Night Time

Garret wasn’t what Susan expected. It is obvious. Now it is obvious. And his name. It sounds like ferret. Why would Susan, as I know her, ever look twice at that guy, let alone meet him. What do I know. I am just a, what do you call it. I don’t even know what to call myself. I am a rubber. That kind of rubber. Even though I am a certain type of contraceptive, I don’t have a name. Nobody would dream of giving me a name. There is nothing original about me. I am just one of many of a kind.

I just don’t think it’s fair. I didn’t choose this. This is my peak, crammed between two persons’ fleshy intimate parts. It’s not glamorous. Where will I end up? In the ocean perhaps. I would like that. Oh, how I long for the ocean. How I long for this to be over with. I think I can make it to the ocean. I am strong. My elasticity knows no boundaries. I am still young, fresh, newly fabricated and packaged. I travelled through continents to get here. Will my journey soon come to an end, or will I continue, just floating around. Will I be flushed down a drain.

A condom, if not purposefully destroyed, has a life expectancy of 10 000 years. I just made that up. But I’m sure I will be around long after humans have left this planet. I am just rambling now. I am just a rubber. What do I know.

Come to think of it I don’t have an opinion on anything. I’m just feeling funny today. My mind’s going off in all sorts of directions. It’s just the lying in the wrapper, the darkness in there, the structured rolled up existence, the unused lube, and then that loud ripping apart of my resting place and the light flowing in. The stretching and the scent. I just want to be taken care of.

Who is talking through my voice. Who’s consciousness is this. I need to take charge. I am talking through the voice of a … I lost myself there for a moment. Who is this guy? I thought the conversation was all right. Now he feels like such a stranger. Who the hell am I fucking? I must have drifted off again.

I gotta do what I gotta do. Gonna do me now. Gonna be the phantom. Just gotta believe it. Gotta get in the flow, lose it to the music, can’t stop the feeling, can’t stop the Garthalizer. Yeah, you know she likes it. Keep it positive man. Don’t fail on me now. Keep that voice in my head, make it louder, tune out the noise. Why am I not enjoying it. Stop thinking Garret. Stop it. Don’t go there. Do your thing. Chicks dig it. You’re a king. Show her what you’ve got. Freakin’ condom. Gotta give it all you got. No turning back. Keep at it. Almost there. Why does it feel like I’m on the subway not getting anywhere. Why don’t i feel hot right now. I’m losing it. Focus. Kill that thought.

I still can’t believe someone like her would want me. What are these thoughts. Where are they coming from. It’s just you. It’s the bottom of yourself talking. Let me out, Garret. No, never. Get back down there and let me do my thing. What is your thing man. What are you talking about. You don’t know who you are. You are just doing what people tell you, what you read somewhere by some random dude on the Internet you know nothing about. From whom are you taking advice. This is going nowhere. Just roll off her. Look at her, look at that blank face. She wants to leave and it’s your fault. Screw this, time out, I’m rolling off her.

“What happened?”

“I don’t know. I feel kind of … weird.”

Do you?”

What am i doing. What do I say now. I’ve never done this before. What is happening. I have to get out of this room, I can’t take this. Just take me away from here. Make it stop.


Written for YeahWrites weekly prompt #388.

First prompt is an opening sentence: “Garrett wasn’t what Susan expected.”

Second prompt is the Narrator’s Point of View: An sarcastic inanimate object

 

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Friends and foes

mouse

His name was Charles. It was the name that the employees, jokingly, had given him. For most he was a bit of a mystery, leaving small traces here and there, evidence of his existence. The last time I saw him was just after my shift, having cleaned down the whole bar, poured chlorine in the sinks and mopped the floors. Karen was upstairs changing. He didn’t move very fast, his large belly dragging along the floor, the tiny legs struggling to propel him forward. His appearance more like a small, funny-looking dog than a rodent, as if by feeding on our leftover scraps he had all by himself taken another step on the evolution ladder.

– Hey, he said.

I froze. It took some time for his small black sensitive eyes to fixate me.

– What? he went on.

– It’s just. I mean, you’re not supposed to be here. You really shouldn’t.

– Why’s that?

– We serve people here.

– There’s nobody here now.

– What, so you’re saying that’s why you show yourself?

– Just trying to be tactful. A little savoir-vivre.

– You weren’t so tactful with the butter.

– Got carried away with that one. Sorry.

– You’re sorry?

– What’s so strange with that?

– Didn’t think you’d say that, is all.

– You didn’t think I was sophisticated?

– That’s not what I said.

– But you implied.

– What was that noise?

– What noise?

– Did you just burp?

We stood in silence for a minute. That is, he sat in silence and I stood.

– What are you thinking now? he said.

– I’m not gonna stand here and make conversation with you.

– Why?

– Do you ever stop that?

– What?

– You’re like a child, never-ending questions. You’re really getting on my nerves.

– Did you leave anything at all for me today?

– No, that’s the point. Why do you think we have this new order? Why do you think we put chlorine everywhere?

– Just saying. Sometimes you miss a few crumbles here and there. You miss a lot of things.

– It’s hard to reach in everywhere.

– I think you do it on purpose.

– Why don’t you just go?

– And those traps your people set ut. I don’t go for those.

– We caught a few in them.

– Yeah, it was actually quite a scare to see how brutal you can be.

– You’re not gonna make me feel guilty.

– I think you should feel guilty.

– My colleague’s coming back. You should get going.

– Why? You don’t wanna get caught talking with me?

– She might not be as understanding.

– Oh, she a racist?

– That doesn’t make sense. Besides, she’s really nice.

– She just hates small innocent animals? Sounds charming. I’ve seen the way you look at her.

– You’ve been watching?

– Not much else to do, waiting around.

– You sneaky little bastard.

– I got you all talking about me.

– True. We have meetings about you. And why would you ever dig up soil from the potted plants? What is the point of that?

– Don’t know. For fun? I dig it.

– Very funny.

– You know that I’m in charge, right?

– I’m gonna get you, you little …

I reached for the mop that was standing by the dishwasher, and in a flash of a second I swinged it towards him.

– Where did you go?

– Who are you talking to?

It was Karen coming back.

– Are you ready to get out of here?

– You go ahead, I’ll catch up in a sec.

She went out the staff entrance, and I kneeled and looked around underneith the shelves and racks of glasses. I turned on the flashlight app in my phone and lit up the dusty corners. And I swore I could here him laugh, a squeaky, vicious little laughter, it seemed to come from everywhere, or perhaps from inside my head. I started to feel a little nauseous. I needed to stand up.

– We’ll see, I said to the murky darkness. Just you wait.

The laughter got darker, changed character and pitch. It reminded me of an evil Santa. I rose up a little too quickly and hit the back of my head on the counter. As I stood there holding my hand on the throbbing pain there was this whispering rising from all around me.

– You will leave the butter on the bartop. Leave it out. Pick it up from the refrigerator and leave it there. Rip off a piece off the plastic. Do it. Do it now.

And i did, like so many times before.

  

Rien de spécial

Ok, ça fait quelque temps que je n’écris pas ici. Quoi de neuf? Beaucoup d’autre choses à faire, mais nous planifions un quiz en français peut-être au fin janvier. Maintenant on a plusieurs dîners de Noël au café, et on va aussi arranger un spectacle, on va montrer un film au dehors du café, A Christmas Carol, si le temps nous le permettra.

Maintenant je suis en train de cuire du pain. Dans deux heures je commence mon boulot. Je travail tard ce soir et tôt demain matin, alors je vais être fatigué demain soir. Mais, j’ai aussi pas mal de temps libre, alors ça va.

Du vin

Je suis allé à l’alliance française pour une dégustation des vin blancs d’Alsace. Pas mal! Pinot Blanc, Pinot Gris, Riesling, Gewurtztraminer.

Et pour l’instant je lis le roman de Marguerite Duras, L’Amant. Un nouveau mot: Ployer. Le mémoire ploie. Un peu comme: The memory fails, is weak.