Jewellery & Watches
They are not close. And yet, they sit very close to each other.
“What is the time?”
“How should I know?”
“Why are you so vain?”
“I am not vain, I’m just extremely vacuous.”
“Is that why you’re smiling? How does one become extremely vacuous?”
“I see you’re listening.”
They smile, baring teeth.
Gifts, Gadgets & Hobbies
They don’t know me, they have never known me, she thinks. She bites a nail into bits, crunching it with her incisors. She swallows the bits of nail and looks at the jagged, wet edge on the tip of her finger. To her side is a box. In the box there are various objects, a helmet that looks like it is in the shape of hair from Robotech is most visible, all that’s left from the five riding lessons she took last year. Her hand brushes an unpanelled section of the attic floor, a soft yellow-cloud-like material. She rubs her hand, superstitiously, feeling it itch. She pulls up the ladder, then the door. Then she turns the light off.
Kitchen & Laundry
Denim dungarees on his Christmas list, wanting to look like Mario. He is a monster now. He is an advert for washing powder. He does not care one iota for me, my health, or any emotional issues I may have. He is ferocious and brutal. Most of my time is spent trying not to wake the monster dressed in denim dungarees, and yet I cannot do anything without waking him. So I do nothing. I make him food, but he is not grateful.
Home & Furniture
She sips coffee – instant granules, hot water, milk, brown sugar – at the kitchen table. It has been raining for most of the morning, but that suits her fine. She had nothing planned. The washing machine has been turning for a while now. All of this is comfortable to her, the rain, the washing, the coffee. She lifts a foot up and tucks it under her bottom. She has not even bothered to check her answer phone today.
Sports & Leisure
“Grandchildren are great, you can give them back afterwards.” he remembers an uncle writing in a Christmas newsletter once. How long ago was that now? He would like to write to his long dead uncle: “When does giving become spoiling?” He has more questions like this stored away, an escritoire in some cob-webbed corner of his brain. The unanswerable. I know there is no such thing as romantic love, he thinks, but there is romance and there is love and somewhere they most cross over and spill into each other. Perhaps they cancel each other out.
When assembling the table-hockey table he troubleshoots the term “Romantic Love” because he know it will return no results.
Health & Personal Care
She gets in from work and has a shower. She ties her hair up before having a shower and only washes her fringe with shampoo and conditioner. She shaves her armpits and half her left leg before getting bored and stopping. The water has washed away all the dry sweat that has accumulated on her skin throughout the day and is now washing away fresh sweat caused by the heat of the water and the size of the shower cubicle. She turns off the shower and gets out, wrapping herself in a towel as she stands in front of the steamed mirror. She wipes her hand across the glass, but where she wipes quickly steams up again. She opens the door to let some fresh air in and feels it catch on the droplets of water she has missed when drying herself. She wipes the mirror again, this time with a bit more success. She looks at a small red mark by the corner of her right nostril, a fresh spot buried deep under the skin. She blames her diet and tells herself to eat healthier food. She shakes out some of the water from her fringe with the tips of her fingers, separating the hairs. She ties the towel just above her breasts and walks back to her bedroom where she will spray herself with deodorant and sit for a while in her underwear before getting dressed and straightening her hair.
Technology, Computers & Office
It has gotten dark
I haven't turned on any lights
just this, staring back.
Making a Bluetooth connection feels archaic.
Baby & Nursery
We had discussed names, sex, quantity etc,. Talked about, mythologized, it was like they already existed somewhere, in our shared imagination, between the lines traced by my phone up to a satellite in space and then back down to yours. But, of course, if it had come into being at the time it would have been aborted.
Toys & Gaming
Alan is 9 years old. He is waiting for his weekly chess lesson to start. He is the best chess player in his school, and only once has the teacher managed to ‘check’ him. Both acted graciously after the match, but as his mother drove him home from the chess lesson, Alan burst into tears. His mother asked if anyone had picked on him or called him names, but Alan could not muster a reply through the sobs.
The chess lessons take place after school in classroom 4b. While Alan waits for the others to arrive he and the chess teacher, Mrs Crab, take out the chess boards and arrange the tables and chairs. People pair up as they come in. Alan watches them, one by one they take their seats, avoiding him, until the last person runs in late, dismayed with who he has to play.
They are not close. And yet, they sit very close to each other.
“What is the time?”
“How should I know?”
“Why are you so vain?”
“I am not vain, I’m just extremely vacuous.”
“Is that why you’re smiling? How does one become extremely vacuous?”
“I see you’re listening.”
They smile, baring teeth.
Gifts, Gadgets & Hobbies
They don’t know me, they have never known me, she thinks. She bites a nail into bits, crunching it with her incisors. She swallows the bits of nail and looks at the jagged, wet edge on the tip of her finger. To her side is a box. In the box there are various objects, a helmet that looks like it is in the shape of hair from Robotech is most visible, all that’s left from the five riding lessons she took last year. Her hand brushes an unpanelled section of the attic floor, a soft yellow-cloud-like material. She rubs her hand, superstitiously, feeling it itch. She pulls up the ladder, then the door. Then she turns the light off.
Kitchen & Laundry
Denim dungarees on his Christmas list, wanting to look like Mario. He is a monster now. He is an advert for washing powder. He does not care one iota for me, my health, or any emotional issues I may have. He is ferocious and brutal. Most of my time is spent trying not to wake the monster dressed in denim dungarees, and yet I cannot do anything without waking him. So I do nothing. I make him food, but he is not grateful.
Home & Furniture
She sips coffee – instant granules, hot water, milk, brown sugar – at the kitchen table. It has been raining for most of the morning, but that suits her fine. She had nothing planned. The washing machine has been turning for a while now. All of this is comfortable to her, the rain, the washing, the coffee. She lifts a foot up and tucks it under her bottom. She has not even bothered to check her answer phone today.
Sports & Leisure
“Grandchildren are great, you can give them back afterwards.” he remembers an uncle writing in a Christmas newsletter once. How long ago was that now? He would like to write to his long dead uncle: “When does giving become spoiling?” He has more questions like this stored away, an escritoire in some cob-webbed corner of his brain. The unanswerable. I know there is no such thing as romantic love, he thinks, but there is romance and there is love and somewhere they most cross over and spill into each other. Perhaps they cancel each other out.
When assembling the table-hockey table he troubleshoots the term “Romantic Love” because he know it will return no results.
Health & Personal Care
She gets in from work and has a shower. She ties her hair up before having a shower and only washes her fringe with shampoo and conditioner. She shaves her armpits and half her left leg before getting bored and stopping. The water has washed away all the dry sweat that has accumulated on her skin throughout the day and is now washing away fresh sweat caused by the heat of the water and the size of the shower cubicle. She turns off the shower and gets out, wrapping herself in a towel as she stands in front of the steamed mirror. She wipes her hand across the glass, but where she wipes quickly steams up again. She opens the door to let some fresh air in and feels it catch on the droplets of water she has missed when drying herself. She wipes the mirror again, this time with a bit more success. She looks at a small red mark by the corner of her right nostril, a fresh spot buried deep under the skin. She blames her diet and tells herself to eat healthier food. She shakes out some of the water from her fringe with the tips of her fingers, separating the hairs. She ties the towel just above her breasts and walks back to her bedroom where she will spray herself with deodorant and sit for a while in her underwear before getting dressed and straightening her hair.
Technology, Computers & Office
It has gotten dark
I haven't turned on any lights
just this, staring back.
Making a Bluetooth connection feels archaic.
Baby & Nursery
We had discussed names, sex, quantity etc,. Talked about, mythologized, it was like they already existed somewhere, in our shared imagination, between the lines traced by my phone up to a satellite in space and then back down to yours. But, of course, if it had come into being at the time it would have been aborted.
Toys & Gaming
Alan is 9 years old. He is waiting for his weekly chess lesson to start. He is the best chess player in his school, and only once has the teacher managed to ‘check’ him. Both acted graciously after the match, but as his mother drove him home from the chess lesson, Alan burst into tears. His mother asked if anyone had picked on him or called him names, but Alan could not muster a reply through the sobs.
The chess lessons take place after school in classroom 4b. While Alan waits for the others to arrive he and the chess teacher, Mrs Crab, take out the chess boards and arrange the tables and chairs. People pair up as they come in. Alan watches them, one by one they take their seats, avoiding him, until the last person runs in late, dismayed with who he has to play.
