Sunday, December 14, 2008

Two Short Stories - Shnei Sipurim Ketzarim

Well that's a surprise - where are these stories? here at least is a title for a short story which has yet to be written, which concerns the Sydney bridge and the subtle things between him and her. Its called "Panic Attacks are a Pain in the Bum".
I'm sitting at my computer. I'm supposed to be working but instead I've given in and gone to a porn site, and am busy searching for clips with the tag “anal sex”, when my mobile rings. I quickly tun off the loudspeakers and answer.

"Greenhill Graphics", I answer in my business voice.
"I can't do this" says my wife.
"Just breathe" I say, "inhale and exhale."
Its no good, she says, I 'll have to pull over.
You were fine the other day, I say, you made it across fine.
Help she says, help me
Calm down I say, just calm down
Oh my G-d she says
Everything is fine, I tell her, its just a road like any other road, all you have to do is drive straight. I'll talk you through it the entire way. Just keep driving in the lane you're in and keep speaking to me and everything will be ok.
I have to pull over she says, help....
OK then pull over
I can't ...there's nowhere to stop.
Then keep driving...
Allright she says, I'm across now. Thanks.
She hangs up.
When did you shower last, she says, waving her hand in front of my her nose. The washing needs hanging up. And rember to get to school on time. The girls hate to be kept waiting. And take them something to drink.
When you get married you don't just marry your wife. You also marry your wife's parents. I did borrow a bit of money from them. Just so that I could finish my degree
That night I put my hand on her arm.
Not now, she says, I'm about to fall asleep.
I helped you across the bridge, I say.
Tomorrow she says, maybe tomorrow
I stroke her arm
Please, she says, I need to go to sleep.
Slowly, relunctantly, angrily, I withdraw my arm.
I curl myself up into a foetus like ball. My back turned to her, radiating hurt and anger and rejection.
She begins to snore.
Crossing bridghes is a pain in the bum.

Here's the beginning of the second one.

At exactly 12:40 Ruben pulled over and parked the taxi in a loading zone. Making sure no rangers were in sight, he crossed the road and went into Luigi’s.
The usual asked the blonde haired girl with the mole on her left forearm.
yes please said Ruben He
He kept an eye on the other side of the street until his sandwhich was ready. She handed it to him in a brown paper bag together with a paper serviette.
He paid and crossed back to his taxi. He drove down Riley street until he came to Commonwealth park. Today was his lucky day – a woman was just leaving a parking space! He took his keys and cellphone and smokes from the car, and strolled across to a bench in the shade of a large wild fig tree.
With a sigh he sat down and lent back into the bench. He glanced at his watch. He’d give himself 20 minutes, then get back on the road. He closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them he discovered a large black bird, like a crow, had hopped onto the other end of the bench, and was curiously eyeing the brown bag in his hand.
Shoo said Ruben
The bird did not move, except to cock its head to one side as if to listen to Ruben better.
Go away said Ruben. He bent to pick up a twig to throw at the bird. He threw it and the bird flapped off with an alarmed caw.
Ruben relaxed back again and slowly and methodically opened the paper bag. He withdrew the sandwich wrapped in waxed paper and, so as not to lessen the pleasure, slowly opened that as well. The sandwich lay inside, two large slices of sourdough bread with a crisp, flour dusted crust.
He raised the sandwich to take a bite. The bird flapped down and settled on the bench again, a little closer.
I’m warning you, said Ruben.

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