And this was my moment (621 hits)
Category: NoneLabels: fiction
Rating: 1.03 on 20 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Nuggs (View user info) at 2004-07-06 00:02:06 EDT
It all began with a moment I'm sure each person on this earth has had- where time seems to have been confused as to which speed it was supposed to travel; the moment where one looks around and can't seem to ground their feet into the present.
I said, "It seems like just yesterday I was here for the first time". I looked around the ballroom with the cloak of history clouding my vision. The weighty chartreuse curtains frame the view of the Michigan Avenue a few stories below. My attention is drawn back inside, my eyes scan the room slowly, trying to both capture the entire mood of the huge room and pick apart each beautiful detail. The balconies that rest above each of the pristine french doors are filled with important people. People who have had their day of dancing on the ballroom floor, and now they find comfort and enjoyment milling in the rooms above, peering down at their elegant daughters and up-and-coming sons.
The mayor of Detroit is always spotted in one of these balconies. Sometimes he is seen casually leaning against the golden rails of his own platform, surrounded by other members of high society. Other nights he would be mingling with a visiting emissary- one night I even saw him sipping champagne with the President!
It seems as if each surface and fixture had been tended to when they built the Book-Cadillac Hotel. Even the cieling was adorned in the tractional French Fleur-de-Lis.
Reality shifts. It felt as if I were waking from a dream that I was enjoying- you know, the dreams in which you are talking to a dead realitive or a long lost friend? I rubbed my eyes, willing them to continue deceiving my brain.
How could this have happened? With my vision now stripped of any sentimentality I saw the reality of what was before me. Debris littering the once beautiful polished floor, the few curtains that still hung from their original hooks and rods were decaying and tattered. Every piece of glass in the room had been shattered. The air was heavy with the smell of mold, death, and decay.
Suddenly my safety came to mind. I looked up at the ceiling- was there any immediate danger of something falling on me? My eyes darted towards the dark corners- surely there must be some vagrants living here. My sanity sprang to mind- quickly quieting the matters of my safety.
How did I get into this old hotel? Where was I last? I simply couldn't remember any details leading up to this point in my day. I looked out the window that stood just to the left of where I was standing. I remembered nothing. The sky was growing dark, the air was starting to cool, and my sanity was drifting further and further away.
I heard a match strike. I saw the sudden flare. I gasped. I tried backing up quitely towards the wall. The relevancy of how I had reached the fourth floor ballroom did not compete with the importance of getting out undetected. It seemed the more I was trying to be quiet, the more noise I was making- I tripped over a piece of the cieling, slid a bit on some rubbage, and finally felt my back against the cool wall.
My breath left my body in a rush- my chest falling with the release of pressure. I must have held it in since the moment I realized I wasn't alone in the old Hotel. I waited for the person to come out of the dark back room. They had to have heard me- indeed, I wasn't very stealthy.
No one came. The back room was aglow- a fire for heat? Cooking food? Drugs of some sort? I didn't know, nor did I plan on finding out. After my heart had settled into its normal spot in my chest cavity I started to walk towards the stairs. My shoes were making a rediculous amount of noise with each step.
Why on earth was I wearing these? The shoes I had on were identical to the type I wore to the old balls. I hadn't worn these shoes in twenty years or more! Last time I tried them on my swollen feet wouldn't even go half-way in. Had I got a new pair? Maybe in my old age I was starting to lose more than just my looks- my sanity was slowly slipping away.
I kept peering around me, like a cat trapped in the dogs kennel. I was mentally tallying distances to doors and hiding places. Someone was moving about in the room with the fire- their shadows were playing against the back wall. From my vantage point I couldn't tell if they were coming or going, I couldn't gauge how safe I was in my escape along the perimeter.
They stepped out into the main ballroom. I froze. A breeze from behind me wisped my hair into my face. I realized my form was silhouetted against the twilight- I had stopped before one of the huge windows. The man froze. He stared at me, his eyes growing larger and larger. My arm moved involuntarily to my face, I burshed my hair out of the way.
His hands fell open and a spoon clattered against the floor. A dark patch was spreading across the front of his trousers. I couldn't easily see his expression due to the large beard and multitude of grime on his face, but I figured he was either crazy or drugged up.
The moment was slow in passing, but I finally jarred myself into action. I ran. I knew I shouldn't run... actually, I had thought I couldn't run... but I found myself at the stairway that had been a seemingly impossible distance just a moment earlier. I quickly turned to see if the vagrant had followed me. He had not. He was still standing in the same spot- looking horrified.
Clambering down the stairs didn't prove to be as easy as the run across the ballroom. My dress kept struggling against my legs with each turn, the heels of my shoes were getting tangled in the hem at each landing. After an eternity I burst into the night air.
It was fully dark. I didn't need to remind myself how dangerous Detroit was at night. In my 80 years I had seen the decline of the city. The days of High Society were far beyond us- we were in the age of inner-city poverty and crime. Many thoughts and questions were poking around in the halls of my sub-consciousness, but my conscious mind knew I needed to find safety before I could mull over the incongruities of the moment.
I felt exposed no matter where I walked. Along the building my light dress stood out in stark contrast against the brick- walking out near the street left me feeling as if I were naked and on display in a curiosities shop. The first person I passed paid me no attention at all- to my surprise. A few cars drove by, and no one even looked at me.
Really, how can an 83 year old white woman dressed in an extravagant white chiffon dress walk unnoticed along Washington Boulevard after dark? After nearly twenty minutes I happened upon a liquor store. I debated walking on without stopping, but I knew I wasn't capable. I hadn't exerted myself this much in years- I had to stop.
I walked in and the man behind the counter gave me an odd look, as was expected. I quickly stated my problem, "Um, hello. I've somehow come to find myself here without a way home- You see, I can't explain-" The door opened again, and the man behind the counter looked to see who had entered. I waited for them to greet each other before going on.
"Johnny- hey man- You come up here to get your shit tonight, eh man?". I stepped aside to let this Johnny character approach the counter. I politely clasped my hands together and looked away from the men. "Eh Man, this is the best rocks you can get 'round here" continued the shop keeper. My eyes alighted on the drugs.
I absolutely couldn't belive it. I may be old, but some things I never have seen and never anticipated seeing. This was one of those things. Johnny handed the man a stack of money, and in return he was handed drugs. I found myself questioning the situation. They must have forgot I was here. They must be high on drugs already. I had to leave before they realized that I had seen them do this transaction. Or maybe kids these days had no sense of respect or danger? Perhaps they simply did not care what I had seen!
I was only a few steps from the door, so I left without urgency- I did not want to raise their attention needlessly. I got to the door, flung it open, and rushed out.
At the last second, right before the door closed, I turned to assess the situation- was I safe?
"Damn man, that got damn door has been blowin' open all night. I gotta get that shit tied shut or some shit."
This was the moment that time caught up with me. I was aware that the hair I burshed from my face in the ballroom was the same shiny dark hair that I had in my youth. The dress was the same dress I wore on the first dance with my future husband. The shoes were the very same shoes I had been so proud to receive on my 15th birthday.
Every soul realizes when they have transitioned.
This was my time.
(image copyright detroityes.com)
User Reviews
Submitted by Herpes (user info) at 2004-07-06 16:22:53 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I've been there...
Submitted by apollo88 (user info) at 2004-07-06 15:47:00 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
you thought of me??
well one sincerely hopes you are thinking of me more often than not old girl.
Submitted by corn_nugget (user info) at 2004-07-06 10:16:31 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
FUCK I have too much sugar in this coffee damn IT.
And Apollo, I actually thought of YOU when I wrote that line about the man dropping the spoon.
But only because of the R and V post you did with Old Boy pissing into the sink.
Submitted by mystiamoon (user info) at 2004-07-06 10:15:55 EDT (#)
Ranking: -1
No Comment
Submitted by corn_nugget (user info) at 2004-07-06 10:14:43 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Ha, my dialoge (sp?) always sucks, Apollo... so I won't argue that point.
And you were not online when we were online. It was from 1am your time until maybe 5am your time, I believe. Shandy might have been off sooner than 5am, but right in that time frame.
But- from here on out I will email you once every five minutes to ensure we don't leave you out again.
Submitted by apollo88 (user info) at 2004-07-06 10:09:47 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
""""Shandy, this is what I was talking about last night... the posts I like THE most seem to be the most disliked by all of uber. The hammy posts about my ex-boyfriends father ( http://www.ubersite.com/m/28820 ) seem to go over much better than posts like these, where I feel extremly proud of my work. """"
WHAT???????
I was online last night.
No e-mail from shandy, no messenger from either of you cunts.
right.
that's it.
I am finished with both of you.
(and I thought my criticism was reasonable nugget)
Submitted by shandythedog (user info) at 2004-07-06 10:08:59 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
firstly porn, for god sake don't confuse uber popularity with quality. you know better than that.
as for the business of the stuff one works on the most seriously not coming out the best, i've thought about that quite a bit but it's too late at night now to start crapping on about it at length. it seems to have something to do with saying to oneself 'i'm going to be very writerly now' and therefore becoming a bit contrived. or maybe i'm just obsessed by this problem with my own writing and it doesn't actuallly apply to anyone else at all. anyway, sleepy time.
if i can actually fucking sleep that is, after 7 DAYS WITHOUT AN EJACULATION
Submitted by corn_nugget (user info) at 2004-07-06 09:25:51 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Oh, and for the two people who do not understand (I really hoped I didn't have to do this):
She's a GHOST, and the story is about her coming to the realization of the fact that she isn't alive any longer.
-Shandy, this is what I was talking about last night... the posts I like THE most seem to be the most disliked by all of uber. The hammy posts about my ex-boyfriends father ( http://www.ubersite.com/m/28820 ) seem to go over much better than posts like these, where I feel extremly proud of my work.
Perhaps the fact that I am a bit insane skews my reality- as this womans reality is skewed by the fact that she is dead.
That would explain everything.
Submitted by I_Have_a_Kristen_Fetish (user info) at 2004-07-06 07:02:15 EDT (#)
Ranking: -1
This made absolutely no sense.
Submitted by apollo88 (user info) at 2004-07-06 06:45:40 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
This is eskimoish because I read a book last night about a man whom was seperated from his body. Not ghost like but self aware.
I like the story and I like the imagery.
The dialogue seriously sucks though.
Oh and....
""""
His hands fell open and a spoon clattered against the floor. A dark patch was spreading across the front of his trousers. I couldn't easily see his expression due to the large beard and multitude of grime on his face, but I figured he was either crazy or drugged up.
""""
Is that shandy??!
Submitted by shandythedog (user info) at 2004-07-06 05:20:12 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
i like the story and concept, and bits and pieces of description are vivid.
some of it though seems a bit laboured and not as natural as your usual style. could probably do with a bit of pruning. but i could be quite wrong and my judgement is particularly unreliable right now due to bottom situation.
Submitted by Siren (user info) at 2004-07-06 03:54:40 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Awesome story! I worked in a dollar store once. The break room looked like that picture. I'm not kidding.
Submitted by AlwaysAnEagle (user info) at 2004-07-06 02:15:55 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Awesome.
Submitted by corn_nugget (user info) at 2004-07-06 01:34:38 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
What an odd bunch of reviews.
Submitted by RouteTwo (user info) at 2004-07-06 01:32:19 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
um, a little buzzed here...maybe i'll read this later, seems good...you don't mean "nuggets" as in the diggity-dank-ganj do you?
Submitted by gle_ek (user info) at 2004-07-06 01:14:10 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
+1. i will leave it where i found it because i didn't read it. i know that's wrong, but you can't start something that long with "it all began with..."
Submitted by shitfuck (user info) at 2004-07-06 00:37:52 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
"Damn man, that got damn door has been blowin' open all night. I gotta get that shit tied shut or some shit."
Submitted by GodChicken (user info) at 2004-07-06 00:19:23 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Nuggetlady, where have you been?
Submitted by munkeypants (user info) at 2004-07-06 00:13:46 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
why don't i understand this? it was good writing though.