These Are Only Words
8 pages
English

These Are Only Words

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8 pages
English
Le téléchargement nécessite un accès à la bibliothèque YouScribe
Tout savoir sur nos offres

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TAOW Pages 12/10/05 9:27 am Page 1+ + + + + + + + + +THESE ARE ONLY WORDS+ + + + + + + + + +SIMON R.BIGGAMTAOW Pages 12/10/05 9:27 am Page 2PART ONE+ + + + + + + + + +DEVELOPING+ + + + + + + + + +TAOW Pages 12/10/05 9:27 am Page 3THESE ARE ONLY WORDS 3It is still.The ball hangs in the air.Yellow and red against a blue, blue sky.Peter is jumping for the ball.Sand trails through the air from the beach to his bare feet.He is tanned. He is muscled.He wears sunglasses held on with an elastic strap.He takes every opportunity to show his body off to his friends.John is sitting on a lounger.He squints in the sun. He is wearing a baggy T-shirt.His face sunburn red.He hides his white flabby flesh from his friends.He must hate Peter’s muscle hugging bronze skin. He must.+ Wendy is running towards Peter.She wants the ball. She is always competing with him.Matching pink bikini. She is as sun kissed as Peter.She has a perfect body.Tight. Trim. Athletic.+ Perfect breasts.She is no prude – she goes topless when she can. Brian is kneeling beside Abby.He is rubbing cream on to her back.A fold in the towel hides her face.Brian loves Abby. She thinks of him as a friend. They have slept together.Stephen is playing with the ball too.He is tanned, he is fit, he is just like Peter.He wears tight trunks, when the others all wear baggy shorts. He likes leaving nothing to the imagination.This is what she sees.This is a frozen moment.TAOW Pages 12 ...

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Publié par
Nombre de lectures 37
Langue English

Extrait

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S I M O N R . B I G G A M
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P A R T O N E
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T H E S E A R E O N L Y W O R D S 3
It is still. The ball hangs in the air. Yellow and red against a blue, blue sky. Peter is jumping for the ball. Sand trails through the air from the beach to his bare feet. He is tanned. He is muscled. He wears sunglasses held on with an elastic strap. He takes every opportunity to show his body off to his friends. John is sitting on a lounger. He squints in the sun. He is wearing a baggy T-shirt. His face sunburn red. He hides his white flabby flesh from his friends. He must hate Peter’s muscle hugging bronze skin. He must. Wendy is running towards Peter. She wants the ball. She is always competing with him. Matching pink bikini. She is as sun kissed as Peter. She has a perfect body. Tight. Trim. Athletic. Perfect breasts. She is no prude – she goes topless when she can. Brian is kneeling beside Abby. He is rubbing cream on to her back. A fold in the towel hides her face. Brian loves Abby. She thinks of him as a friend. They have slept together. Stephen is playing with the ball too. He is tanned, he is fit, he is just like Peter. He wears tight trunks, when the others all wear baggy shorts. He likes leaving nothing to the imagination. This is what she sees. This is a frozen moment.
4 T H E S E A R E O N L Y W O R D S
E X P O S U R E
Every few moments I glance at the minute hand of the clock above the tills and the second hand of my watch. I can hardly believe it but I have managed to endure a morning of torturous waiting. I can’t stop thinking about seeing Sarah. Kissing and touching. Making up for these long days and nights apart. I am counting the seconds until she is here. I have to see her. I need to see her. I feel like a schoolboy on the promise of his first kiss just after the four o’clock bell.
12.05 and 16 seconds I have artfully distracted myself for a couple of hours making small talk with colleagues and customers, pouring over prints and planning my afternoon. I’ve worked hard to keep my excitement in check and it has almost worked. But I’m still feeling that buzz you get before something exciting happens.
12.06 and 2 seconds I work on what is usually called the pharmacy floor. You know the kind of thing - ointments and lotions, condoms and hair products. But the section that I really work in is the photographic one. That sounds quite fancy. Me sharing my huge knowledge of cameras and photography with e ager customers. But the reality is that I just develop your snappy snaps. What would you like - one-hour service or overnight service? Sorry, it has to be dropped off before four. What size of prints would you like? I can make your print into a jigsaw or tablemats or coasters -or put it on to a mug, if you like. I am so versatile.
12.07 and 14 seconds She takes lunch at around noon every day. If she’s punctual, she’ll leave her office at two minutes past twelve. I can make it up to her office in a few minutes if I jog so I’m estimating it’ll take her about ten minutes. Sometimes, she’ll stop upstairs to buy a sandwich but, today, I’m pret-ty sure she’ll c ome straight down to see me first. She’ll have lots of goodies for me.
T H E S E A R E O N L Y W O R D S 5
Plastic curtain. Water in rivulets on the surface. Smooth skin. She is bending over. The curve of her breast. Half turned away. She is trying to cover herself. She is not quick enough. Water hangs in the air. One arm trying to cover her breasts. Tattoo of a bird near the small of her back. One leg lifting and bending slightly to hide between her legs. Breast. Nipple. Buttock. Back. Legs. Face. Water. Look of shock and surprise. You can almost hear her shout of annoyance. Naked. This is a f rozen moment.
12.08 and 10 seconds Four or five minutes until I see her. Two weeks away from me. It has felt much longer. We’ll have a quick catch up over lunch, have a laugh, hopefully a smooch, then dream our afternoons away thinking about what we’ll get up to tonight. It has only been a few months but I’m completely smitten.
12.09 and 17 seconds I’m s till at the developing machine and I really need to be front and centre at the tills so she’ll find me easily. I stop what I’m doing and head over to Anne. She’s with a customer and I wait until she finishes. I just hate the kind of customer service you get it in most places - being made to feel that you are in the wrong for daring to interrupt a staff conversation about what is happening at the weekend or who is sleep-ing with whom. I tell Anne,I’ve finished all the pending print jobs so I can take over your till for a while. Euan will be back from his break in a couple of minutes if we get busy. She is relieved at my offer - typical manager preferring to wander about looking important rather than slum it at a till point. She leaves quickly,
6 T H E S E A R E O N L Y W O R D S
nice comfy office to go to, far away from customers. Stand and wait.
12.10 and 45 seconds I’m willing her to come now. I stare at every customer as they glide into the basement, escalator smooth. My eyes burn through them into the person behind. Not her. Not her. Not her. Too early anyway. Can’t stop myself. I yearn to see her. I ache to touch her. Not her. Not her. Not her. Just a sea of unfamiliar faces - not her green eyes, not her strawberry-blonde hair, not her freckles, not her dimples. Oh, hurry up.
12.11 and 25 seconds There she is. My heart is in my throat. I’m trembling. Control yourself. She is early. Well, of course she is - she is just as eager to be with me as I am to be with her. We’re a perfect fit. She looks so beautiful. I realise just how much I’ve been missing her when I see that face. Those lips touching mine. It becomes a movie. She’s walking in slow motion - her skirt billows about her perfect legs as she nears. Cut to close-up on my face, eyes widen. Cut to her smile as she sees me. Roeg cut to skin pressed against skin. Cut to my returned smile. Cut to her flicking her hair. Roeg cut to tongue on skin. She reaches the counter. She leans over it and pulls me towards her, lips meet. Roeg cut to shuddering climax. She pulls back. I’ve missed you. Then the crowds fade to black, just Tony and Maria seeing each other across the dance floor. We’re all that’s important. Fuck. A problem. Customer heading towards me. If I serve this person, then I might get caught up. Sarah might get bored and not want to wait. Can’t afford to miss her. I make pretence of dropping my pen and disappear behind the counter. I wait for a couple of moments, taking calming breaths, willing things to go my way for once. Please. Please. Go away. Let me be free for Sarah. Can’t s tay down any longer. I steel myself for disappointment and straighten. Thank you. The customer, faced with an empty space, has turned and headed towards another till. It is going to work out. Beauty still coming towards me. She hasn’t caught my eye yet and I’m living for that look, for the spark to jump between us, for the sweetest smile ever known. Lunch, coffee shop, maybe just a walk. She’ll tell me about her holiday, all the fun she had.Have you missed me?She looks as if I have
T H E S E A R E O N L Y W O R D S 7
asked an outrageous question.Of course I missed you, silly. I love being with you. I can’t imagine my life without you. I love you deeply.The jealousy I feel towards the friends she went with melts under those words. We’ll meet again after work. We’ll go for a drink. We’ll see a movie. We’ll go for a meal. No, we’ll go directly to her flat, make up for all those lonely nights. I take her hand, inhale her fragrance, her voice trickles into my ear. She holds me close, her warmth against my chest, breath on my neck, lips close. Smooth skin, green-green eyes, hair bleached by the sun. She kisses me. Soft. Warm. She looks into my eyes. I pull her shirt from her shoulder. She is almost at the till. I half turn away so that she’ll think she’s surprised me - a silly joke but she’ll love it. She loves my sense of humour, the little games couples play. I close my eyes and wait for the words I long to hear. Excuse me? I turn as if I didn’t think anyone was there. Her smile shines, tiny wrinkles at the sides of her eyes. You only see them with a genuine smile. Yes, can I help you?We tease each other. I’d like to put these in for a one-hour service.Words I’ve been dreaming about for days, this moment rehearsed over and over. I knew she wouldn’t be able to wait until tomorrow to get the photographs back. Of course. I hold out my hands and she places seven rolls of film in them. Her fingertips brush against my palm. The touch goes straight to my heart. Is there any chance you could do them quickly? I need to be back at work in less than an hour. She should know I would do anything for her. That’ll be no problem. Interaction between us. I love this. I’ll make use of this opportunity to start a conversation. Have you been on holiday?I ask innocently. She gives me a ‘How did you know that?’ look. Tanned face and shoulders, health and vigour just pouring from her. But that tan - oh, that tan. Not the orange hue of the girls at the cosmetics counters but a real tan on skin that takes it well. No sign of bikini strap lines at her shoulders. Topless bathing. Thong swimming costume. She likes to be golden all over. I could faint. She just reeks of sunshine and sea. Oh, I just guessed,I shrug at her. She smiles back realising that her body gives it away.I’ve been to Lanzarote with some friends. I put her films on the counter. Seven rolls. She must have had a great time. Wanted to record every minute of it. So many glorious photos in front of me, burned on to negative. Two hundred and fifty-two
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photographs of her and her friends. Eight-by-five prints. Ten thousand and eighty square inches of images. So much to look at, so much to explore. Details and clues. That is a lot of photographs,I say. She nods and smiles in a ‘You know me!’ sort of a way and my heart flutters. I love that she is so familiar with me. I love that she recognises me from before. I start to write on the pad of envelopes that we put the undeveloped rolls in.One-hour service.I check my watch and say,I’ll try and make sure they are done by ten to. She smiles at me. I’m lost in that face. I start to fill in her details automatically. Name:Sarah Bennett. Address: leave it blank as normal. Wave of nausea hits my stomach, grips it tightly - I can feel the panic rising in me. What the hell am I doing? How can I be so stupid? She has noticed what I am writing and she is looking confused. I stumble and mumble through some words that sound like I’ve got a good memory for names. I suppose I’m a bit of a regular,she says. Stupid. Stupid. What an idiot mistake to make. She is still looking at me. I’m going red. She’s going to suspect. She’ll find out about me and make a complaint. She’s going to guess. I know it. I mumble some more,You don’t need to wait for this - I’ll fill in the rest.I tear off the receipt section from each one then hand them over. She turns away. Stupid. Stupid. Should keep my stupid mouth shut. Need to think before I do or say anything. I’d rehearsed this moment so much, had been waiting to see her for so long, that I lost focus on the details, got caught up in the moment. There is no excuse for such a sloppy mistake. I’m annoyed with myself. Stupidity has cut short my time with her. Just think what we would have said to each other. She might have flirted with me. I could have asked her out for a coffee. We could have become friends - maybe more. Any prospect of that happening today is heading with her to the escalators. But even the sight of her retreating makes me feel good. I’ll be content for another day. She stops to look at some perfumed soaps. She lifts them up and inhales scents - rose and cinnamon, apricot and lime. Then she is gone.
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