Old Short

Well, my short (30,000 word) competition entry is finished and except for some heavy edits I'm pretty much done. Although I'm fairly short on inspiration at the moment with all sorts of uni work to be done.

I wrote this story last year and worked on it during my Creative Writing course at uni. Apologies if you've read it before but I'm thinking with a little sprucing up it might be a good entry for another competition. I've made a few slight changes and cleaned up some of the prose so it is still worth a read for those familiar with the story. There is a lot of myself in the main character in this short, I wouldn't mind expanding on it in later revisions.

Hopefully next week, after uni is done, I'll have some fresh short stories and maybe some more Ray Douglas. Although I'll have to get back into the flow with Irredeemable, so that might be a little while off now.

Any comments or criticisms on this short are greatly appreciated.

Oh, also listening to a bit of old Ben Folds stuff for this one; You Don't Know Me. Funny video, great duet, love Regina Spektor's voice.

Into Town
Tim Harvey

I finally got off work at about two. It is July twenty-first, the day before my twenty-first birthday. I grab a six-pack of beer on the way home and with nothing to do tomorrow I begin to form plans of sleeping in. When I get home my mother asks me how work was, I tell her it was “fine.” In my room I listen to music through my headphones and drink, alone. It's close to five when I make my decision, by half-past I am riding the 138 into town.

I get off the bus on Grenfell Street near the Harris Scarfe entrance, alone. My friends couldn't do anything on a Tuesday night, I tell myself, although I didn't bother to ask. Enjoying this manufactured solitude I head down towards the Hungry Jacks that sits opposite Target on Rundle Street. When I get there I order a Bacon Deluxe and wait, alone. As my order is called I notice the burger is greasier than usual, a gift for my birthday I guess. I take my time with the burger, sitting in the corner watching people eat their meals. When I leave, after crossing the street I can't help but notice the lights on the building, swimming plates of colour rising up into the cloudless, purple winter sky. Pink and green dance upwards, a fusion of orange bursts and fades, and I stay until the purple sky turns to black. It must be six or six-thirty by now and the combination of time and food is killing my buzz, the perfect moment for more beer. I stroll down Rundle St, alone. With my hands buried in the pockets of my thick woollen coat and with the collar turned up, my lonesome figure casts an eerie shadow in front of me. I reach the entrance to the alley which houses the Elephant, but make the split-second decision to duck across the street and go to the Belgian Beer Café. Three hours pass.

I trade cash for expensive European beer in fancy glasses. My wallet noticeably lighter and my face noticeably redder I sit, alone. They have noticed too. Young couples and some not-so-young couples whisper and glance, their shifty eyes drawn to me. It's not because I'm drunk, I can hide that, no it is because I am alone. I suck the last drops of Stella Artois out of my oversized glass and slink out the back door, I am tired of the stares. As I stumble down an alleyway heading East I get the feeling that this alley could be a backstreet in London, or Paris, or anywhere. Red bricks and wrought-iron fences line my path and old-style street lamps illuminate the skeletons of trees. I light a cigarette and become captivated by the patterns and trails the light casts on the smoke. I reach East Terrace, or is it Hutt Street? The park across the road is inviting me to explore it. Why not stay here tonight, it asks me, but loud music snags my attention and draws me left. I stumble down towards the Stag and against all odds get in without hassle. I sigh as I take the stairs up to the second floor. Confronted with blaring music and the brightest lights cutting through the intermittent moments of sheer darkness I realise my mistake. Quickly turning I also realise that I will have trouble trying to navigate the stairs back down and decide that I have to stay.

I position myself in the darkest corner near the bar and tucked away in my little spot I continue drinking. What time is it now? I do not know. I watch the people, drinking, talking, dancing, sharing company. These are things that I do not do. The only thing I have said in the last few hours is “another beer.” I am really tired now, tired of the solitude and tired of being lonely. I tell myself to get a taxi and go home, when I notice that there is a girl standing at the bar drinking, alone. I get another beer and watch. She has had two drinks already and orders a third, all the while not moving from her spot in the opposite corner, alone. I watch for what feels like hours and know that she is alone, alone like me. She has red hair and a green dress and I know that if I don't do something I will regret this moment forever. I step over to her.
'Hi,' I say.
She says 'hi.'
'Are you here with anyone?' I ask. She looks down, shaking her head. I watch her closely.
She looks up and lies, 'I just want to be alone tonight.' I know it's not true, I could see her watching the crowd, sighing as she ordered another drink.
'I wanted to be alone too. But I'm starting to hate the feeling.' I tell her, 'Nobody wants to be lonely, right?' She nods slowly and at this recognition I ask her, 'what are you drinking?'
'Gin and Tonic,' she replies.
'Do you want to drink with me?' I ask.
She looks up, her pale green eyes deep in thought, she looks directly into my eyes and I don't turn away. Her concentration breaks and the corners of her mouth turn up, revealing a hint of white teeth behind her upper lip.
'Sure,' she answers.

We turn and look at the dancers and the talkers. I don't want to ask but she must want to dance. As I try to remember the last time I attempted anything close to dancing she leans into me, tilts her head up to my ear and says,
'Don't even dare asking me to dance out there.' I smile.
'Wouldn't dream of it,' I say back, my eyes are fixed on the dancers, yet I can tell that she is also smiling.
'That thing you said before about being lonely,' she says.
'Yeah?' I ask. She takes her time.
'I don't want to be lonely,' she finally says. I watch her as she tries to articulate what she is feeling. 'It's like it eats at you,' her face scrunches up as she tries to think of the right words, 'you know?' She looks up at me, her eyebrows raised.
'It was killing me,' I reply. Her mouth spread into a smile.
'Let's go,' she says.
'Where?' I ask.
'Anywhere,' she bursts out, 'anywhere but here.' I nod and take her hand.

I lead her out into the night and we head West, into the city. When we reach Rundle Mall I ask her where we should go from here.
'Let's keep going,' she replies as I put my coat over her shoulders.
I smile and nod, 'okay.'
When we reach Hindley Street I ask, 'what now?'
'Further,' she exclaims, excited. I laugh and we continue. We joke about dancing, and people who are obsessed with socialising, I tell her it must be my birthday by now. When we reach the end of Hindley Street she says she is hungry. We sit in the corner at McDonald's eating cheeseburgers, laughing and talking. Between bites and with a mouthful of food I tell her that her dress matches her eyes. She pauses and stares at me before breaking out in laughter. She tells me that my shoes match my hair and I laugh so hard I cannot finish my burger. When we are done we jump into the nearest taxi. The driver asks where we are headed, we cannot contain ourselves and between giggles we tell him to head West, down Henley Beach Road. She pulls a small flask from her bag and we trade swigs while the driver isn't looking. The warm gin slides down my throat and makes my eyes water.
'Hey, where are you guys going?' The irritated driver asks.
'Keep going,' she almost yells at him and we both laugh. He drops us off near the end of the road, close to the beach and we run down to the water, but don't go in. She points at the orange sky and we look back East at the tip of the rising sun, visible over the hills.
She stands on her toes and kisses me on the cheek, 'Happy Birthday.'