Roam (1980 hits)
Category: NoneLabels: crap:fiction
Rating: 1.98 on 42 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Circe <fickle.muse.at.gmail.com> (View user info) at 2005-07-10 08:29:55 EDT
I walk slowly up the three flights to my front door. Not much has changed in the three years I've been away, but the few things that have changed are enough to throw me off, make me feel slightly unbalanced. That terracotta planter that was always outside Mrs. Jones' apartment has gone, and been replaced by a small clay dog. Mrs. Jones couldn't stand dogs; I guess this means she's moved on, to another place or to that big terracotta planter in the sky, and fuck I wish I cared. I'm supposed to care, right? She used to always wave hi, always drop off loaves of her poppy seed bread because I looked underfed, and she was nice, and she was good to me, and I'm supposed to care.
But I still have the taste of airplane coffee in my mouth and the scent of cheap London hotel shampoo in my hair, and I'm too tired and too run down from trying to escape to care. I'll care later. I'll write it on a post-it note and stick to my bathroom mirror - "4.30 pm: Care." And then I'll spend an hour or so caring about all the things I'm supposed to care about, like neighbors that have gone and husbands that have died and three years running like the wind through every airport in every godforsaken corner of the planet. "Roam if you want to, roam around the world"... lyrics like that don't deserve such a stupid happy song, really they don't.
Open the door, and the key still sticks just the way it did three years ago and it takes a second to jiggle it and twist it properly and he used to take that moment to run his hand up the back of my thigh and it almost breaks through, almost comes to the surface, but then it goes away and I go inside. And it hits me like a slap, that scent, still here, veiled by the smell of dust and stale air and abandonment. It's the smell of home, of our apartment, of his aftershave and my perfume and oh, god, the incense we burned and his cigarettes and how is it still here after so long, how did it sink so deep into the walls that it's still bleeding out all this time later?
There are two stacks of mail on the table by the door. There are bills, opened and paid and neatly piled beside their envelopes and I must thank my sister for that. And there's the stack of personal mail, discreetly left unopened, at the other end of the table, sitting there like a silent accusation; how many voices are in those envelopes, how many gently pleading words of encouragement and offers of help? I should care and I don't. Later, right? Post-it note. Care.
This is not a homecoming. This is not me accepting the grief I've been running from; this is simply me returning, cowed, with my tail between my legs, because the money ran out. You can only run for so long before $5 a day adds up, and there's airfares and travel and clothes and.... the money ran out, the money wasn't there anymore, and one day there was a telegram at my bank in London that simply said "It's over. Come home." My sister again. I don't know long it had been there. I just read it and turned around and headed for the airport. I slept in the departure lounge for two days until my plane left.
Click on the light in the bathroom and stare at myself in the mirror. I have scars that weren't there before, that didn't exist the last time I looked in this mirror. Then, I was pale and flawless, washed out with grief, dull eyed. Now I'm tanned and lined, and there's a white thread of scar tissue from my eyebrow to my upper lip where a tree branch almost took out my eye in the Pantanal, and I'm washed out with grief and dull eyed.
I came across a fellow wanderer in a cafe in Ireland. I could hear his broad familiar accent clean across the room and oh fuck it made me ache, because there just aren't that many Australians out in the deserted places. It was my first day back in civilization for thirteen months, and to hear that voice, that accent, that laughing edge made me suddenly long for home, fierce and desperate. I moved to his table and smiled at him, and we made small talk, because it's what you do, and we went back to his hotel and he loved me as well as he could and his voice said my name in the dark. Familiar. I ran halfway across the world and almost died a dozen times to wind up in a seedy hotel room with a familiar accent. I was so ashamed that I left when he was sleeping. I left a post-it note on his bathroom mirror - "Be well."
I leave the bathroom and lie down on the bed. My sister will be here soon, and I'll have to explain about grief that won't let you sleep and how good running away feels. But right now this bed feels good under me and I can smell everything that used to matter to me and for now, it'll do.
User Reviews
Submitted by rad1101 (user info) at 2007-04-19 05:34:19 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
haha rad's a cunt
Submitted by Fey (user info) at 2007-04-19 05:16:31 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Bubba2341 (user info) at 2006-02-25 08:12:23 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by rad1101 (user info) at 2005-10-19 03:49:03 (#)
Ranking: 1
There are a solid four pages of +2 streaks with 30 or more reviews. That is stupid. I am weeding it all out by giving every one of them a +1; that way posts that have 1.99 with 200+ reviews gets best ever.
___________________________________________________________________________
Rad, the World would be a better place without control freaks like you. People
gave this +2s because they LIKED it! What you have done is fuck with someone's
creation simply to satisfy your need to be in charge. Why don't you go kick
or ass-rape a prisoner? Better yet, suck a shotgun...
Circe, the story is excellent.
Submitted by rad1101 (user info) at 2005-10-19 03:49:03 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
There are a solid four pages of +2 streaks with 30 or more reviews. That is stupid. I am weeding it all out by giving every one of them a +1; that way posts that have 1.99 with 200+ reviews gets best ever.
Submitted by leilani (user info) at 2005-09-20 09:33:27 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
But I still have the taste of airplane coffee in my mouth and the scent of cheap London hotel shampoo in my hair, and I'm too tired and too run down from trying to escape to care.
_________
sounds like it would make a cool couple of lines of a song. in fact this story and the prequel would be nice material for a song.... just an idea
love your posts.
Submitted by mrwolf (user info) at 2005-07-22 05:45:36 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I feel li8ke I've just been punched in the stomach.
Submitted by tyebud (user info) at 2005-07-12 20:00:46 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by DanielH (user info) at 2005-07-12 03:23:56 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Demimondesque.
Submitted by PokeyPecker (user info) at 2005-07-11 19:41:23 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
You rule.
Submitted by FWFIV (user info) at 2005-07-11 08:45:48 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Great writing as always, I really got a feeling for the character
Also nice to hear a reference to the B-52s a little band from Athens, Georgia that made good
Submitted by Xcuses (user info) at 2005-07-11 08:32:42 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Jeanneee (user info) at 2005-07-11 08:32:27 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Simple but deeply affecting. You're my hero.
Submitted by jgreening (user info) at 2005-07-11 08:26:25 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Circe, you're gonna start a god damned cult, you know that?
Like Coleman.
You'll understand what I mean in the future, when you get Skinny Kenny's book in the circle...
Submitted by jinhenkim (user info) at 2005-07-11 08:24:29 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
very good
Submitted by Berty (user info) at 2005-07-11 07:47:07 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
If I had just the teeniest fraction of your talent, just the most smallest speck, I am sure I would not only be able to support myself on my lucrative writing career but wold have my own cult to follow me around, tell me how great I am and kill themselves at my command.
Submitted by thecaes (user info) at 2005-07-11 06:50:21 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Astounding as usual. You have a real knack for conveying emotion in a very real way -- a way that feels palpable and all too familiar. You also leave a lot of questions when you write posts like this, but that's part of the intrigue; the reader fills in the blanks with numerous possibilities and it makes the entire thing more interesting to play with in our imaginations.
Submitted by apollo88 (user info) at 2005-07-11 04:29:04 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I might write something today.
Submitted by Siren (user info) at 2005-07-11 04:04:16 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
This should have more reviews than it does.
Submitted by Coyote (user info) at 2005-07-11 03:42:24 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
This was absolutely fantastic. Remember when you said you couldn't do fiction anymore? Do I get credit for calling bullshit on that? Tremendous imagery, but what gets me is the emotional depth. I would kill to be able to tap that kind of sympathetic resonance in my writing, just once.
One thing that threw me is the reference to deserted places, juxtaposed with the frequent mentions of the London hotel and being in Ireland. Just a slight jarring note. And, you were at a cafe, in Ireland? You meet better companions in pubs. At least, a pub is where I'd be hanging out if I was in Ireland. Or the Marshall Islands for that matter.
Submitted by LadyPlural (user info) at 2005-07-10 18:36:45 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
At risk of sounding like some stuck up ass (which we all know I am, so really, why worry?), e imagery and your verbage in general in this were absolutely terriffic. I mean, it actually seemed to me for a second that I was there, or remembered being there, or something, just from the way you described it.
Have you been reading books on how to write minimalism? This seemed like you maybe had. But I mean that in a good way.
Submitted by alfakyle (user info) at 2005-07-10 17:56:39 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I read it twice. Fabulous.
Submitted by rad1101 (user info) at 2005-07-10 17:48:41 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
jabberwocky zeeblebrox garglefish.
Submitted by Snark (user info) at 2005-07-10 17:01:32 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I love this. It's so great to have you back and posting again.
Submitted by munkeypants (user info) at 2005-07-10 16:18:16 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by CookieLass (user info) at 2005-07-10 13:08:24 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I hate when people comment with "No Comment" but I don't really have anything I can say, so... "No Comment"
Submitted by iradney (user info) at 2005-07-10 12:27:33 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
made my eyes all blurry
Submitted by girlintheworld (user info) at 2005-07-10 12:19:46 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Leaves a lot of questions, but written awesomely enough so that I really shouldn't care.
Submitted by Viciousriffs (user info) at 2005-07-10 11:18:50 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Extremely good. Not enough of this around anymore.
Submitted by crazybutsolazy (user info) at 2005-07-10 11:17:14 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I'm still moved........
Submitted by Siren (user info) at 2005-07-10 10:42:45 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
This was excellent.
Submitted by c1ndy (user info) at 2005-07-10 10:26:56 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
great!
Submitted by Phallic_Cymbals (user info) at 2005-07-10 09:52:36 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
And here's you being all modest and shit. I'm gonna rip you a new ego, fucker.
Submitted by Shlongy (user info) at 2005-07-10 09:49:27 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
...where you want to...Roam around Circe's panties....woooooooaaaaaa...
Submitted by AlwaysAnEagle (user info) at 2005-07-10 09:45:39 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Christ.
Submitted by jimthefiend (user info) at 2005-07-10 09:42:30 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Pretty decent.
Submitted by thorpe (user info) at 2005-07-10 09:29:16 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I think so. The one about the kid who was a boxer.
Goodnight Ubersite.
Submitted by MANICMOTHER (user info) at 2005-07-10 09:27:56 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Great, as always.
Submitted by Circe (user info) at 2005-07-10 09:25:41 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Mike - thanks. Honest praise from you is always worth trying for.
Thorpe - was it "The Power of One"? That book was great.
Submitted by thorpe (user info) at 2005-07-10 09:17:58 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
That's good to hear. I still haven't gotten mine in the mail yet, but then again it's coming from England.
All I know about South Africa I learnt from that book, a Bryce Courtney novel and the Hansie Cronje bribery scandal.
Submitted by Bigmike (user info) at 2005-07-10 09:16:27 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Is that a B52's reference I see? If not, it's definitely the chick from that group that did the song. What's her name? Kate Pierson? I used to be in love with her.
This was great Lyn. It draws the reader in. Into a world of grief and pain. It leaves me with questions, but they are the kind of questions my imagination can answer in any number of ways. I wish you would do more of this.
Submitted by Circe (user info) at 2005-07-10 08:40:31 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Thorpe - the book is actually really good... I was prepared for it to suck, but it's great. Thank you!
Submitted by thorpe (user info) at 2005-07-10 08:37:01 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I'm fucked in UberMadness. Everybody realises this, right?