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Without Discord, there can be no Harmony (761 hits)

Category: Romance
Labels: fiction

Rating: 1.47 on 28 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Labels:

Submitted by Flash Harry (View user info) at 2008-06-05 11:10:32 EDT


The man in the seat across the aisle slept soundly. His limbs, swollen and hairy, hung gently by his sides, swaying with the bus as it rumbled and swerved further south. I couldn't sleep. I couldn't get comfortable. My back ached, unsupported by the chair, and my skin recoiled in irritation at the chafing material.

The fat man began to snore. He was insufferable. Lips agape, nostrils reverberating, tongue slapping against the roof of his mouth with moist intent. I stared at him and shuddered. I began to wonder if I had ever hated another human so passionately. His face quivered like a bloated bladder as he chewed over another mouthful of oxygen, before snorting it out. My blood boiled. This was so unfair. How come the hideous fat man got to sleep while I was kept awake, like a chump, glaring at his jowly face?

I decided to look out the window for a while. But only for a while, lest I get motion sickness. The world outside flew past in a blur of dark fields and speeding headlights. There was nothing to see out there. Nothing to focus on. Nothing to draw my attention away from the snoring torment of my fellow passengers, or the growing fear that I might never get to sleep ever again.

I fidgeted about in my bag, just to double-check I had remembered everything. Phone charger. Toothbrush. Aftershave. Well, I had the essentials. And it was too late to go back now, so anything I'd forgotten would have to be borrowed, bought or pinched.

We had been on the road for a few hours; we'd be there in another seven.

I like to try and get eight hours sleep, ideally. Seven hours is good, six tolerable and five inconvenient. Anything less than five hours and I struggle to function. I had to get to sleep soon.

I pulled a tattered paperback from my bag. The spine of this book is creased and broken, the pages loose and well-thumbed. It is one of my favourites: Tom Sharpe's Riotous Assembly. I wriggled my buttocks into the stiff cushion beneath me, and settled down to enjoy the familiar farce and macabre.

But still, the fat man snored. I found myself scanning the words, taking in just a few, before having to re-read in frustration. His grotesque nasal spluttering invaded my private thoughts and echoed around my head, so much so that in the rare moments of silence I actually repeated the offensive sound in my head. Over and over, on a loop.

Could I kill him? Would a well-placed Fisherman's Friend perhaps lodge neatly in his windpipe, causing a bug-eyed but ultimately silent death? That way I could enjoy my slumber and hop off the bus in the morning before the alarm was raised. The driver would just assume the guy was a heavy sleeper.

Or would the fat foghorn cough the mint up with an indignant roar, spraying phlegm unto us all and making the driver stop at the next Little Chef for two hours so he could compose himself. No, it wouldn't do. I silently popped the mint into my own mouth, with a sigh of resignation.

The hum of the air-conditioning buzzed into life, as though the cabin were suddenly filled with a million bumble-bees at harvest time. I quietly rejoiced; the snoring was muffled out, somewhat, by the monotonous drone. Well, it wasn't quite a calm midnight hush, but it was an improvement.

I closed my eyes and snuggled into the hoody I was using for a pillow. My thoughts turned, at last, to my destination. This hellish journey would not be in vain. At the end of the road there's a girl, who's coming to meet me. She's gonna smile and give me a hug and take me somewhere nice for breakfast. We're gonna laugh and joke and see how it goes. Find a nice garden to sit in and wile away the hours getting drunk and sunburnt. I hope the weather's good.

This will all be worth it. You have to suffer through misery to truly appreciate the good things.

I wonder how she'll smell, and if she'll look like she does in the photographs. I hope she likes jazz. I fancy dinner, drinks and dancing in a fine old-fashioned jazz club. I can't even dance all that well. I just want to go there, with her in a frock, and drink whisky and smoke. I want to enjoy that sensation: when every guy in the room looks over, and envies me, for being with the most gorgeous little creature in the place.

As I begin to doze, the fat man's snoring takes on a rhythmic quality, like a heart-beat. The air-conditioning hums like an alter boy. I will be asleep in just a moment, and I'll easily get a good seven and a half hours. Its gonna be a good day.

I know she'll greet me with a smile. If things go my way, I'll leave her with a kiss.

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User Reviews


Submitted by loveinbrevity (user info) at 2008-07-21 11:22:22 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

No Comment

Submitted by orphelia (user info) at 2008-06-06 06:45:03 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Submitted by F.J.Bell (user info) at 2008-06-06 10:20:25 BST (#)
Ranking: 0

Submitted by orphelia (user info) at 2008-06-06 02:56:28 BST (#)
Ranking: 2

Submitted by orphelia (user info) at 2008-06-06 03:04:33 BST (#)
Ranking: 2

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Christ Orphelia, what you been doing up so late? Your pregnant ass needs sleep, girl.

I kinda miss you too.
---------------------------

Ahem. 'kinda'?

KINDA?

How non committal.

I had a dream the house was on fire, fuck, it was so realistic. What surprised me most was the order in which I saved my kids, I guess I *do* love one more than the other.
I was also most upset about loosing a sketch portrait of me a loved did a few years ago. I didn't realise it had so much sentiment.

I have, however, set fire to the kitchen no less than 3 times this year already, so I guess it is no surprise dream.

Jesus, even your cut off line above is fancy and artsy fartsy. GAY. :)

No, 'kinda' gay.


Submitted by HurtByTheSun (user info) at 2008-06-06 06:11:11 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1

Translated:

I met a girl down the Bigg Market when I was in Newcastle a while ago. She was wearing charming Kappa and now I'm going back to find out if she really is pregnant!

Submitted by F.J.Bell (user info) at 2008-06-06 05:20:25 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

Submitted by orphelia (user info) at 2008-06-06 02:56:28 BST (#)
Ranking: 2

Submitted by orphelia (user info) at 2008-06-06 03:04:33 BST (#)
Ranking: 2

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Christ Orphelia, what you been doing up so late? Your pregnant ass needs sleep, girl.

I kinda miss you too.

Submitted by X54 (user info) at 2008-06-05 23:46:55 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1

I enjoyed this, but I thought the snoring man never did get resolved to my satisfaction. The noise of the AC coming on had nothing to do with you. I'd have liked it better if you'd taken some action against him. As is, he's a promise on which you never quite deliver. This made the ending a bit of a letdown for me.

Submitted by orphelia (user info) at 2008-06-05 22:04:33 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

Submitted by ChaosJester (user info) at 2008-06-06 00:23:34 BST (#)
Ranking: 2

Pleasant.

And *I* thought the language was fine.
----------------

This is *really* ni surprise, CJ.

:)

Submitted by orphelia (user info) at 2008-06-05 21:56:28 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

Submitted by Shlongy (user info) at 2008-06-05 21:38:33 BST (#)
Ranking: -2

Frock you.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
LOL :)

Submitted by ChaosJester (user info) at 2008-06-05 19:23:34 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

Pleasant.

And *I* thought the language was fine.

Submitted by Director (user info) at 2008-06-05 17:16:06 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

+2 BECAUSE OFFICE SPACE IS ON.

Submitted by Shlongy (user info) at 2008-06-05 16:38:33 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2

Frock you.

Submitted by orphelia (user info) at 2008-06-05 14:55:21 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Submitted by Pentameter (user info) at 2008-06-05 19:02:27 BST (#)
Ranking: 1

Fair enough, but that still doesn't negate the fact that the language in this piece is pretty inflated.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

But he talks like that in real life, trust me.

Always using big, fancy words, archaic words, colloquial words and slang.

He is a bit of a raging poofter with words.

But it comes naturally, it isn't forced.

You should hear him drunk.

Think 'Stephen Fry' but with a Scottish accent.

(I miss you Harry :(
No end bracket


Submitted by Orgasmatron (user info) at 2008-06-05 14:03:21 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1

FROCKA FROCKA FROCKA

Submitted by Pentameter (user info) at 2008-06-05 14:02:27 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1

Fair enough, but that still doesn't negate the fact that the language in this piece is pretty inflated.

Submitted by experima (user info) at 2008-06-05 13:38:44 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

it's true. use of the word 'frock' is still fairly common in the UK.

Submitted by orphelia (user info) at 2008-06-05 12:58:51 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

Around these parts, 'frock' is quite commonly used.

Just sayin'.

Submitted by Lib (user info) at 2008-06-05 12:52:19 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

Good as usual!
I like the word frock.

Submitted by F.J.Bell (user info) at 2008-06-05 12:24:29 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

When I go shopping, it's for a dress, and always has been. It's never for a frock, but may have been 80 years ago.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I am British, and lots of girls I know call it a frock, dress, gown, depending on the style of garment they are talking about. Must be one of those transatlantic differences I read about.

Submitted by Pentameter (user info) at 2008-06-05 12:18:42 EDT (#)
Ranking: -1

Submitted by F.J.Bell (user info) at 2008-06-05 11:53:11 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

So let me guess...you have access to a thesaurus? You called a dress a frock...in 2008.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Yeah, because I really needed to use a thesaurus to figure out 'frock'.
---------------------------------

My point was that it's obvious that you're reaching and that you're trying to sound like you're sophisticated and intelligent. When I go shopping, it's for a dress, and always has been. It's never for a frock, but may have been 80 years ago.

Submitted by Shlongy (user info) at 2008-06-05 12:02:17 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2

This reads to me like "fake deepness".

Submitted by monkeyswithguns (user info) at 2008-06-05 11:56:58 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

No Comment

Submitted by F.J.Bell (user info) at 2008-06-05 11:53:11 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

So let me guess...you have access to a thesaurus? You called a dress a frock...in 2008.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Yeah, because I really needed to use a thesaurus to figure out 'frock'.

Submitted by LittleMonster (user info) at 2008-06-05 11:50:22 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

What's wrong with calling a dress a frock?


Submitted by Pentameter (user info) at 2008-06-05 11:48:08 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

So let me guess...you have access to a thesaurus? You called a dress a frock...in 2008.

Insanely self indulgent too.

Submitted by shadow (user info) at 2008-06-05 11:41:16 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

nicely written.

Submitted by beeltea (user info) at 2008-06-05 11:27:24 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

this was worth reading.

Submitted by LittleMonster (user info) at 2008-06-05 11:24:10 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

Perfect. Wonderfully perfect.

Submitted by orph (user info) at 2008-06-05 11:17:46 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

yep

Submitted by The_Drake (user info) at 2008-06-05 11:13:40 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

True 'Dat


He's taking funny talk.

-- Homer Simpson
Like Father, Like Clown