New Story

This began as a draft of a short that I was working on for a competition, but it seems to have taken on a life of its own. I'm not sure where it'll end but I already have plenty of ideas. I'm also not really sure what this is, it just came out of nowhere really, so I don't have a title as of yet. Got a little inspiration for setting from a book launch that I went to recently. It was Amy T Matthew's book; End of the Night Girl. Read some already and it's pretty much incredible.

Totally listening to this while writing it. Such a classic; Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata. So good for writing to.




Untitled Story (Sorry I don't have anything better at the moment)
Tim Harvey


'Hi, hello. Okay. I'd just like to thank Jack here for that great introduction.'
Applause.
'This has – This has been such a great experience. Just a – Uh. Yeah just a great, the most incredible experience. So, you all know about the book. I'd just like to take a few moments to say some thank you's. First off, thank you to my wonderful parents. Where are you? There they are. Thanks, Mum and Dad.'
Applause.
'Uh, without their support none of this would have happened. Thank you to Jill my agent, and editor. Again, a great support. Plenty of countless nights, and countless bottles of wine –'
Laughs.
'Yeah, plenty of bottles of wine went into this book.'
More laughs.
'But seriously, I couldn't have done it without your expertise, and your, your uh... Eye for detail. Things I would never have picked up. So, thank you Jill.'
Applause.
'But the one person in this room who I owe the most to. The one person who really made this possible, and she's right here –'
He flicks through the book in his hand.
'Right here at the start, it says; “To Sarah. Without you none of this would be possible.”'
Me.
'Sarah. My lovely fiancé. Right here –'
Applause. I blush, and wave.
'I met Sarah, after graduating uni. I had my Arts degree in my hand, and the sky was the limit. I wanted to write, full-time. But what I wanted more than that was to move out of my parent's house.'
Laughs. His Dad nods at the crowd, 'We wanted him out too.' More laughs.
'Yes, yes. So anyway, I hung up my writing boots, as it were.'
Laughs.
'I got a job. A real-life, nine-to-five. Working in an office. And, on my first day I was introduced to the most gorgeous girl I had ever met.'
Someone cheers. I blush.
'I didn't know what to say, I was so nervous. They told me I'd be working with Sarah here, and I froze. I just froze. Anyway we eventually got to know each other and, uh. Yeah, so we got together.'
Applause.
'The next year was pretty much all about work. But we managed to make time for each other. At Christmas I finally had the savings to move out, and I asked Sarah to move in with me. She said yes. So –'
Applause.
'So, we got our little apartment in town. Some of you might know it well. Anyway, so I stayed on at work and by the end of the next year, I popped the question. Well actually, I popped two questions. First thing I said was, I said; “Sarah, will you marry me?” And she said yes –'
Applause.
'That was the easy question –'
Laughs.
'Yeah, so after that one was out of the way, I asked her. I said; “What would you say, if I quit my job and wrote full-time?” And she said. Well you had to think about that one, didn't you?'
Laughs. I smile and nod. It was a big step.
'Anyway, she got back to me after about a week –'
Laughs.
'And she said. You said; “yes.”'
Applause.
'But, but. You also said; “On one condition.” And I asked; “What's the condition?” And you said, and I'll never forget this, you said; “If you do this Jeff. If you quit your job and write full-time, I'll support you. But you have to go all the way. You have to give it everything you have.” And I'll never forget that.'
He looks at me. His eyes are shining in the light.
'I normally. Well, before that, I'd always never really had any motivation. I never felt compelled to really do anything. I would always make big ambitious plans for my life, but I would always just give up. I'd say; “Oh, it's too hard,” or “It's not for me.” But, and this is how I knew that Sarah really was the one for me. I looked into her eyes.'
He looks into my eyes.
'I looked into her eyes, and I knew that if I gave up on this. If I gave up, I wouldn't just be giving up on myself anymore. I never really cared about giving up on myself. But, as I looked into her eyes I knew that if I gave up, I would be giving up on her. And from there, it was the easiest decision I'd ever made. I knew that no matter what. No matter what happened, I wouldn't give up on this woman.'
Applause. I feel a tear roll warm down my cheek.
'I love you Sarah.'
Applause, for us. 'I love you Jeff.'
'And, the rest is history. She's supported me through everything. Financially, emotionally, mentally. Everything –'
Someone shouts; 'Physically?' Laughs.
'Ha, yes. Yes, but we'll save that for another time. We've put off our wedding. She has sacrificed so much for me and, well –'
He chokes up. He holds up the book.
'Here it is. We did it.'
I step over to him. Applause. He can't speak. I wrap my arms around his waist. He kisses me. We did it. I brush hair from his eyes and whisper, just for him; 'We did it.' Applause.
'So, please. Thank you. Thank you for being here. Thank you for buying a copy of the book. I'll be hovering around somewhere. Preferably near the bar –'
Laughs.
'So come and have a chat. Thank you all. Enjoy your night.'
Applause.

The crowd begins to shuffle around, a hum of chatter washes over us from all directions. I can't make out what any of them are saying, but I don't care as Jeff slips his hand around my waist.
'Thank you,' he says it again. He says it just for me.
I place my hand on his chest, his heart races through his shirt. Speeches were never Jeff's strong suite. That's what he would say. I always love watching him stumble through the opening lines. The determination in his eyes to continue. He builds up a flow and I can see the comfort growing in him. I like watching him when he's comfortable.
'Well, you did it.' I say, patting his chest.
'We did it,' he repeats.
I look down and feel my face warm. I don't know how much of it was me. I let him do his own thing. Working long hours, nights, weekends. Coming home, he would have a stack of papers for me to read with an eager smile. I did my best.
His eyes tell me how much I mean to him. His gentle caress of my cheek as he leans in to kiss me. I feel his soft lips brush against mine. I need him too. I push against him. The kiss is short, sweet. It's what we both need.
'Where to now? I'm thinking bar.' He says it with raised eyebrows, humour in his tone. He makes me smile.
'After you.' He takes my hand and guides us through the crowd. He turns his head and nods at the little pats on the back that he receives on the way. His smile in profile leaves me warm. And happy.
'Two whites, thanks.' It has been on my mind all day. I forgot this would happen.
'Water,' I say into his ear.
He turns around, 'Not drinking?'
I look around. It is so crowded here, so crowded. Air is forced into my lungs and I should tell him. But not here. Looking down, I shake my head.
'But it's free,' he chuckles.
I take his hand with both of mine. I run my fingers over his smooth skin. He watches. Our fingers intertwine, connect. I place his hand on my stomach, and look up into his eyes. His face is blurred through tears. The smile on my face hurts. I am happy.
Strong fingers stroke my belly. He turns to the bartender, 'Water.' He turns back and I see his eyes are shiny again. He wears a smile that I have never seen.
'And a scotch,' he adds to the bartender.
I laugh, and he laughs.
'Really?' He leans in. His voice caught in his throat.
I nod, 'Yep.'
'When?'
'This morning. I was going to wait –'
'No, no. This is good.' He nods. 'Come here.' He pulls me close. I hear him sniff over my shoulder. 'This is good.'
We get our drinks and he takes me out onto the balcony. The view of the city at night is haunting. And beautiful. I stand against the barrier, pressing my stomach onto the glass. My vision is filled with only the city. I see nothing but darkness and twinkling lights. Life behind each light. Life behind this glass barrier.
His hand strokes my back. I feel his arms wrap around my waist and I pull back from the barrier. He holds onto my stomach. He is between us and the city.
'What now?' I say into the wind.
'We'll have to get married. That's for sure.' He chuckles, and he knows I don't care about that. I think about the future. Everything that will happen to me now, the ideas, the images wash over me. It hits me. He holds on tight as tears stream down my face.
'We have to go away,' I say.
'Where?' He is calm.
'Everywhere,' I choke out. 'We have to go everywhere. See everything.'
'You're right.'
I exhale. 'We have to do it now.' I cannot stop crying.
'We will. Hey –' He turns me around. 'We can. We can see everything.'
I wrap my arms around his shoulders and cry into his chest.
'Whatever you need now Sarah.' He holds me tight, until it begins to rain. I can hear the light droplets pattering onto his back. I am happy. My eyes shift to the sky. I view the full moon, over Jeff's shoulder. The pale amber light and the tiny droplets of rain wash me clean.
The rest of the evening is a blur. I watch Jeff sign copies of his book, at a small circular table. He sits on a barstool that has been dragged over for the occasion. He looks up at the people and smiles. There is a break in the crowd and Jeff smiles at me. He looks tired, and his hand is cramping. He smiles at me, and I smile back.
We sit in the taxi, and I watch the water slide gently down the outside of the window. Shop fronts and traffic lights blend together seamlessly in a blur of hazy light and fog. Jeff rests his hand on my thigh and I place my hand on top of his. We look out of our windows. My head is light and I rest it against the cool glass. Jeff's hand doesn't leave my thigh. Something bothers me. Something unnameable.
Jeff fumbles with the key to our apartment. He realigns it and slides it gently into the lock. I watch as his hands tremble with alcohol and excitement. I place my hand on his chest and feel him inhale sharply. I breathe deeply, heavily, and we enter. His coat is discarded as we glide across the living room. My shoes.
Light brushes of our lips as we pass into the bedroom. I float to the bed. Jeff is gone. White satin sheets wrap around me. Soft against my skin. Jeff is next to me. I feel his breathing, heavy and warm. His hands trace familiar patterns across my body. Warmth.
My eyes droop and I let Jeff kiss my neck. He devours me with gentle passion. I feel elegant. The air between us disappears and we are engulfed in satin.

I wake early. Jeff is still asleep as I make my way to the kitchen. I set up the coffee machine and pull out my laptop. Sitting naked on a stool I wait for the internet to load. Between pouring coffee and checking my email, I browse travel agent's websites.
Round-the-World trips. A cruise? Backpacking? We have the money for everything.
Jeff stirs and I call out to him, 'Morning.'
I hear a groan and the quick shuffling of feet. There is silence and then I hear it. Jeff is sick. He didn't have much to drink last night. But he is still sick.
'You alright in there?' I call as I head back to the bedroom. Modesty takes over and I throw on a dressing gown.
I hear a long low groan and something in my stomach doesn't feel quite right. 'I feel like shit,' he says after spitting into the toilet bowl.
I make my way into the bathroom and see him. He is naked and curled up on the floor, hugging the bowl. His face is grey.
'Jesus Jeff!' I rush to him and place my hand against his forehead. I don't know if it is hot or not.
'Must've been the wine,' Jeff chuckles weakly.
'Must be,' I answer. I don't feel right. 'Wait here.'
'I'm not going anywhere,' his smile is weak and it hurts me.
I head back to the kitchen and find a large bowl in one of the cupboards above the sink. When I return he is still lying on the floor. Some colour has returned to his face and his smile, while still weak, has life behind it.
'Take this,' I hand him the bowl. Leaning down, I wrap my arm around his waist and help him to stand. He is bent over, but he smiles. We head back to the bedroom and he slides awkwardly under the sheets.
'I thought you were supposed to get this,' he says, clutching the bowl.
'What?' I can't think.
'Morning sickness,' he answers.
I laugh and he manages a weak chuckle. 'How are you feeling?'
'Sick,' he says plainly. 'My head is killing me.' He sounds hungover, but he didn't drink that much. I swear he couldn't have been that drunk. I fetch him some Panadol and a glass of water. He thanks me and I sit on the edge of the bed, my hand resting on his leg, above the satin sheets. Soon enough, he falls asleep.
In the kitchen I sit on the stool, browsing travel websites and sipping coffee. I drink both cups, just because Jeff never likes anything to go to waste. I ride the buzz and check that Jeff is asleep before sliding a cigarette out of my bag. He knows that I smoke occasionally, but under the circumstances he wouldn't be too happy.
I shouldn't be too happy about it I realise as I sit on the balcony inhaling the tobacco. I place my hand on my stomach and promise it'll be the last one. My mind drifts and I close my eyes. I see gaudy advertising for “foreign adventure,” and “oriental excitement.” The advertising images are full of dollar signs and exclamation marks.
As I let the nicotine hit me the images soften. The words and bright flashy logos become subdued. The images behind them float forward and become the main focus. I see crystal beaches and sand so white. Impossibly white. Long gangly limbs of tropical trees. I can hear the waves. And the silence. I have always wanted to go.
I see us sitting on the back of a bus loaded with people. I can hear the gaggle of foreign accents and languages and we sit coated in sweat. I look out the window and see the dusty mountains and our spiralling road. I see white goats and ancient people leading them up the mountain.
The top of the mountain is snowy and the bus is now a van. We are wrapped in woollen coats and I watch the frosty breath coming through Jeff's smiling lips. I wear a knitted beanie with long braided tassels. The colours are vibrant and earthy.
I see a rug that looks like it is made of the same colours. It hangs in an open market, amongst so many rugs just like it. The vendor sits on a tiny wooden stool. The stool is older than him but they are both majestic and timeless. He sucks on a pipe and I clutch my stomach. It is big.
It is bigger when we step off the train. The cold chill is back and we view royalty and imperialism through tinted windows. Red and blue flags and red men standing guard. Twisting and turning, the wrought-iron moves freely under their careful gaze.
The wrought-iron is big and powerful. No, it is steel. Steel so high, so tall. We kiss, long and passionate. Giggling as we touch our tongues together, how very appropriate.
We break our kiss. Something is in the way, stopping us from being closer. We cross oceans and time. Something is holding us back.
I look down to see what has come between us. It is me. It is inside me.

I jerk my head up, feeling droplets of sweat fly off of my brow. My hands tremble and I notice the cigarette is almost out. A long stick of ash hangs loosely from the butt. I inhale deeply and put it out with my foot.
I hold it. I hold it long, needing it to calm my trembling hands. Then I finally let it out. Last one. I promise. Quickly, I move back to the computer. We have to go now. I have to go now.
Footsteps stir me and I realise I have been sitting at the laptop for over an hour.
'Morning,' I hear Jeff say from the bedroom door.
He looks incredibly tired. 'How are you feeling?'
'Better,' he says weakly. There is a croak in his throat. 'I smelt coffee.'
'I drank it. Didn't know when you'd be up.' I watch as he smiles easily. The movement of his mouth and the vibrant flicker in his eyes instantly warm me. He makes his way over to where I sit, perched on my stool.
'That looks good,' he says, pointing at the screen over my shoulder. I rub my temple on his arm. He points at an image of a tropical beach. 'I could use a holiday.'
I lean back and tilt my head up to look at him. 'When can we go?'
'How fast can you pack?' He answers sincerely, his eyes fixed on the beach. I turn my head around and kiss his bare stomach. He strokes my hair. 'Do it Sarah,' his voice is calm.
I turn back to the screen and start looking for flights. His hand brushes my hair as he walks around the counter and over to the sink. I smile at him, but he has a strange expression on his face. I feel my smile fade. He looks strangely at me.
I close my eyes as he lurches violently over and throws up in the sink. I can hear him coughing. I can't watch.




There will be more to this. As usual I wish the Tabs worked on Blogger. It's so much easier to read with the indents, but I don't know how to get them to work.