alex4
11-08-2012, 05:13 PM
The steps were wooden and cracked, and small puddles awaited careless feet. Like everything else there, the cracked steps were overlooked, accepted as they were. The puddles were from ice cubes which had dropped and melted.
The following day I would clean them, but on this day I did not have the luxury of their company for more time than it took to descend them, and then, ten seconds later, climb them.
The cellar was a better place than the steps, better in that it was more peaceful, but it was a sour-smelling place, and my ten seconds there were enough. The climb of the steps, however, I did not want to end.
A negative mind is habitual in its process, it attaches itself to places, where it feels safe, and you become addicted to going to them.
So I enjoyed the steps, and as I climbed them the motors in my mind did their thing - pulling seeds up into nettles, big ones. I wanted to stay and be stung.
It could have been anything. It was just a simple case of magnifying and expanding any negative elements of the day, and then listening to them on loop. If there were no negative elements you created them out of what you had.
In “the room”, which was up the steps, and over the cellar, Adam waited. He wore socks which contained much colour, many reds in particular, and they were pulled up straight, very straight, above his dark shoes, below his dark shorts.
“Say there Joanne when you get a second could you check the girls toilets for us?”
I nodded my consent, and, after I had been left alone - alone in “the room” - I pulled out the tray of clean glasses fresh from the dishwasher. I had cut my finger when in the cellar, when changing the cola, and the blood from it smeared the side of a tulip glass. I looked at the smear, disinterested.
Like everything else there, it would be overlooked, accepted as it was.
A barman and a waitress ran through “the room”, laughing in a tangle, it was a small water fight. The barman flicked water at me, playfully. The waitress gave me a wink. They left.
I looked at the smear on the side of the tulip glass. And I smiled.
**Any form of critique most welcome :) **
The following day I would clean them, but on this day I did not have the luxury of their company for more time than it took to descend them, and then, ten seconds later, climb them.
The cellar was a better place than the steps, better in that it was more peaceful, but it was a sour-smelling place, and my ten seconds there were enough. The climb of the steps, however, I did not want to end.
A negative mind is habitual in its process, it attaches itself to places, where it feels safe, and you become addicted to going to them.
So I enjoyed the steps, and as I climbed them the motors in my mind did their thing - pulling seeds up into nettles, big ones. I wanted to stay and be stung.
It could have been anything. It was just a simple case of magnifying and expanding any negative elements of the day, and then listening to them on loop. If there were no negative elements you created them out of what you had.
In “the room”, which was up the steps, and over the cellar, Adam waited. He wore socks which contained much colour, many reds in particular, and they were pulled up straight, very straight, above his dark shoes, below his dark shorts.
“Say there Joanne when you get a second could you check the girls toilets for us?”
I nodded my consent, and, after I had been left alone - alone in “the room” - I pulled out the tray of clean glasses fresh from the dishwasher. I had cut my finger when in the cellar, when changing the cola, and the blood from it smeared the side of a tulip glass. I looked at the smear, disinterested.
Like everything else there, it would be overlooked, accepted as it was.
A barman and a waitress ran through “the room”, laughing in a tangle, it was a small water fight. The barman flicked water at me, playfully. The waitress gave me a wink. They left.
I looked at the smear on the side of the tulip glass. And I smiled.
**Any form of critique most welcome :) **