Hamshaw-Mills
DORGY:
As simple as it may be, untoinge
In moments of grief:
In moments of revial:
Ok.
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If I could be an plane,
Id be 3d.
Twothousandyearsofthisshit
SMMJ..-
WHItty
All the burials are underground,
A;; the burials are underground
Gimme it to me
Go on
Gimmei it
Yeh yeh
Gimme
Git it
Gimme
Uhuh
Yep
Gis us me
Hoping for a sorcerer supreme to come
and cast me in a major motion picture.
Fink about it,
Everything.
Like a burnt toast,
Scraped layer,
Closer to…
She was a girl she was a girl
Kant I make it anymore obvvy.
Flashed;
Flooded, or confused.
When I sleep, I hope that the morning will be kinder to me then the night.
The audience is plunged into darkness.
We sit in that for the duration of this.
Riley( or not) is slightly illuminated by his computer. He(or not) reads off something.
We swiftly nipped down the back alley off the busy main street.
I was freezing a bit as I had torn the back of my jacket when coming down the stairs of Liverpool Street station.
It was alright, we would soon be inside, in the warmth.
I did have a hard time keeping up with her as she sort of went into an auto pilot mode.
‘ take the left, straight past the barbers, up the metal stairs’
Maybe she takes this route to work and back? I wonder how many times she’s done this in her life? What if she feels like she is coming back of a shift? I didn’t want her to feel that way, but I was dressed like a bit of a slob (exposed back from the rip) and I understood that her work revolved around care.
She lived on the top floor of flats located above shops. Her place was very…normal. Nothing unusual: family photos, a throw or 2, a sofa and a comfy chair, the lot.
‘Would you like a cuppa?’
‘erm sure that would be great’ I said.
I sat down, quite nicely. Never really thought about it but when you come in to a new setting you always seem to perch on a sofa/chair, sort of as if you had never sat on a sofa before.
‘It’s great you could pop by…’ I heard from the kitchen, with an assortment of sounds from the clattering of drawers to the rumble of the kettle.
‘It’s alright, thanks for inviting me!’
173 miles, a couple trains, and a bus … and I was right here.
Once settled I really took it in. I started to get cocky. I begin to film the surrounding area and take pictures. Pictures of the carpet, pictures of her kids, pictures of the wallpaper. I knew for certain that once I had sent this to the other two that they would be in just as much awe as I was.
‘What are you doing?’
Shit.
I slowly turned around to see her with a tray of biscuits and the drinks.
…
‘erm I was… I know this sounds fake but my coworker is currently studying interior design and she would love how you’ve arranged this room.’
Albeit this did sound like a lie but it wasn’t… fully
She kind of idly stood there. She popped down the tray in front of me.
‘Would you mind deleting those images? I’m not too comfortable with you sharing that, even if it is just to your coworker?’ she said.
‘Of course, I’m really sorry… I should have asked first, here I’ll show u that I deleted them.’
In my haste, I did manage to send one of the images of to the group chat but on later reflection that day, the photo was a blurry shot of my feet in the room, followed up by a couple question marks from the two.
‘there’ as I showed me permanently deleting the recently deleted folder.
‘Thank you, I appreciate that’
By this point it had become quite sour.
We had sat in silence for a good 5 minutes with a couple ‘this is nice tea, emm yeah’s’.
‘How long have you been renting this place?’ I said.
‘I don’t, I have owned this place for ermmmm maybe 14 years now’
Fuck of course, I forgot people could own their own properties.
‘I’ve done a lot of work to this place over the years so I can see what you think this a new build’
I didn’t think that.
‘I was actually thinking of moving but its such a faff, and I’d miss that view’ He pointed past me to the window behind.
‘oh… ill have a look’ I said.
I got up and ambled over to the window.
At first, I really wasn’t getting the picture but as the lines of the cascading houses seemed to form, lining with the horizon, directing all eyes to that slither of … sand? The beach. I could see the beach through the cracks of tiles. Without knowing I truly had become mesmerised. I grew up by the sea so the calling of a big body of water was strong inside of me. I started to think when I would bike up and down the promenade, bombing it down the hill. I would always wonder about that particular section that was no cycling in the height of summer. What if I could zoom through it before I was caught? Who was there to stop anyone? How would they stop someone on a bike? Where they on a bike too? Doesn’t that defeat the point on a no bike zone? Too many questions, so I would leave it to be honest, that route was far slower than diverting off to the main track off the promenade. Only a few years ago I walked down there with my nan. It had been many years since we had gone outside together so it was nice to see her out and about. Wasn’t particularly sunny or warm tbh. Naturally, we still got an ice cream and sat and enjoyed it. That was the last time I had spent time with her out and about. I wish it had been more times. I really do…
‘That’s a nasty tear you got?’
‘Yeah, I got it on the way here, when I was coming down the stairs at Liverpool Street, snagged on a jutted out piece of metal.’
‘Here I’ll go grab you another t-shirt just for now’ he said as he disappeared off into another room.
God, maybe this was all too far. I don’t know how comfortable I would be taking that shirt from him. I don’t know how comfortable I am at all. I started to type out a message to the others. My concerns, but halfway through my phone died
I really should leave.
…
With out a word, I dolphin dove out of that window with haste, disintegrating the window with my mass. I began to hurtle towards the ground, spiralling out of control. The single pane had left shards gouged into my arms and legs but with so much adrenaline and fear I didn’t even notice. I hit that ground so fucking hard. I felt one of my kneecaps take full frontal force as it collided with the concrete. Peeling myself of the floor, I began to hobble away as I felt my quartered kneecap grinding with every step. I didn’t even look back. I hoped that she wasn’t up their watching me make my haggard escape … or maybe I did… I wanted her to know what I would do… to really escape.
My partners dad has hired a van. He is moving our stuff out of London right now. I feel as if what I’m doing is a step back. But then… I saw a homeless man crying. He was crying on a Saturday. This drunk and belligerent man walked past, mocking. ‘my mum died yesterday, boo hoo’.