Sinister: the best looking boys are taken..

[ian]

-------------------------------------------

She wouldn't look back.  Ahead of her was the future, and, having a future,
it seemed churlish to ignore it.
She fumbled in her pockets for a cigarette, lifting it to her mouth and
leaving it there.  She didn't like to smoke, but she liked the reassurance,
and the solidity, and the fact that it wouldn't clear off the next morning,
leaving her with only her dreams.

Such dreams.  She often thought it was those that marked her out - a Strange
One, the mothers said.  What the kids said was less kind, but she was
learning not to expect kindness from people.  Or, not from these people
anyway.  Perhaps someone, somewhere, far away..

Just in time, she jumped back from the kerb as, under the wheels of a
passing bus, a puddle became a fountain.  She glared at the driver as he
laughed, and she thought of the boy at school who dreamed of being a bus
driver and, even now, spent all his days sitting on the back of a number 11,
going round and round, in a never-decreasing circle.
She thought of his eyes, and his mouth and she thought that she should never
have showed him her song.  Boys were useless at keeping quiet.  And yet this
one felt different, warmer, softer.

Less like a boy.
But, yet, not quite like a girl either.

Above her, the streetlamp flickered.  The rest were broken: children -
younger than her - and stones, or bricks, or bottles.  Everyone was hard,
everyone was untouchable and frightening and protected against everybody
else.  She would leave them behind.

She would.




Except him, perhaps.  She tried to think of other things but he kept coming
back:

'Judy... I don't know you'

Oh, but he did.  Better than anyone.  She already felt like she'd shown him
everything, but it was only a song, a stupid song.  It meant nothing, just
like all the thoughts in her head.  The thoughts that the tablets were
supposed to stop.

Except...she hadn't taken them.  She reached in her pockets and fingered
one, and left it there.  It was tempting, but it felt too easy, too
unbelievable.  If it was going to work, it had to be harder than that.

Her secret.  She'd go to the doctor's and she'd tell them how well she was
doing, how calm she felt these days and how the dreams didn't trouble her
any more and -

How could he say he didn't know her?

What did he want?  It was so easy to tell with the other boys.

She'd had that, the other boys.  That was the past.  Ahead was the future.
She kept telling herself this, and hoped that at some point she'd be able to
believe it.

Past the posh houses on the corner where the new girl lived: tall and
elegant and already widely loved  She considered stopping by, and saying
hello, just to see the shock on the face of her prospective host.

But no... the next morning... all around the school:  ' I don't know.  She
was just standing there on my doorstep, looking at me as if she thought I
was going to ask her IN'...
No.  She didn't need that.  She didn't need them.  Let them stay inside,
she'd rather be alone.

Ahead, a light gleamed faintly behind trees.  Saint Theresa's - the
churchyard looked safe and forgiving, but she knew better and kept walking.
She still remembered the day she'd found herself outside, pulling
frantically at the door handle, crying, and knowing inside that it had to be
locked.  These things were always locked.

She lit the cigarette, fought the urge to retch as the smoke hit the back of
her throat, and put it out again.  She didn't know why she liked to pretend.

They said she shouldn't think the things she did.  Not at her age.  The
dreams had to stop.  She didn't tell them they'd got the dreams all wrong.

Tomorrow, she would talk to him.  She didn't know what she was going to say,
but she would tell him.  And, if he had nothing to say to her in return,
she'd give up on the books and learning and she would catch the first train
heading North.

Or South.

'London....yeah, London'

'SQUAWK!  LONDON....YEAH LONDON!'

Silently, she cursed the parrot on her shoulder.  She wished she knew where
it had come from.

The star above lit the way as she walked.  She wouldn't look back.

Ahead of her was the future.

----------------------------------------------





that may or may not appear in friends of the heroes at some point.  i'm
anticipating SO MANY responses from you lot to that mail i sent yesterday
that we won't have room for it.
just one response would be nice... you're probably all busy with lives, and
such.


i have just been unfortunate enough to catch five minutes of pop idol.  i
went to shut the door because i couldn't concentrate with the television on
in the next room and my attention was caught by the fact that a contestant
was singing the beautiful stevie wonder song 'knocks me off my feet'.
  he was criticised for picking a song that wouldn't be known by those
watching and wasn't a 'proper' pop song.  two of the judges practically
admitted they hadn't heard of it.  the other two thought it lacked
personality.  which says a lot about them.

perhaps its a little too simplistic to say that mainstream pop music has
gone down the shitter because its controlled by people who have never
listened to stevie wonder.

but, fuck it, i'm going to say it anyway.

mainstream pop music has gone down the shitter because its controlled by
people who have never listened to stevie wonder.

there, i said it again.  that makes it DOUBLY TRUE!

have nice evenings, or weekends, if you live to the west, and still have
some left.

i do love you, yknow

xx
ian

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