the chimneys pumped their steam - the warm rain dissipated into a hot blanket of fog and at 7am it was time for me to go to work - i had showered the previous night's stench and regrets away and gotten dressed into my clothes - by the time i'd walked to the train station, my hair was wet and messy, i had stained myself with sweat, and i'd already eaten my lunch
i stood in a puddle of water and oil, waiting the four minutes for the train to arrive - i only had three more pages left of the book i was reading, but i wanted to save it until the train to arrived – so instead i just looked blankly at a random page, pretending to read, and minding my own business
everyone scrambled like life and death when the train pulled up at the platform - me, i stood back and waited till the crowds did what instinct told them and pushed and shoved themselves onto the carriage - if i was late for work, i didn't mind too much, but in the end there was enough room for me to slip on-board at the last moment - the doors closed and the slow tugging momentum of the train begun to build
since i've live alone for such a long time, i'd learned to enjoy watching and observing people - sitting with a beer or coffee somewhere by myself, sitting and watching the people move, walk, interact and live pointless little moments in their lives that will most likely be forgotten and not even recognised by anyone - not themselves, not those around them - but just me - a little no-body drinking a beer with a pen and paper
in front of me stood a middle aged woman with cement hair and thick woolen scarf - i could never understand how women could always look good in such drenched weather - in front of her stood a business man in a boring old suit - he carried a newspaper in his hands, the sports section - he was balding but had the type of face a bald head would suit - i caught him looking down the woman's top - for a middle aged woman she wasn't very attractive - but given the opportunity, i guess he couldn't help himself - what else was there to do?
the carriage was full of all different types of insect-like people going to work and squirming and mingling like a soggy ants nest - i held my breath for as long as possible - i noticed a young girl sitting a few heads to my left - an adorable twenty-something with light brown hair tied back in high pony tail - her face something of an insane beauty, something almost cruel and dangerous - something that almost makes you wish you weren't a man because the task involving yourself in the life of someone so beautiful is too much to bare - too much to ask - what's the point anymore?! - her cheeks, lips, eyes and nose, all so perfect, and to my mind that morning she seemed to be the sole reason for all faces, for all human beings - she must've been - she wore black tights and a pink tank top, exercise clothes and looked as though she was about to go for a jog or go to a gym - at a safe enough distance i continued to stare, and started to breathe again
she was looking through her small backpack and i dodged and moved my head in an attempt to keep view of her in the crowded carriage - over the shoulders of a couple of beardless gnomes, i saw her pull out some nail polish and begin painting her nails hot-pink, matching the singlet she wore - an instinctive wave of disappointment crashed inside of me - what i was seeing made no sense to me - someone so perfectly attractive, dressed to exercise and better themselves and maintain a fit and healthy life chose to spend this wasted time painting their nails pink - i hated her for doing this to me - i begun to hyperventilate, hiding her from my eyes i stared at my feet and closed my eyes - why was she doing this? – why was she doing this?
i swallowed and swallowed - hot syrupy saliva built up in my mouth and the train now seemed to be tugged along in slow, slow motion - i counted the seconds until the train was due to pull up at the next station and with every essence of being i had, i willed myself not to vomit on the crowded train
as the doors slid open i dashed away from the convoluted mesh of corporate flesh-beings and stumbled my distance onto the train platform - i found myself a little corner, bent over and begun to vomit - flowing easy, my lunch saw the dim-light of day much earlier than expected - there was probably about three or four bouts of retching and puke before the crowded train eventually slowly pulled away, leaving me alone standing in a puddle of my own vomit and acid rain
and so now what?, i thought to myself - the past was behind me and there was something about standing in a small pool of my own vomit that reassured me that i couldn’t do anything with my life - i was at low and had nothing and no-one around that meant anything to me - taking one last spit, i then took a deep breath and faced the sky above - nothing but a deep endless grey upon grey - the monumental chimneys spread forever in all directions, and spiked the sky, defying nature
after some moments of person reflection, and the realisation that my life was now meaningless and no-ones, i took some notice of the train-timetables posted on the station wall - there was a train due soon that would be heading out east, far east - i knew there was a beach out there somewhere, but never took the time to find out - i made the decision to take this train as far east as i could, and see where east took me
the train was empty - just me and a few copies of yesterday's newspaper - i read them, again - i attempted their crossword puzzles and their many sudokus - looking out the window, i noticed the chimneys became fewer and more sparse - i saw space for the first time since i was a unemployed, workless child - the concrete became sandy and very soon the sandy concrete became nothing but sand - endless sand - endless sand as though the hourglass for all existence had given up, picked up a hammer and killed itself
looking out the window, i tried to pull some inspiration from my experience and write some haiku - it was pointless, as they were all terrible
an hour, maybe two had passed when the train finally came to a halt and a voice from above said we'd come to the end of the line - i must of dozed off as i felt drugged - the sun was shining and i didn't know what that meant anymore - i wondered if what i was doing was wrong - i collected myself and stood up, leaving a few pages of bad poetry behind me - outside the wind blew warm and the sand moved with it - i saw a dirt road stemming not far from the station and begun to take it - walking alone with no intent, no meaning - lost and confused - taking a road
an hour into the sand i heard a car driving down the road behind me - i stopped and turn and heard it honked it's horn playfully - as it pulled up i saw a middle aged man smiling at me - he looked like aging athlete - he looked like he'd had some success in his time - but that time was gone now and that time had passed - he smoked a cigarette and that suited him - "how are you?" he yelled, beyond the wind that whipped me
"yeah, im okay" i replied
"how about a lift? - this ain't no place for no lonesome traveller - jump in brother"
i took at look around the surroundings - sand and dust and wind and sunshine - the endless void on the outskirts of man-made madness
"you reckon? where you going?"
he laughed like drunk child and shook his head
"it's about not where im going brother, it's where im leaving"
"and where are you leaving?"
"well if you hang around here, you'll find out soon enough - you'll find out why as well - up to you brother"
i nodded, and opened the passenger side door - inside the car smelt like air conditioning and cigarettes - the man accelerated fast and we took off down the road - the radio was on but stuck half way between a talk-back program and static - every bump in the road made it more static that talk-back
"nice ride you have"
"thanks man" he said, "smooth and lazy, like a drunken honeymoon"
it was at this time i noticed the gun on the dashboard, vibrating with the sound of travel – what a strange man this is, i thought to myself
“I’m not married myself – but I could do with a drink” I told him
“there’s a bottle of scotch on the back seat”
I turned around and lying on top of a pile of dusty old clothes was an empty bottle of my favourite brand of scotch
“thanks for that – classy”
He laughed again, not taking his eyes off the dirt road ahead and accelerating faster like a nightmare-rewind
“you ain’t got the tippy-tippy!” he suddenly yelled, sounding as though he were a child about to burst with excitement - his tongue spitting out the strange words and his eyes exploding into mine - “you ain’t got the tippy-tippy!"
"what are you... drive properly!"
the car was now shredding itself through the sand and dirt like a chainsaw through flesh - he could barely keep control - i didn't know what frightened me more; the ease in which he succumbed into this madness, or the car violently losing the control of it's driver
"tippy-tippy! you ain't got the tippy-tippy!"
my hands glued sweat and panic on the dashboard, squeezing out pleas of "stop" and "slow down" between my clenched teeth as i braced myself for the inevitable crash
"tippy-tippy! hahaha!"
shielding my eyes from the red sun that burnt like a mellow-hell on the horizon, i caught sight of the empty bottle of scotch being juggled in the back seat by the bumps and grinds of our chaotic descent into god knows where - despite the force and thrashing the car now had on my actions, i threw one arm behind me in the hope of somehow catching the bouncing bottle
"you ain't got the tippy-tippy!!" - his voice now roaring like a demon which somehow changed his face into something much less-than-human
the bottle tickled my finger-tips a number times - "come ooooon!" i screamed, desperate to grab hold of it - i twisted my body around - my face pressed against the seat like i was a child in a mother's arms, tears of fear welling in my eyes - with both arms stretched out to the back seat, the car bucked hard over a bump in the road - we were both sent airborne for what felt like a couple of seconds - upon landing the bottle clapped hard into my palm - and in one swift movement i swung the bottle like an axe into the back of his head - shards of glass seemingly floating in space after the all encompassing thawunk of the thick scotch bottle crashed over the back of his head
his head dropped - as streams of blood slowly webbed down the back of his neck, he let out a monstrous groan - moaning like a mourning mother - weak and on the verge of blacking out, he tried his best to keep his hands on the wheel - he begun to take short sharp breaths to a steady fast beat - "slow us down!" i shouted, trying to break through his madness, and his head injuries - "stop us!" - his moaning was enough to keep inmates awake at night - his madness spilling out of him in short sharps breaths and now a steady stream of blood from the back of his head
i picked the gun up off the dashboard, and pointed it at the side of his head - pushing it against the soft patch of his temple - slowly he turned his head to look at me – his eyes looked dead already, but the fast steady breaths he took kept him alive somehow - until i pulled the trigger - and shot him in the forehead
blood sprayed over my face and chucked onto the window behind him - he was pushed back against the driver's side door like a manikin with an eerie death-smile upon his face - i don't know how it got there - before or after i pulled the trigger? - i dropped the gun to the floor and quickly took control of the steering wheel - i steadied us - i put us back on the dirt road and kept us straight - however there was nothing i could do to get his foot off the accelerator - his foot was jammed and locked down flat - so we continued to speed through the sand and dust - i had no idea which direction we were heading in - all i could do was steer us along the dirt road and hope that maybe someday, the chimneys will slowly rise up over the endless sand horizon, and hope that there was at least one more bullet left in the gun riding the bumps and grinds at my feet
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