The Customer – internal monologue of a deranged mind. : excerpt

-


            The news came on, a jumble of facts so sad that they all started to lose their meaning, a disaster here, a war there, a famine on the way, rapes, murders and political corruption, I had to turn it off. It took meaning away from my life.
If I thought about the world I became infinitesimal in having any effect on it, so I stopped listening, I stopped watching, I stopped waiting for something to happen where I might be involved in the calamity that went on around me. That's when I realised I am but an ant. But it didn't matter that that was all I was, as to me I was the biggest ant in my little world. To everything else around me, I became quite deaf. That's when I put the Iron through the Television set. 
It's still there. 
Afterwards, I just sat and looked at it, realising the error in my action.



How was I going to iron my clothes?


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Wellington On A Plate / 30 upstairs Gallery Event

-
Image
In 2016 I was invited down to cook for 'Wellington On A Plate.'  Wellingtons yearly food festival. Short works of my fiction added to the event. I created banquets for the  second week of the festival  in 30 Upstairs Art Gallery  Courtney Place Wellington, Lamb smoker hanging out the window, hotplate on a shelf, all without a kitchen.    A Cook A Gallery A Painting A Feast The Event ran over a week with diners enjoying banquet meals  each night presented as 'Art Cuisine' in their own right.  I was asked to base it all on Abby Meakin's still life painting  which hung in the Gallery behind the Diners. The Middle Course was served on long banquet boards,  each person received a scroll of my short fiction and poetry  to indulge in and converse over. This Dessert the finale of the night was Audible. Wasabi and Coconut Panne Cotta  Ginger Soil / Lemongrass Jelly Yuzu flakes / Lychee popping Candy. Hann
Read more

The Sound / Voom - Neck of the Woods : A backstory.

-
Image
--> For the right reasons. The Sound / Voom: Neck of the Woods. A back story. In the 80’s, The Sound was played at every party I went to. Friends’ bands covered the songs, felt them. The lyrics echoed our own struggles. Unbeknown to us, they were coming from much heavier personnel struggles the singer on the other side of the world was going through. We felt the power of his politics in ‘Missiles’, from the first Album Jeopardy. Post-cold-war-punked-up-England echoed our thoughts of growing stockpiles of nuclear weapons in a world going to hell. Down here we did our bit, waving antinuclear flags and protesting ships in our harbour. The Sound played music of an era, some songs lifted us up, and others stated how things were. “I can’t escape myself,” another hit from the album Jeopardy, spoke to me, as a teenager growing up and breaking out of a depressed South Auckland, of not being listened to - it fed on my teenage angst. The song builds up and sh
Read more

Senseless Night

-
Image
                                                                                       Craig sat on a park bench at the top of Arch hill waiting for the library to open. A mass of black hair hiding a large Polynesian man made its way up the steps towards him.   It had been ten years. From this angle, he couldn’t tell if it was him or not. With each step that the man-made, Craig’s breaths deepened. A vein on his neck poked out and pulsed with his quickening heart. Nature screamed aromas. Manuka trees were bursting into blossom subtlety juniper. Wild onions had taken over the hillside, colonizers pushing the natives out. Beyond the trees, car exhausts wafted up from the valley where the motorway cut through like a river, sounding like a sea. None of those scents Craig received, all he could smell was fear. Sione had grown up in Tonga where scents embraced. Seaweed baked in the tropical sun, its saltiness touching every surface. Whichever direction he walked, the sea was clos
Read more