the act
It was a quarter to six.
I sat in bed and listened in dread to the stream of people moving through the house. If only I could somehow switch off my consciousness for the next couple of minutes so I would function as normal but not have to be aware of it! I would escape the dreariness, the mundane hypocrisy of greeting, talking, asking, not answering – all the things we do when visitors come, though neither of us have the wish nor want to.
I looked at the clock. Come on girl, I silently exhort myself, in half an hour’s time, you can be lying in this exact same spot, this exact same pose, and be looking at the exact same clock and the time would be a quarter to seven and you’ll be thinking, am I glad that’s over. No, I stubbornly answered, I want that time to be now, and I don’t want to waste my breath and effort going through empty motions that mean less to me than a rock to a sparrow. What if I just tried to disappear? Maybe, if I just lay here and close my eyes, and concentrate, I could make the end come now.
I did it. I tried. I close my eyes, measured each breath, in, pause, out, slowly now, again and in, pause, out. I listened to the sound of my own heart beating pump pump pump, to the clock now pump, pause, pump, pause, pump pump pump. After a moment I stopped feeling my body. I couldn’t feel my feet, then my legs, then torso disappeared, hands, arms, neck, face - Finally I was nothing. I was of as little substance as the air. My body went on like a machine on auto pilot, while my mind broke free of its confining vessel and soared to infinitesimal heights. I was free! I could do anything I wanted! I would listen to me and only me and nobody else had a right to ask anything of me! I –
Knock knock. Damn it, I thought, can’t you all just leave me alone? It’s been, what, five minutes and already you have to break in on me? But the spell was broken. With an ache like a lost love, I unwillingly came to. Blood rushed tingling into my limbs and swooshed into my brain, pricking the cold skin of my face and ears. With a jolt, I sat up, curiously lightheaded. “Oi! What are you doing in there? Can’t you come out already?!” Stuff it, asshole, I muttered. I swung my legs over the bed, toes curling against the cold marble, stood up and stretched. Vindictively I took my time, turning around to peer out of the casement window, squinting against the glow of the setting sun. I yawned hugely, and turned to walk out. This is it; thirty minutes of entertaining that I would enjoy as much as prying a bloodsucking leech from my thigh.
As I walked through the door, I was struck by the absence of something. At first I couldn’t put my finger to it. Then it dawned upon me that everything was strangely silent. Where was the meaningless babble of empty chatting, the shrieks of ill-behaved children, the loud obligatory guffaws at stupid sexist jokes? They’re all waiting for u, jerk, hissed my conscience. I grimaced and mustered as innocent a smile as I could. Pasting it on my stiff face, I ran my hand through the tangle of my hair and stepped out. Hi everyone! Sorry, I was taking a nap. When did you arrive? Where were you from? How’s the kids? What…
Slowly, as I took in the scene, the stream of my forced bright chatter petered out. Chairs lay askew, the tablecloth hung half over the coffee table onto the floor, spilling mounds of peanut shells on the carpet; teacups piled around, some stained with lipstick around the rim, others with inches of tea like dirty laundry water pooling in their depths. The room rung with the silence of people come and gone, walls coldly reflecting the barrage of noisy lives that had paraded before it moments before. Everybody’s gone, I thought incredulously. As the blood drained from my face, I blinked against the pink rays of sun streaking through the window. Dusk already, I thought absently – then did a double take. With a growing sense of exhilarating wonder, I turned on my heels and stepped back into my room. Slowly, I stood below the rusty clock high on my bedroom wall; slowly, heart pounding, I brought my eyes up to the hands of the clock, moving slowly but inexorably, tick tick tick.
It was a quarter to seven.
I sat in bed and listened in dread to the stream of people moving through the house. If only I could somehow switch off my consciousness for the next couple of minutes so I would function as normal but not have to be aware of it! I would escape the dreariness, the mundane hypocrisy of greeting, talking, asking, not answering – all the things we do when visitors come, though neither of us have the wish nor want to.
I looked at the clock. Come on girl, I silently exhort myself, in half an hour’s time, you can be lying in this exact same spot, this exact same pose, and be looking at the exact same clock and the time would be a quarter to seven and you’ll be thinking, am I glad that’s over. No, I stubbornly answered, I want that time to be now, and I don’t want to waste my breath and effort going through empty motions that mean less to me than a rock to a sparrow. What if I just tried to disappear? Maybe, if I just lay here and close my eyes, and concentrate, I could make the end come now.
I did it. I tried. I close my eyes, measured each breath, in, pause, out, slowly now, again and in, pause, out. I listened to the sound of my own heart beating pump pump pump, to the clock now pump, pause, pump, pause, pump pump pump. After a moment I stopped feeling my body. I couldn’t feel my feet, then my legs, then torso disappeared, hands, arms, neck, face - Finally I was nothing. I was of as little substance as the air. My body went on like a machine on auto pilot, while my mind broke free of its confining vessel and soared to infinitesimal heights. I was free! I could do anything I wanted! I would listen to me and only me and nobody else had a right to ask anything of me! I –
Knock knock. Damn it, I thought, can’t you all just leave me alone? It’s been, what, five minutes and already you have to break in on me? But the spell was broken. With an ache like a lost love, I unwillingly came to. Blood rushed tingling into my limbs and swooshed into my brain, pricking the cold skin of my face and ears. With a jolt, I sat up, curiously lightheaded. “Oi! What are you doing in there? Can’t you come out already?!” Stuff it, asshole, I muttered. I swung my legs over the bed, toes curling against the cold marble, stood up and stretched. Vindictively I took my time, turning around to peer out of the casement window, squinting against the glow of the setting sun. I yawned hugely, and turned to walk out. This is it; thirty minutes of entertaining that I would enjoy as much as prying a bloodsucking leech from my thigh.
As I walked through the door, I was struck by the absence of something. At first I couldn’t put my finger to it. Then it dawned upon me that everything was strangely silent. Where was the meaningless babble of empty chatting, the shrieks of ill-behaved children, the loud obligatory guffaws at stupid sexist jokes? They’re all waiting for u, jerk, hissed my conscience. I grimaced and mustered as innocent a smile as I could. Pasting it on my stiff face, I ran my hand through the tangle of my hair and stepped out. Hi everyone! Sorry, I was taking a nap. When did you arrive? Where were you from? How’s the kids? What…
Slowly, as I took in the scene, the stream of my forced bright chatter petered out. Chairs lay askew, the tablecloth hung half over the coffee table onto the floor, spilling mounds of peanut shells on the carpet; teacups piled around, some stained with lipstick around the rim, others with inches of tea like dirty laundry water pooling in their depths. The room rung with the silence of people come and gone, walls coldly reflecting the barrage of noisy lives that had paraded before it moments before. Everybody’s gone, I thought incredulously. As the blood drained from my face, I blinked against the pink rays of sun streaking through the window. Dusk already, I thought absently – then did a double take. With a growing sense of exhilarating wonder, I turned on my heels and stepped back into my room. Slowly, I stood below the rusty clock high on my bedroom wall; slowly, heart pounding, I brought my eyes up to the hands of the clock, moving slowly but inexorably, tick tick tick.
It was a quarter to seven.
posted by daa | 1:05 pm
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home