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Steps to Bliss (746 hits)

Category: Quotes & Stories
Labels: fiction

Rating: 1.76 on 33 reviews (Rate this item) (V)

Submitted by Flash Harry (View user info) at 2008-07-08 10:01:36 EDT

On a miserable morning in the suburbs, Adam stood naked at the ironing board. He was deliberately unshaven, and creases from the pillowcase ran up the side of his face. The alarm hadn't gone off; or perhaps he'd woken earlier and turned it off, he couldn't remember. But it was alright, he wasn't going to be late. He could get ready for work in five minutes if he liked. His wife Debbie, on the other hand, was rushing around like a madwoman, trying to get her hair and make-up done on time.

He stood with his mouth open, absent-mindedly scratching himself. The weather looked ominous through the window. The clouds were thick and dark. Wind shook the trees at their very roots. It wasn't raining yet, though. He wondered if it would rain at all.

"Adam!" yelled Debbie from the bedroom. "Are you ironing your shirt?"

He shouted back that he was, turned the iron on and twisted the dial to the hottest setting. His wife appeared in the doorway, bare-breasted, with half of her hair straightened. Adam opened his mouth to ask if she would like a cup of tea, but before he could speak she had thrown a skirt at him.

"Iron this. Low temperature. Don't fucking burn it."

She stomped back into the bedroom, while he boiled the kettle.

Shirts are difficult things to iron. With Adam's stubbly face and bed-head, he didn't need to flatten it out like a billiard table, but it still took him some time. He found the sleeves the trickiest. But he almost always rolled his sleeves up once the shirt was on, so it was alright.

"Adam!" came another roar from the bedroom. "That skirt done yet?"

He called back with a hint of irritation, told Debbie that he was doing it now, and drained the last of the tea from his mug. He turned the dial on the iron down a few notches and waited for it to cool. He stuck a finger in his belly-button and smiled at the fluff. Navy blue, always navy blue, no matter what colour of shirt he wore. He sniffed it, before flicking it to the floor.

Laying the skirt out on the board, he tried to smooth it straight, but the material was thin and slid from the cover. He ran the iron over it, quickly tired of trying to get everything perfectly flat and held it up against the light. It was still a bit creased, but it would do.

He draped the skirt over the bed and went to the bathroom to wash his face, but before he could fill the sink up Debbie's footsteps sounded outside.

"What the fuck is this?" she demanded. "You didn't iron this at all."

"I did," he sighed. "But I don't know how to do skirts. You told me to do it on a low heat, and that materials supposed to be creased, in any case."

"How dare you," she hissed. "If you asked me to iron something of yours I would never give it back to you in this state!"

Adam imagined her behind the door, clenching the skirt with white-knuckled fists, tears stinging her eyes. Why does she wind herself up like this, he wondered.

"Do you want me to do it again?" he asked. But she had already marched into the kitchen to do it herself.

He was being so selfish, she fumed. He knows it takes her longer to get ready than it takes him. And Adam had been the one that turned the alarm off in the first place, she was sure of it; even if he denied it. God, she loathed him sometimes. When did he become so feckless, useless and dithering?

Debbie ironed the skirt and jumped into it. In the bedroom she quickly finished her hair and got dressed, slipping into her high-heels. She hated wearing the heels to the office but she had a meeting at lunch and the flats would have to be left at home today.

She opened the door and made to leave, but hesitated. Adam was still in the bathroom, and even though he was being insufferable, she hated to leave without saying goodbye. And, perhaps she'd been a bit demanding too.

"That's me away honey," she called out. "Sorry for arguing...I guess we're both just tired, right? I love you, see you tonight!" She listened for his reply, and half-expected him to come out the bathroom for a kiss. Adam said nothing.

She stepped towards the bathroom and heard music: he had the radio on. He mustn't have heard her. Well, she would be late if she hung around any longer. Debbie decided to give him a call once she go to the office, and skipped through the front door.

To get outside, Debbie had to go down a flight of stairs and then through the private doorway. The family that lived on the ground floor came in and out through a separate entrance.

Her heels clicked on the first two steps, when she happened to glance out the window at the blackening sky. It looked as though rain were imminent. She couldn't go to the office wet. She couldn't go to lunch for her meeting wet. She turned sharply on her heels to back for an umbrella, but her shoe slipped beneath her.

For a moment she teetered, grasping out with a panicked hand at the banister, before falling backwards, screaming in horror. She landed on her neck, bounced, cracked her spine against the banister, bounced and tumbled into a pile at the bottom of the sixteen steps.

Upstairs, Adam brushed his teeth and listened half-heartedly to Terry Wogan. When the hell, he wondered, had Debbie stopped being fun? He recalled falling in love with a bright, pleasant little thing. He still loved her, of course, but there was something else he felt when she acted like this. He hated how she spoke to him, and often wondered whether a sharp tongue was enough reason to consider divorce. Did he dislike her to that degree? No, probably not. Not yet.

Still, what was that feeling in his gut? It was more focussed than mere rage, and less defined than injustice. Maybe she brought out a brand new emotion in him, one that had never been felt before, never mind articulated. Perhaps this feeling had a name he just wasn't familiar with. Poil, or scrumble. Was that what he felt? Scrumble?

When he emerged from the bathroom, he realised Debbie was gone. Lovely, he thought. Didn't even say goodbye. Stuck-up bitch. Maybe he would divorce her afterall.

He dressed, and glared out the window. Still, the rain delayed. It was just waiting on him getting outside, of course. He knew this from experience. When he tried to put his shoe on, he discovered a knot in the lace. He sat on the bed and fiddled with the bind, growing quickly irritated by the inconvenience. His fingers trembled with fury. This was all Debbie's fault, putting him in this stinking bad mood. He was going to be pissed off at her all day, it was inevitable.

Debbie lay at the foot of the stairwell, staring back from where she had fallen. She quickly realised that she was conscious, but could not move. She tried to cry out for help, but no sound came out. Her limbs were arranged around her in sickening twists, with great bruises appearing already on her bare thighs. Great, she thought, as she saw that her skirt had ridden up to her waist. Bloody typical; whoever found her would see her knickers. It was a good job she was wearing a lacy pair.

She tried to self-diagnose. Okay, she was alive, but had probably broken something in her neck or spine. That wasn't good news. She could feel the warm touch of blood trickling down her cheek, from her ear. That was bad news. Just hang in there, she told herself in a third person narrative. Adam will be coming down the stairs any minute, the ambulance will be here, and you'll be fine. As long as you stay alive. Stay conscious. Nothing's going to be quite the same after this, I dare say, but as long as you stay alive...

Adam finally ripped the shoelace from the knot and put the shoe on, tying it up loosely this time. He didn't want to have to go through that epic struggle again. He stood by the window and peered up towards the sky. Was it going to rain, or was it just an empty threat?
He turned on the television and flicked through a few channels with the vague hope of catching a weather report. No such luck. He just couldn't make his mind up. Would he need a hooded jacket, or even an umbrella?

He put the jacket on with a sigh. The problem was, of course, that if it didn't rain then he'd get rather hot with this big thing on. Still, there was nothing else for it. Unless he put on a light jacket and carried an umbrella; but again, if it didn't rain then he didn't want to have to carry an umbrella about all day.

He went into the kitchen and folded the ironing board up with a martyred sigh. He turned the television off using the remote control, and then at the switch on the wall. He washed his mug and turned off the radio. He took one last look out the window, changed his jacket and stepped out the door, locking it behind him.

He stopped dead still for a moment. What was that noise? Was that...was it rain after all? He put his key back in the lock and went back into the flat, peering again out the window with scepticism. It wasn't raining. But he would take the umbrella anyway.

Debbie wondered what the hell was going on, from her position on her back at the bottom of the stairs. She'd heard the key turning three times now, and footsteps going back and forward. She was growing weak, and her chest felt tight, but she was still alive and awake and any second now Adam would be calling the ambulance and everything would be fine. Well, as fine as things can be from a wheelchair, but still, she just had to stay alive...

Then, finally, Adam appeared at the top of the stairs, umbrella in hand. He paused for just a second before running down the stairs, his face pale and worried. Oh, she cried in her head, thank God. Thank God for Adam. Everything will be alright. Just so long as he doesn't try to move me before the ambulance arrives, everything will be alright. Adam, she tried to say out loud. Adam, you have to phone an ambulance. I'm very badly hurt.

Adam stared at his wife, crumpled in the corner like an old coat. She was bruised, bleeding, battered. It was those bloody shoes, those treacherous, fiendish heels. How many times had he told her to be careful on them? How many times had he caught her arm as she's stumbled in them? Dozens, that's how many.

His hand shot to his pocket, as Debbie's mouth opened and closed like a landed fish. She stared at him, bug-eyed, as he stepped away from her. Her eyes were growing rapidly dull but they never left him as he opened the door, stepped through it to the outside world, and locked it behind him.

What was that look on his face? Scrumble?

User Reviews

Submitted by loveinbrevity (user info) at 2008-07-21 11:29:04 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

No Comment

Submitted by Stagger_Lee (user info) at 2008-07-10 20:49:35 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

Submitted by F.J.Bell (user info) at 2008-07-11 01:18:41 EST (#)
Ranking: 0

I think I was more trying to elicit shock than relief or happiness or sympathy. I wanted both characters to be flawed, because let's face it: nobody's perfect and relationships are tough.

-------

Yeah, I can understand you don't want them to be perfect, but to have no redeeming qualities at all is a step too far. That way when you try to do something "shocking," the reader is left going, well, so fucking what, a character I had no connection to got snuffed.

I appreciate what you're trying to do, otherwise I wouldn't bother trying to review it.

Submitted by Fey (user info) at 2008-07-10 14:03:34 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

About eight times out of ten what you get from me is a considered opinion. I enjoy reading your stuff, although I don't think I've read large amounts of your posts, but I think everyone who writes on uber (with few, notable, exceptional exceptions) panders to the audience a little too much, at the cost of their stories.

The extra plus one is for your explanation, I like that you had a goal with it.

Submitted by F.J.Bell (user info) at 2008-07-10 11:41:37 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

Thanks for the considered opinion. If I might explain myself: I am trying to write in a similar style to Roald Dahl's adult short stories. They were characterised by unusual internal dialogue and unexpected twists at the end.

Unfortunately I lack his guile and imagination.

Submitted by Fey (user info) at 2008-07-10 11:36:51 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1

You did that really well, it felt realistic and genuine. I guess, when I think about it, my issue is that the ending doesn't gel with the credibility of the rest of it, it feels like an Über twist which weakened your story.

Submitted by F.J.Bell (user info) at 2008-07-10 11:18:41 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

I think I was more trying to elicit shock than relief or happiness or sympathy. I wanted both characters to be flawed, because let's face it: nobody's perfect and relationships are tough.

Submitted by Fey (user info) at 2008-07-10 11:15:08 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1

I think you did too good a job of showing both sides of this, if what you wanted was for the woman to be the antagonist and the reader to be happy when she dies, because I'm not happy. He was a bit of an ass, as was she, but she was sorry and apologised, and then he stepped over her broken body because of his scrumbly feelings? No.

Submitted by BobSandwich (user info) at 2008-07-10 10:39:46 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

A non-fiction label would have made this story better, but it is what it is.

Submitted by Stagger_Lee (user info) at 2008-07-10 01:40:59 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

Submitted by EmissionImpossible (user info) at 2008-07-09 00:21:28 EST (#)
Ranking: 1

really good but flipping long

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It's not long, consarnit. It'd be like two pages in a book.

Bell, you need to work on your dialogue; I don't think I've ever heard people talk like that.

Also, I think the idea was supposed to be that she'd worn him down with years of nagging, which is what the "women's issues" people were talking about. But even if this was the idea, it didn't carry across very well: it seemed like it was one morning's worth of a fight, and he came off just as petty and umsympathetic as she did. And c'mon, nagging is not a good reason to leave someone paralysed at the bottom of a stairwell. I'm assuming he knew she was going to die, which is why he left her. Leaving aside the fact that that's a fuckin cold blooded thing to do, how could he be sure? If she lived, he's gonna be in legal trouble, not to mention his reputation suffering as a result of gossip. I wouldn't be friends with someone who ditched someone to die, no matter how much of a bitch she'd been to him.

Submitted by loveinbrevity (user info) at 2008-07-09 05:36:09 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

It was uncanny. While i was reading this i was getting so angry at the female character. At one point i actually said out loud "i hope this bitch dies". A few paragraphs later you have her busting her ass. This was really well written. I enjoyed it.

Submitted by F.J.Bell (user info) at 2008-07-09 05:04:02 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

Submitted by Lib (user info) at 2008-07-08 20:05:28 BST (#)
Ranking: 2

I liked it, but I think he should have had an accident too : )
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Feminist :o)

Submitted by rob_berg (user info) at 2008-07-09 04:31:13 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

type type type, click click click, *THUMP!*

Submitted by rob_berg (user info) at 2008-07-09 04:28:10 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

FUCK YOU BELL.

Submitted by F.J.Bell (user info) at 2008-07-09 04:21:15 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

Can't you just tell me to fuck off, Rob? For old times sake?

Submitted by rob_berg (user info) at 2008-07-09 04:18:17 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

You fucking rock, Bell.

Submitted by woolfe (user info) at 2008-07-09 04:04:33 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

No Comment

Submitted by Bubba2341 (user info) at 2008-07-08 18:36:45 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

Submitted by Berty (user info) at 2008-07-08 10:15:03 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

WTF IM NOT READING ALL THAT

Submitted by Sacrilicious (user info) at 2008-07-08 18:19:25 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

No Comment

Submitted by experima (user info) at 2008-07-08 17:23:21 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

this was one of your best ones

Submitted by Lib (user info) at 2008-07-08 15:05:28 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

I liked it, but I think he should have had an accident too : )

Submitted by skrapmetal (user info) at 2008-07-08 12:25:23 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

Nothing makes you smile like a happy accident.

Submitted by Yozz (user info) at 2008-07-08 11:26:36 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

Submitted by Berty (user info) at 2008-07-08 10:15:03 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

WTF IM NOT READING ALL THAT
---------------------------
I would like to take this opportunity to point out to all Uberers that Berty is, in fact, THE man.

That is all.

Submitted by Nellypaal (user info) at 2008-07-08 11:15:13 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

I never get belly-button fluff :o(

Submitted by Adamdidit2u (user info) at 2008-07-08 11:08:55 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

excellent work, I might have to read something else of yours

Submitted by sexualchocolate1984 (user info) at 2008-07-08 10:33:08 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

He stuck a finger in his belly-button and smiled at the fluff. Navy blue, always navy blue, no matter what colour of shirt he wore. He sniffed it, before flicking it to the floor.

- Mine is always blue too!? How fucking wierd.

This was awesome, recently left a bitch who spoke to me like that. I'd have stepped over her and left her there too. Fucking cunt.

Real nice story there.

Jolly good show.

Submitted by F.J.Bell (user info) at 2008-07-08 10:30:55 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

Women issues? I'd love if you could expand on that.

I agree that I have issues but fucked if I can figure out what they are.

Submitted by Phallic_Cymbals (user info) at 2008-07-08 10:30:55 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

http://youtube.com/watch?v=rL9ihXiFAko

Submitted by MudWhistle (user info) at 2008-07-08 10:27:35 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1

although I do enjoy any opportunity to randomly string "but" or "Butt" and "fuck" together in a sentence.

I call it the Beavis Complex.

Submitted by MudWhistle (user info) at 2008-07-08 10:23:28 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1

this was written well and all but fuck if I care a bit.

also

you have women issues

I say this as a bit of solidarity as I suffer the same.

Submitted by SgtHartman (user info) at 2008-07-08 10:22:49 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

holy fucking shit.

you sir, are the man.

Submitted by EmissionImpossible (user info) at 2008-07-08 10:21:28 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1

really good but flipping long

Submitted by F.J.Bell (user info) at 2008-07-08 10:17:23 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

Damn. I was worried about that.

Submitted by Berty (user info) at 2008-07-08 10:15:03 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

WTF IM NOT READING ALL THAT