War/Peace. Matthew Vandenberg

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СКАЧАТЬ writing about, she’s the one who remained in Jamie’s thoughts as he traversed the globe like a ‘trotter, and the first fine girl he ever thought he had a chance with, she’s the one I can only warn you about, the rosy cheeks, a cherry blossom in the clasp of her shiny hair, fine like the string of her concentrated gaze.

      ‘She’s the one you could fall for if you ain’t careful. Check yourself, don’t trip. It’s a cool climate where she dwells and if you know anything about thermoregulation then you should know that you’ll freeze, experience shock and your knees will go weak, if you gaze into her eyes for too long. And should she gaze into yours her soul might just burn to a crisp. It’s simple really: you too hot, she too ethereal. Wiki this shit if my point ain’t crystal clear like the space between her and I. Listen to the soundtrack to the scene, rewind, repeat, and rewind again, type a couple thousand words on why she’s too nice for you, run away and find your refuge in the sleek, sick streets of Sydney, or on a silver screen, or behind a typewriter as you typecast yourself by typing another typical text that defines and refines your personality in just the way the way her fingers swim through her hair defines her personality, her mystique, and the presence of this apparition you now see before you.

      ‘The light above you dies. Flashes first – like the light on the roof of a police car – then the scene’s as dark as a diamond. You take one deep breath and then another: never before have you touched a virgin. Electricity runs through your body. No doubt energy is being transferred from your body to hers already, and this you can do nothing to stop: the first law of thermodynamics states that the flow of heat is a form of energy transfer. She shivers so you’re sure she’s still cold. But sparks fly and you bow your head in shame.

      ‘You begin to feel weak, but you feel fine. You drop to your knees as she pushes one, two fingers into your naked palm. Her intent, to exorcise some vile fluid from your body, and yours not too dissimilar. She recites prayers from a book of God, calmly, speaking in a manner only an angel can, presses her fingers into your skin just a little harder, and takes a deep breath. The lights flicker, now red, and a wave of this new light sweeps over the skin of the scene. You begin to weep and so does she. The ground begins to shake. But she doesn’t let go.

      ‘Her grip on you is intense: the grip of a lord you’ll never meet, her gaze so intense as it’s in present, her movements succinct, controlled and completely coordinated.’

      I sigh, retreat, pulling my hands from the grasp of her fingers, smile, and then run from the library. I keep my balance as the ground splits between my feet. Running like Kanye I escape into the night.

      ‘Bye.’

      ******

      References

      1 Hold My Hand - Michael Jackson and Akon

      2 She's So High - Tal Bachman

      3 Good Girls Go Bad - Cobra Starship

      4 Runaway – Kanye West

      JACKSON CURTIS - 3:03!pm - November 30 - 2011

      ‘Artarmon. It’s a suburb on the lower north shore of Sydney. It’s a suburb where people live, work, and the home of that Special Broadcasting Service known as SBS. It’s where a Bunnings factory lies, one just south of a site in Chatswood where an even larger one sits, its back straight and all confident-like. That’s where I work. That’s why I’m here, in Artarmon, today. But it ain’t the reason why I’m quickening my pace just a little as I near the freeway overpass, it ain’t the reason why I’m rushing towards the railway station, having left the large Artarmon Bunnings store, the reason why my thumbs are inside my pockets like the heads of two curious turtles. The reason why I’m here is because I like it here. I like this area, the people, the trees, the restaurants, and also: she just called my name so I’m running over to her now.

      ‘Who is she? I’ll fill you in later with the name and all. Just keep up with me for now as I'mma speed through the back-story. It was the day I discovered I knew how to talk to girls, one shy July afternoon earlier this year. I was here, right where I am now, and that’s why – as the sunlight illuminates the ground beneath me – I find inside my mind a snapshot of that time, that day, and that scene, as smooth and delicate as the contours of this girl’s body. That’s why every step I take I’m hearing a click, as though I’m wearing high heels, and with every click I’m viewing another shot of the scene as it was laid out before me just 5 months ago as I wandered through this shy suburb on a day just like today.

      ‘The day before this day was the first time she touched me, and I mean for real. I wanted to tell this story from the beginning but I can’t think straight – not that I have tried to since the day she told me how she felt. Now I should tell you just who I’m talking about: one girl and one woman. The girl stands just across the road from me right now, the woman is my 9th grade history teacher. Ok. Are you following? Good. The day of interest – which will serve as some kind of point – was the day right after she . . .

      ‘Ok, can’t think straight. Wait. Bring the beat back. Not Stay The Night, Shake It. Ok. That’s good. Where was I? She kissed me. In July of the current year she kissed me, my 9th grade history teacher. I’ll tell you heaps more about that later on, but let’s view a few shots of the following day. Now hopefully you get the pictures, so picture this shit: I’m walking down this very path after having been to a group interview at the Artarmon Bunnings. It’s an interview for a position at the as-yet-unopened Chatswood Bunnings, where I currently work. The teacher ain’t with me, she never is outside of school. But I’m a new person. You see, in school, by day, and around my peers I’m a shy guy who does well academically, a brilliant mathematician, a perfect physicist, or an avid history student. When I’m alone with her I’m confident, alert, cheery, and something far better than what I once was.

      ‘So on the day after the day she kissed me, and I swear I’ll tell you more about this later on, I was feeling just how I do when I’m with her. Artarmon a stage, the sun a disco ball, the movement of cars on the freeway a reflection of my own, and my proximity to this girl who now stands right before me ideal like the glaze on her eyes when she first focused her gaze on me:

      ‘Excuse me,’ I said, slowing my pace just a little. ‘Were you just at the interview?’

      ‘Yeah.’ – With one hand she moves some hair behind one ear. With one eye, and for one instant, I gaze at her face.

      ‘You were great. Seemed really confident.’

      ‘Oh, thank you. I know they say you should always be the first to volunteer for any activity but I just couldn’t . . . You were great though. You were so enthusiastic . . .’

      ‘You know what,’ I say to the camera. ‘This is boring. I would rather be picking up for real than writing about it . . . Bye.’

      ******

      References

      1 Double Vision – 3Oh!3

      2 Just Lose It – Eminem

      3 Shake It – Metro Station

      4 Stay The Night – James Blunt

      JACKSON CURTIS - 3:03!pm - July 4 - 2011

      I do a double take with my gaze, capturing the entrance to the Bunnings car park twice, then thrice.

      'The station? Is it back this way?'

      'Yeah,' СКАЧАТЬ