My 'End of the world' story
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Friday, April 20, 2012
Christopher scooped up the diary, but, somehow even before he opened it, he knew it wasn’t his: brown, leather bound, 2012, page a day. His senses were correct, it didn’t belong to him.
Christopher recalled the emergency stop, his diary falling to the floor.
‘Watch what you’re fucking doing!’ they whispered, mimicking the angry bus driver.
They understood what had happened. Identical diaries. Swapped.
Christopher decided not to read it, it wouldn’t be right to intrude upon someone else’s personal thoughts.
Christopher smelled the pages; they held the aroma of those violet sweets he used to eat as a small child.
Christopher started at the beginning, his heart broke that
had started the New Year feeling so alone; hiding in her bedroom to escape the spiteful words her parents hurled at one another. Bethany
Christopher felt rage that Ben Richards, in the school year above, had tried to force
into a physical relationship that she hadn’t been ready for. Bethany
Christopher held his breath when he read that
’s Mum had gone missing. Bethany
Christopher had a funny feeling inside and forgot all about Nicole Cooper.
Christopher longed to meet
So did Christopher.
Christopher shyly smiled.
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
Gordon searched the carriages at the end of his shift, scooping up the weird and wonderful artefacts of lost property to hand into the station: a family photograph, a paisley scarf and a single jewel encrusted, glittering stiletto. He had a funny feeling in his crotch that he didn’t understand, and so, uncharacteristically, stuffed it into his bag.
Back home, he took it out and lovingly stroked the knobbly crystals. It was a large shoe, he immediately visualised an outrageously tall, blonde with a figure to die for. Gordon wished to find the owner. During the night, he dreamed about sliding his foot into the stiletto.
In the morning, Gordon did some internet research and discovered some photographs which looked just like the shoe he cradled in his free hand. He printed off the address and ran out to his bicycle. He arrived at Diane’s Boutique and struck gold. She had recently embellished that very shoe, for Vicky over at Wonderland.
Gordon dashed over to Wonderland, a strip club with violet walls. He shyly asked to see Vicky; he wished to return some property left on a train. Vicky is a man, dressed as a woman. Gordon’s level of excitement, concerning the shoe, does not falter.
‘Oh my Prince Charming!’ shrieked Vicky in a male voice. The long blonde wig confused Gordon. As did the fact that Vicky was outrageously tall and had a figure to die for.
‘Would you like to go out for a drink some time?’ Gordon heard himself asking.
‘You’re not my usual type,’ stated Vicky. Gordon felt crushed.
‘What’s your usual type?’ he asked.
‘Gay!’ laughed Vicky.
‘I might be,’ Gordon offered tentatively.
‘That’s for you to decide,’ said Vicky, stooping down to kiss Gordon’s bald patch.
‘Show me,’ Gordon pleaded, handing Vicky the majestic shoe at last.
Gordon had a front row seat at the Wonderland strip show. Vicky wore the jewel encrusted heels, was blonde, outrageously tall, and had a body to die for. Vicky also had the same body parts as Gordon. Gordon was in love.