The last time I left the house was June 5th. I had been to the supermarket for my essential buys – cream, eggs, batteries – and had hoped to use the toilets in the shop. Upon reaching them, however, I was dismayed to find they were closed due to vandalism. I wracked my brain for an alternative. My house was too far a walk to hold in what I was carrying, and I didn’t want to risk having to urinate outside.
With a smile, I recalled there was a public toilet in the park – a bit out of the way of my normal journey, but ‘needs must!’ I thought, and quickly made my way out of the shop.
By the time I reached the park the situation was getting desperate, and I rushed into the toilet and straight into the cubicle – urinals make me feel self-conscious. To my horror, the toilet’s bowl was pasted with a foul-smelling soup of oily human discharge, and the floor sticky with old waste. I decided I would risk the urinals after all.
I opened the cubicle door and stepped back into the toilet’s main area – ‘The Defacators’ Lounge’, as I humourously refer to it in private. Just then, another man entered through the door and spotted me. He was startled at first but then smiled, nodded and gestured to the door he was holding open.
An icey chill gripped my spine. He thought I was leaving, he was holding the door open for me. Could I tell him I wasn’t ready to leave? I looked into his eyes; sparkling with kindness, the sincere smile on his chubby face wavering slightly as I inspected his features. I felt my bladder twitch against the weight of my burden, as the man gestured again towards the open door, his brow beginning to furrow. I had to act.
“Why thank you!” I cried, and marched out into the frosty park. I hated myself, but more than that I hated the earnest and chubby man. I curse his name to this day.
In a state of panic, I tried to calm myself and consider my options. My insides flexed and I felt a slight spurt of warmth gush into my briefs. I clenched hard and let out a whimper of despair, a single tear ran down my cheek to my mouth. I licked it off and tried to focus on the taste, willing my body not to rebel against me.
“I’ll have to run…” I thought, and with that I was off; bounding across the grass and towards the road, breathing hard against the strain on my lungs. It had been a long time since I had been made to run anywhere, and I have to admit I was not at my physical peak. As the pain in my chest grew, I starting uncontrollably releasing a loud noise with every inhaled breath, a sort of “whhhooooaaaaahhhnnkk!” Try as I might, I couldn’t control it.
As I left the park and rounded the corner, I suddenly ran into a large group of parents, teachers and children standing around the gates of the school. It was home-time, and luck was not on my side. As I passed into the throng of people and their young offspring, I lost my footing on the edge of the curb, and the shock of it unleashed an almight “wwwhhhhhoooooooaaaaaaaaaaahhhhnkkkkkUHHHHHH!” Immediately, laughter erupted around me. It burned my ears, the volume of it; I stopped and looked around me. Children pointing their stubby little hands at me, delighted at my terrible outburst. The adults looked embarressed as they half-heartedly tried to discipline their kid through their own stifled laughter. The humiliation enraged me.
“You…HUUUUHHHH… monsters!” I shouted, my breath evading capture. “You…HUUUUHHHHH… you mock aHUUUUHHHHH… an innocent man? HUUUHHHHHH Shame! Shame on you aHUUUUUHHHHH… all!”
The laughter died suddenly, and all was silent. The parents looked suddenly dismayed, embarressed. The children looked at each other with wide eyes. For a moment, the world was still, and then I felt it. The warm, cloying feeling around my loins. Steam seemed to be rising from my legs and into the air as vapour, stinging my nostrils. Something trickled into my sock, and I shuddered. Laughter enshrouded me, and I fled.
It’s been weeks, maybe months since I last went outside. I had to put black bags all over my windows to block out my laughing neighbours, and the children who would come to the end of my path. For a while I would peek out of the letter box, and I could see them – hiding in the bushes, or ducked down behind the fence. After 6 weeks, I taped it shut.
My food supply is down to nothing now. I’m weak, emaciated – my skeletal form reflects back at me from my useless television screen (the power was cut off long ago, probably part of some sick joke).
This morning, I could cope no more. I decided to take action, the only action I could see as an option. I would have to catch, kill and eat my cat, Chris Thompson. He is my last connection with the outside world, and has been a good friend to me these last, difficult months. It was a hard decision to make, but I made it all the same, and as Mr. Thompson entered through the cat-flap into the kitchen, I pounced on him, and we tussled.
The fight did not last long, and in my weakened state I was quickly overpowered. Chris pinned me to the floor, sitting on my chest and scratching me lightly on the nose. We’ve been like this for twenty minutes now; me sprawled on the floor, Chris sitting on my chest, purring victoriously. As he curls up and closes his eyes, drifting into a deep, contented sleep, it’s all I can do to quietly cry.
Review in Haiku
Paper Moon (Peter bogdanovitch, 1973)
Brilliant movie
With two O’Neills and a Kahn
Cross-country conning
P.S. You may have noticed my posts have not been as frequent since I’ve returned from my holiday – as you can see, I’ve jumped from day 100 to 105. This is because I’ve been busy with other things this past week or so, or if not busy, then not in a position to update this blog. I’ve tried my hardest to put something on here on a daily basis, but it’ s not always possible, and then I end up with a backlog of days I need to write something for – which makes it all seem a bit too much like hard work! Also, it means the quality of what I’ve put up is affected (which could be terrible news if you think it’s all pretty shit). So, in future I’ll just be writing stuff whenever I can – although I’ll try to keep it as regular as possible!
