I guess I fit the mold of contemporary alienation. Mid 20’s fascination with ‘how the fu_k did I get here?’. Besides this most consuming of passions I’m really just your everyday office-opposing, gossip-disclosing, end of week, dancing freak.
I’m a social voyeur and when I’m not looking I’m generally dancing. I don’t like to be looked upon myself.
I come to work just so I can look forward to leaving. My weekdays are generally monotonous but sometimes punctuated by extremities: ups and downs, backs and forths, ins and outs, lefts and rights. I always eat my lunch before 11.30am but have a window view to feed me for the rest.
Weekends are the same but different. I go out looking for a drunken stupor and usually find it after a self administered concoction of liquid looseness.
One time another girl punched me.
Many times I’ve walked home bare foot.
Once I even cried.
I love Sundays. They’re gentle but firm. They wrap me up in the tethered threads of a worn out week. They float me down stream through the reeds
and the needs
and the tedious seeds
of another week yet to bloom.
Louise O'Brien is a member of Compassion, Courage & Friendship and Short stories - Spherical Scriptings.
Posted over 2 years ago.
Posted over 2 years ago, 4 comments so far.
Posted over 2 years ago, 15 comments so far.
I only ask one thing of my lover / To never let me hear of the other half / Breasts, calves, or domestic pleasures
There she was; dead and all / When you shot that tiger, and then stood beside her
In the bath I nearly slipped too far / The water fell cold after one hour / I stayed for two