A Beckettian Day (617 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 1 on 6 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by I.C.O. <ruudark.at.hotmail.com> (View user info) at 2004-12-14 10:23:26 EST
Woke up. I hear chatting and such noises outside my door and window. I sit up straight, to find out I woke up way too early, seeing as the alarm clock still hasn't made a sound. I sigh. After excretion and washing rituals, I put on some clothes, and grab some clean ones from the closet. I move downstairs, immediately put on my black, thick coat.
When I get outside, snowflakes were moving silently downward, somehow quite sure of their approach, and hitting the ground without a sound or hesitation. None of them seemed to mind that all their predecessors passed away down there. The ground is wet, coloured slightly darker than its dry counterpart. I sigh. Wiping the particles off my saddle, I sigh once more, to prove to my saddle that I am still not happy with its decision to crack. No response, of course. The backyard fence doesn't creak when I move it, also quite determined to keep on performing its function. What is my function?
The ride in to the buildings is as it always should be, non-eventful, lonely in the midst of the world. Arriving in the bicycle garage is less so. People seem to notice me, or they notice something of interest beyond me. I didn't care. They shouldn't. They don't. When I park my bike, out in the corner of the building, I hear someone coming in behind me. It turns out to be a girl, a lovely one at that. I look her straight in the eyes, she gazes off. Such beautiful eyes, they were. My thoughts aren't visible to her; I don't know or care about the rest. She walks off, and I follow with a respectable distance. The girl moves inside the main building. I follow her still, watching her strides, her stance, picking up her scent. Am I male?
I put my black, thick coat inside my yellow locker space. Someone once decided to draw a swastika upon its door. I got some toilet paper with water, and tried to clean the poor thing, for I knew no one else would do it for me. A black smudge remains up until now of the cleaning. It makes my locker look individual, it's now set apart from the rest. Apparently, it follows its own path, not interested in what other lockers may think of it. How brave some of my possessions are. Perhaps they took it from me. I do not like the thought, that must mean they notice me. The fact that they don't seem too eager to respond when I address them also unnerves me. Is it so, that my belongings don't want to be my belongings? I ponder the theory, when the overruling sound of the buzzer strikes, and stimulates me to go into a certain room. Am I a student in a school? Does that mean I'm not an adult?
The room is filled with people, almost all of them seemingly under-aged. One heavy man with thick glasses is talking to one girl. I wonder how the glasses get up there each day. Does the man ever take them off? Does he have an existence outside these buildings? I sit down, next to another male. He does not seem to be distracted by my arrival, and keeps on socialising with the person, I believe female, in front of 'us'. I compare books on other tables to the contents of what I apparently brought in with me. As I take out the matching books, I apologize to the holder for not noticing it until now. I can only imagine it being mad at me, which doesn't make me feel any better.
As the day progresses, I haul my clothes and flesh to other rooms and halls. Mostly, I seem to sit next to the same guy from the first room. He has a red sweater and black, ribbed pants. Do I like him? Does he know me? I don't hate him, I don't like him. I can appreciate him for not making me feel worse like the holder did. At some point he made sounds in my direction, but his eyes were not focused upon my glasses. He stopped making sounds, and after I apologized to my glasses for not noticing them, everything was ok.
The time in the halls I spent looking for something, which I didn't need. The halls are crowded with persons putting things in their mouths, and chatting amongst themselves. I walked in between the groups, overhearing shards of sounds. I deftly avoided bumping into the bodies moving between tables, as they seemed to have trouble avoiding me.
The glowing orb in the sky kept switching places with the sky next to it. It just crept forth, the sky permitting its dominance, avoiding it as I did the bodies. At last, it seemed to have reached the other side of the sky. One more of the dominating sounds could be heard, after which lots of the young persons moved towards the exit. I saw the same girl, moving slowly with the stream, and, as I followed her again, she got on her bike, focused her eyes on my glasses, and said: "See you tomorrow, ICO." I followed her lead, smiling as she did, after which she left. I greeted my bike, and we, together with my glasses, coat, and holder, retraced the steps from the beginning of the day. I like my coat.
User Reviews
Submitted by shandythedog (user info) at 2005-01-01 08:02:59 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
i rather like it. perhaps not as much as you like your bike, but still.
i'm glad you like your bike.
it's nice to like things.
i would like to like more things more often.
Submitted by SantaClaus (user info) at 2004-12-14 16:01:30 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Hadooken (user info) at 2004-12-14 10:48:18 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
i'm bored, but not that bored.
Submitted by Ferretnose (user info) at 2004-12-14 10:39:29 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
Just give us some paragraph breakage.
F.
Submitted by Jeanneee (user info) at 2004-12-14 10:28:37 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
WTF I'm not reading all that!
Submitted by ICO (user info) at 2004-12-14 10:25:57 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
This just came out, I didn't look it over twice. Sorry for any inconsistencies.