines that had been drawn for her and she arrived at the building with ten minutes to spare. 11.20. How many years had it been since she had been out for so long? She introduced herself at the front entrance and sat in the reception waiting for her interviewer to arrive. Her hands relaxed around the papers she had prepared. A tall man. Middle aged, full of energy, strode out and extended a hand to her. 'I am so glad you made it Ms Rose. And after all this time. Don't worry, I think you'll find it was quite worth the journey.'