Forgotten
[I've been thinking about this one for a while now. I don't know if i should keep just the ending or keep the whole thing. Or maybe rewrite each interaction, maybe something a bit more symbolic in each one. but this is the way i originally wrote it, and i believe that the first way is always the best, so for now, its staying like this.]
he stands on the beach, in a hooded sweatshirt. his mind is somehwere distant as he stares out over the water, gold with the setting sun. being here is the next best thing. he shivers with the cold wind, and turns his back to it and walks back down the beach.
the girl lying on the sand moans slightly and shades her face with her hand. he blinks her eyes, trying to clear the rough particles of sand from them. she gives the boy a dirty look as he accidently kicks more sand on her blanket. briefly annoyed, she says nothing, but grudgingly goes back to reading.
he gets back into his car. throwing the blank camera aside, he pasues for a moment and tries to stifle the tension in the back of his through. trapped scream, it feels like. he doesnt know where its coming from. its something to do with happiness, but he lacks the energy to think about it. the simplicity of apathy.
a woman holding a baby shifts the weight into one arm to lift the free hand into a specific gesture, as the car speeds by. it kicks up gravel stones, forcefully removes them from their peaceful rest, and flings them with apparent vengeace at the loving mom and her baby son. but neither car nor boy seems to notice her. and neither seems to care.
two hours later, he arrives in another parking lot. a fisherman briefly takes notice. he sees the boy inside put the car in park, but the engine stays on. the boy doesnt move inisde the car. the fisherman feels a tug on the line, his dinner, and starts turning the reel.
he puts the car in park but doesnt turn it off. he hesitates for a minute, staring in the direction of the floor, but at nothing in particular. his hand slips from the ignition and falls into his lap. he feels his phone through his pocket and conisders calling. but the fabric provides a barrier too distant and thick to navigate. he forgets.
a policeman from across the street stops radaring traffic and watches the newly arrived car in the beach parking lot. he is ready to drive over and investigate, as the boy is still in the car. but then the lights go off, and the engine groans to a halt, and the door opens. a hooded figure steps out and stretches. it pauses, then slowly walks around the fence and onto the empty beach. a car speeds by and officer turns his car on, flips on the lights, and pulls out behind it. the boy is forgotten.
the fisherman again notices the boy walking past him, quitely, ghost like. he cannot hear his breathing nor his feet on the sand. he cannot see his face, or feature to suggest he is anything more than cloth. a quick thought glides through his mind, about the purpose of the boy's trip, and the fishermna reflexivly smiles, although he knows it will not be seen. the fisherman goes back to his fishing after the brief deviation.
the boy reaches the end of the beach. alone, he stifles the urge to scream thats built up in his throat like a cancer. he knows not where it came from, maybe just from being sick of it. he remembers that he locked his keys in the car. he doesnt care, he wont be needing them for a while longer. he sits down on the cold sand. the ocean whispers to him in languages he understands all too well, but cannot translate, and he cannot reply, try tho he may.
he lays on his back tries to forget himself. he lies there, and time stands still. his mind wanders to the past days, weeks, months, then stops wandering. his fingers feel the cold sand, and his face the cold wind. but then he stops feeling and just lies there. the clouds drift over head, temporarily blocking the single staring eye of the watchful moon, but his gaze shifts to the ocean. he tries to dissolve into the waves and into the sand and become part of it. he loses his humanity, and his wholeness. he feels each grain of his now dissolved body being pulled in a different direction by wind and water. he doesnt try to remember himself as he used to be. he doesnt try to remember himself at all. he just lies there, and falls apart, as the world continues to go round. no one will ever have to know, that is the beauty of this place, he thinks. he is gone, forgotten, he has been glimpsed and forgotten.
the world is so oblivious.
he stands on the beach, in a hooded sweatshirt. his mind is somehwere distant as he stares out over the water, gold with the setting sun. being here is the next best thing. he shivers with the cold wind, and turns his back to it and walks back down the beach.
the girl lying on the sand moans slightly and shades her face with her hand. he blinks her eyes, trying to clear the rough particles of sand from them. she gives the boy a dirty look as he accidently kicks more sand on her blanket. briefly annoyed, she says nothing, but grudgingly goes back to reading.
he gets back into his car. throwing the blank camera aside, he pasues for a moment and tries to stifle the tension in the back of his through. trapped scream, it feels like. he doesnt know where its coming from. its something to do with happiness, but he lacks the energy to think about it. the simplicity of apathy.
a woman holding a baby shifts the weight into one arm to lift the free hand into a specific gesture, as the car speeds by. it kicks up gravel stones, forcefully removes them from their peaceful rest, and flings them with apparent vengeace at the loving mom and her baby son. but neither car nor boy seems to notice her. and neither seems to care.
two hours later, he arrives in another parking lot. a fisherman briefly takes notice. he sees the boy inside put the car in park, but the engine stays on. the boy doesnt move inisde the car. the fisherman feels a tug on the line, his dinner, and starts turning the reel.
he puts the car in park but doesnt turn it off. he hesitates for a minute, staring in the direction of the floor, but at nothing in particular. his hand slips from the ignition and falls into his lap. he feels his phone through his pocket and conisders calling. but the fabric provides a barrier too distant and thick to navigate. he forgets.
a policeman from across the street stops radaring traffic and watches the newly arrived car in the beach parking lot. he is ready to drive over and investigate, as the boy is still in the car. but then the lights go off, and the engine groans to a halt, and the door opens. a hooded figure steps out and stretches. it pauses, then slowly walks around the fence and onto the empty beach. a car speeds by and officer turns his car on, flips on the lights, and pulls out behind it. the boy is forgotten.
the fisherman again notices the boy walking past him, quitely, ghost like. he cannot hear his breathing nor his feet on the sand. he cannot see his face, or feature to suggest he is anything more than cloth. a quick thought glides through his mind, about the purpose of the boy's trip, and the fishermna reflexivly smiles, although he knows it will not be seen. the fisherman goes back to his fishing after the brief deviation.
the boy reaches the end of the beach. alone, he stifles the urge to scream thats built up in his throat like a cancer. he knows not where it came from, maybe just from being sick of it. he remembers that he locked his keys in the car. he doesnt care, he wont be needing them for a while longer. he sits down on the cold sand. the ocean whispers to him in languages he understands all too well, but cannot translate, and he cannot reply, try tho he may.
he lays on his back tries to forget himself. he lies there, and time stands still. his mind wanders to the past days, weeks, months, then stops wandering. his fingers feel the cold sand, and his face the cold wind. but then he stops feeling and just lies there. the clouds drift over head, temporarily blocking the single staring eye of the watchful moon, but his gaze shifts to the ocean. he tries to dissolve into the waves and into the sand and become part of it. he loses his humanity, and his wholeness. he feels each grain of his now dissolved body being pulled in a different direction by wind and water. he doesnt try to remember himself as he used to be. he doesnt try to remember himself at all. he just lies there, and falls apart, as the world continues to go round. no one will ever have to know, that is the beauty of this place, he thinks. he is gone, forgotten, he has been glimpsed and forgotten.
the world is so oblivious.
posted by Derek at 1:25 PM
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