Saturday April 21st, 2018

The exercise:

The penultimate day of Nirvana Week brings: Endless, Nameless.

3 comments:

morganna said...

Melanie and Esme trudged up the dry gulch. This was the third day on their own and they hadn't found any food or water. Yesterday, they'd passed the spring that fed the creek they'd been following. Melanie's face was wet with silent tears as they climbed. None of this was an adventure any more.

Greg said...

@Morganna: a very poignant paragraph which neatly intensifies the emotion that the characters are feeling.

Nameless, Endless
"Limousine driver?" asked Emma as the laughter dried up. Red tugged his wig off and shook his head, revelling in the cool night air and freedom from the tightly elasticated hairdo. "I think I can do better than that, you know."
"You missed my best line," said Red. "You were talking and someone asked me who I thought I was. I told them I was a woman rich enough to pay Forbes to keep me off their rich-list."
"Did that put them in their place?"
"I got a proposal of marriage." Red winked. "Come on, I'm dying to get out of this outfit and never wear it again."
"Until next week." Emma's hand waved in the air and, as if by magic, a taxi appeared.
"Next week?"
The taxi ride was long enough for Emma to explain the conversation she'd had, and nearly choke herself laughing with Red's description of the accomplice he'd practically stripped in front of the pub. Then the car pulled up outside an Indian Restaurant whose doors were still open and had fragrant curry smells wafting around the street. They got out, Emma paying rather than watch Red struggle with pockets, and they watched the taxi drive away.
"Can I have the paper?" Red's hand was already stretched out.
"Are you going to go there tonight?"
The lie hung in the air between them, unspoken.
"Fine," said Emma at last, handing over the paper. "At least get changed first. And... look Red, I know this is important in its own way, but it's not the Mayor all over again. This is art: it's more expensive, but fewer people care."
Red's jaw was set, and his expression was practically mutinous. "It's not just art," he said. "It's theft. This is every bit as horrible as what Wilkerson did, but it happens mostly to adults and the hurt is much harder to see. So much so that it's practically nameless for most people, and it's endless for the victims. That's if you even bother to look. Lives get ruined over this, just like Wilkerson ruined lives, but it's subtle, it's insidious, it's pandemic." The words came out evenly but firmly, a strongly flowing stream of vocabulary that conveyed heartfelt emotion.
"I regret getting you that word-a-day toilet paper," said Emma, sighing. "I knew I should have got you the join-the-dots one instead."
"Oh, I'm still joining the dots," said Red, but there was a twinkle back in his eye now. "It's a look-see tonight, nothing more. I like the rooftops and the shadows."
Emma's hand might, very softly, have grazed Red's stubble under his chin, but you'd have to have been watching for it. "I'll watch some Stephen Colbert," she said. "He'd be funnier if he was Canadian, I think. Call me when you get into trouble."
"If," said Red, walking away. Emma watched him go for a moment, and then walked in the other direction.

Marc said...

Morganna - a short but powerful entry as your tale marches on. Literally, at the moment :)

Greg - ah, there's the Red I remember. Thank you for bringing these two back to life, I have missed them.

And yes, business is definitely picking up now...