Lone Walk

Red Alert

This is supposed to be just a very short story. Apologies in advance for poor grammar; this is a result of four years of engineering where a full sentence is something you rarely see. I'd appreciate any feedback about it, particularly how i could improve it or my writing, as it's my very first contribution.

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Seats are not for feet. I stare at the faded label, as if I've never seen it before. I kid myself, of course I saw it before. Gran had taught me to read it all those years ago. I'm already fretting, and right now this sign is a helpful distraction. I study the red lettering, trying to glean something from it to think about. There's nothing there. The bus is going too fast, the engine screams venomously as it speeds into the last strait. The driver sits back, top gear kicks in and the seafront fills the windscreen. The journey seemed exceedingly short, and I grew uneasy at the task before me. An unmanly emotion welled up by the time he pulled in and killed the engine.

Alighting by the centre door I'm off. I question myself again as to why I'm doing this. I begin to think this rehearsal is idiotic, the whole affair contrived. This dry-run feels like cheating, an underhand betrayal of spontaneity. I'll know what's to come, she won't. I pass the yacht club, just as I will tomorrow. I'll have met her by now. She'll be easy to spot – her floral dress will slide suggestively over her curvy figure as she sits on the bench. She'll be early, I'll be late, just as usual. We'll walk down the concrete, taking the upper deck.

The low lying sun will cut through her sensual curls. Her pale face will redden ever so slightly. Red sunburn will slightly tinge her unblemished arms. We'll chat, same as we used to when we'd walk home by the playing fields when evening set in, as friends. Gone are the worries and trials of the year. We'll talk about holidays, clubbing and her going-away party. Her safe company will trap me. I feel alone, she will be polymorphic, my best friend and yet tomorrow my enemy.

Should I have asked her to meet me tonight? In less than an hour it would have all been over. I ponder this at length. The lexical emotion will be gone by tomorrow, made wooden by practice. But then I realize I'm side-tracked. Because there are no words. In fact the idea seems so nebulous that I shouldn't be worrying about the words of expression. As it becomes more detailed it seems almost a dangerous lust, one with which I should not be trifling but rather trying to expel.

Passing the rusted wind-vane I look out across the bay. The Stena Explorer's white shape drifts into the harbour. The evening sky beautifully sepias the modern portholes, locking this moment in time. The faces look out the window as they await family and parties. Maybe even they know about my fraud. Do they know how pleased I was she left him? Do they know how I always denied this to the lads, down in the pub over a few pints. I'd always laughed off the accusation and I convinced myself it was true. I feel like I'm guilty of a crime, one of cowardly omission and hiding, not one of error or wrongdoing.

A cat basks in the sun, soaking up the warm evening rays. People walk slowly, relaxing, pondering in a carefree bliss. This searing tranquility will revisit tomorrow. One way or another the secret will be unraveled. I may say nothing and just embrace her as I've been longing to, leaving talk or admonishment until later. Her warm flesh will feel electric as I wager the past four years on that one and possibly only kiss.

But a snake enters my mental paradise. Out loud I call myself a fool for ever telling that man. That day by the desk was a needless lapse. I put my hands up and said I wanted her. He knew it was true. But I think he's on the same scent too. And that makes him dangerous. Maybe he's not the only one, maybe they all know, and I look like a real fool. My chest tightens. He's sitting somewhere, coming up with a better plan. He'll laugh at me and my lame attempts.

By now the gleaming zenith of the lighthouse stands before me. Its glistening reflector casts a hot stripe on the filthy pavement. A schoolboy nervously talks to his new-found girlfriend as their legs dangle over the ledge. He talks safely in a guarded way to her, not wanting to endanger his beautiful scene. I briskly encircle the lighthouse, feeling selfish for intruding on the young couple's idyll.

I start to walk back along the lower deck. She'll have to backtrack too tomorrow – will we go our separate ways? – she on the upper vowing never to speak to me again, I on the lower wishing the poisoned chalice to be taken from me. Will we walk back hand-in-hand wondering why this perfect evening took eons to come? Will her gentle voice masked by the sea tell me that she's known for ages? Maybe we'll walk back, still just friends but closer, without that lustful gulf I fashioned in my head.

My head says don't – she's on a plane in a few months and won't be coming back. It will all be a waste of time. The rest of me longs for her to be here right now. A few months will be better than nothing. I feel an adrenaline rush as if I'd got it all over with, but I'm still back at square one. The wind-vane punctuates my path again, and an old man sits there with his collie dog nodding as I go past. Has he seen many lads like me I wonder? I hold my phone, the crisp display showing “u want 2 come 4 a walk on dun laoghaire 2mw evening?”. I gingerly push the send button and return my phone to my back pocket, vowing not to look at it until later, hoping secretly that she'll be busy.

The bus beckons. I put my card into the machine, it doesn't work. I hand it to the driver and he waves it away, saying it's fine and asking if there were many more down the pier. I tell him No, just a couple at the end and a few evening strollers. He spins up the engine and heads for home. “Meeting someone tonight?” asks the driver as I fumble with my wallet. “No,” I say sadly, “not tonight.”

takola

I like it.. The descriptions are very good. The train of thought is easy to follow.

Only thing i did think is it didnt go anywhere. The ending was as confused as the start. And there was no conclusion really? What happened?