Monday 12 December 2011

Ruffled feathers in a coldwave

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Fieldnotes #324
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Lost buttons and used chewing gum; spent matches and tarnished coppers. You search stolen pockets for what you thought was left behind from the night before it began. The loose change cascades into unemployment; stripped fortunes will melt pritt-sticked hearts. Across to the left, behind the till, a pretty girl with a turned down mouth and a fluffy coat waits patiently for a Latte that will take its time to arrive. Stubbed fingers drum in marching time, punching digit holes into an interesting Ikea-lite table. The boy's turtle-shell glasses continually slip down his nose and an index finger rescues the situation time over and again. Scarfs are worn inside, only the gloves are off (literally and metaphorically, as it transpires). You can tell this is a moment that isn't about to last; this is not a relaxed coffee catch-up of old friends or even ex-lovers. It is waiting to happen - and now. You stand to the side for your order, pretending not to witness what you are staring at; you just can't help it. And then she just says it, rather loudly as it turns out. He flinches, hunches and then jumps up in seconds; a pained expression masked in both longing and loathing. He makes to leave, a sugar dispenser hits the floor and smashes into a million pieces. Turning to catch his eyes, 'sorry' is all she can say even though she doesn't mean it. You can see the relief washing over her, like that first sip of coffee after a hard day's night.
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Afraid of Stairs - 'Tell him how you feel' (2.37)
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Step into the light, outside yourself. For a moment in time.
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5 comments:

  1. Oh what a wrinkle in time - poor fellow. "Like that first sip of coffee after a hard day's night" - fantastic line. PS. Isn't Labrador just divine??

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  2. I'm speculating. But. I think I witnessed the confession of an affair. And an instantaneous break-up. In a cafe not 300 yards from where I stay. Very depressing indeed.

    Labrador? Fuck yes! Worthy of a relocation to Sweden.

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  3. Holy majoley - will the fodders of creativity never cease. Hard to imagine the mindset it would take to think, "Let's meet in a public place, to minimize my awkwardness and suffering as I pulverize your heart into dust." Ok, so maybe that's a bit dramatic ;)

    I would move to Sweden for less but d-d-d-definitely [Rainman] for The Mary Onettes and all things Johan Angergard. xo

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  4. Hehe... well, it was my interpretation of what I saw. They were probably just having a wee huff about who was cooking dinner that evening, or something. :)

    Well, as well as the music there is also the meatballs with potatoes and lingonberry sauce. YUM. And, on June 23rd, the sun never sets apparently. Hide ye vampires!

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  5. Sweet potato curry soup! No- tamales! Doing the damn dishes is better cause for a battle in my book.

    This vampire would suffer the sunshine if it meant a ride on a reindeer or two.

    All this talk of food - tummy grumbles and growls. Nachos! And better yet, no one to argue with me, except that means I have to do those beastly dishes. Where are those Swedish elves when you need them??

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