I have never said a word about any of the secrets people have shared with me over the years. Not one, even when the secrets were out, I never told anyone that I was aware of anything. I’m like a tomb that way. And many other ways too. But to me it is highly ironic; most people seem to relish the fact that they can center their conversations and thoughts, or lack thereof, around my doings. Not that it should bother me as much as that, but the whole thing began to worry me a few weeks ago. Continue reading
Dinger downed his drink and burped loudly. No one ever dared say anything when he did that, he simply was too much to handle. It was true that, when he was keeping himself far from the bottle, he could be quite the nice fellow. But most days he essentially was a douchebag on wheels. His big greasy hand was still seizing Nadia’s arm and she, although smiling broadly, looked rather worried. There had been rumors about how he treated girls making the rounds, and each and every girl in the neighbourhood had sworn some kind of secret oath to avoid him at all cost. In reality, the fact of the matter was, some of them really needed the money, and however abusive he was, he always paid more than enough. Nick had heard all kinds of stories about Dinger, some bad and some worse, and he damn well knew that there was nothing else to do but wait. So everytime he saw the giant enter his little joint, his jaw tightened and he prayed internally for an impending apocalypse. Continue reading
It pissed me off to think that he was gone without me.
Winston said there was nothing else to do now, that we were on our own, and yet I couldn’t believe it. The plan had always been to leave him behind; him, not me. Why? Sometimes we talked about how you never really know someone until they shit on your doorstep – literally or not. That particular conversation came back to me quickly, how true it had been then and how truer it was now, at this moment, when I was standing in the middle of nowhere with an utter nobody. Come, we have to move before the pigs get here, Winston said. I wanted to tell him to piss off, to get lost, but nothing came out. Continue reading
They say new day, new beginning, new life. Whatever.
I’d like to say, go fuck yourself. Continue reading
It had been a dead end.
I quickly came to realize there was nothing more I could do. I had to wait. Back in the day, you didn’t have any app to tell you where to go, where to find the next person. There was no swiping right or left movement, nothing of the sort. You had to wait. You had to wait for the green light, you had to wait for the rain to show up, you had to wait in line. Nowadays, people just don’t bother. You don’t see lines in the street anymore, you see riots, mishapen circles, geometrical atrocities, spatial representations of even more atrocious people really. Continue reading
They made fun of Joseph, because of his name. And because of his ears too. He had big ears, they told him he could get satellite with it. He began to wear hats all the time, inside outside. Hats were the first shield he found, a cheap one, but effective most of the time. Then he told everyone to call him Joe. There was no more Joseph. Joseph was nothing but a nightmare, a pathetic sod, a poor excuse for a human being. That was what growing up meant to him, and when people laughed about these years, he did not. He watched over those years as a precious jewel, his own personal treasure. Continue reading