Micro story

dafinopi

Hi All. I haven't written anything creative for the past 10+ years, since the leaving cert most likely. I had a notion to try something the other day. I've no idea what it's like, part of me wants to believe its quite good but I can shake the feeling it's complete rubbish! Any thoughts welcome, be brutal!

I watched her steadily make her way down the aisle, glancing from side to side as she went. The blond hair pulled tight back across her crown. I couldn’t help but admire her elegant beauty. Now’s the time to compose myself and look smart I thought, like a proper human being. The liberties I had allowed myself so far on this journey were no longer appropriate. And nor should they be. Now it’s time for business. Time to prepare for the next segment of my life, which would be littered with a succession of mini trials, any one of which could go wrong in an instant. You need to be prepared for the unknown and the first step is to sit up straight and adopt an air of decorum.

What threw me was the slob beside me who was slumped forward on his tray in a manner that could only be described as awkward. He had adopted a host unconventional sleeping positions throughout the flight but this took the biscuit. I had been mildly annoyed with him for the entire time, not that we spoke at all. His dishevelled appearance instantly put me off initiating small talk, and I got the feeling he was quite happy with this arrangement. If I’m honest, that annoyed me too. Why is this loser happy for me to ignore him? He should be practically be begging me to acknowledge him and exchange pleasantries. Instead, when he wasn’t gaping out the window with a look of stupefied ignorance on his puss, he was gracelessly dozing like a bum in a shop door way. I looked away from him in distaste.

I had clocked him earlier in the queue for check in. Early 40's, with a weather beaten face, clean shaven but his short hair was obviously a bit over grown and clearly in need of a wash. A pale green t shirt was draped loosely over his wiry frame, and he wore cheap blue denim jeans with some form of nondescript footwear. A beat up gym bag with a faded logo hung over his shoulder. By what cruel twist of fate had I wound up beside him?

The hostess had advanced past the emergency exits. The mechanical clanking of belt buckles advanced with her. Not that people needed to be told, but rather reminded. We all know the drill- fifteen minutes to landing, up with the tray, straighten the seat and strap yourself in. It shouldn’t be a hassle, we’re all going to be out of here soon so let’s pull together and get organised. You couldn’t say it was an unreasonable request.

But it was too much to ask of some evidently. My new travel companion wasn’t stirring. I sat there regarding him from the corner of my eye as the lady drew closer. The man couldn’t be less prepared for landing if he tried. If he’s in that state when she arrives, I thought, there is going to be some sort of incident here. He has to be asleep I reasoned, generously giving him the benefit of the doubt. Three rows away now and the minor commotion was amplified around us accordingly. Snapping of trays, bookmarking of books, stretching of limbs. Still he lay there like a drunk at closing time.

Two rows now and closing. Her uniform was crisp and neat, it complimented the subtle air of authority she carried. Her demeanour was polite but I got the feeling she could be a harsh mistress if it came to it.

The seat in front of him jolted upright, jerking him forward suddenly. Nothing! What sort of a game was this guy playing? I subconsciously shifted away from him in my seat. As if to announce- make no mistake, I am not associated with this degenerate. I looked up, and she was upon us. She cast an irritated glance over him but before she could sternly address him, he instantly sat up, and in one fluid motion lifted and clipped his tray, relaxed back in his seat and stared forward with a defiant, goofy smirk on his face. The bastard, I thought, he knew all along and played us all for fools.

The landing was smooth and the doors opened giving us the signal to get moving. I stood up in the aisle. He looked to me;

"Would you mind passing down my bag?" He asked
"Sure! no problem" I replied, inwardly cringing.

Matt Holck

sounds like he was in his own dreams

Agent Weebley

dafinopi . . .I thought it was golden!

The predictability of the apparent demise of the fellow who either just didn't feel like talking, or was possibly suffering from a concussion due being clocked at check-in, appeared as a "maybe" very smoothly. So smoothly, in fact, I was wondering how you did it without being noticed, especially on such an expensive transcontinental trip such as that. I thought: could it be that you wished it so passionately with your writing, that it actually happened? Magic.

Or could it be that you bought the first seat on that trip, and he bought the last, therefore, the cheapest seat . . . allowing you special perks? Naah . . . no-one knows who who paid what when flying. And these days, any behaviour outside near catatonia in the pre-flight area always leads to incarceration.

No matter. The final approach was breathtaking.

But something struck me as odd: a missing spacebar after the word drill, and a missing carriage return before the last paragraph . . . were you trying to come across as less than perfect in your ability to afford to take us along on your supposed Virgin flight? Trying to enter Creative Writing with a couple of subminal errors to afford a submissive and stealthy position here to easily do it again with more seductive twists that catch us unaware? Yes, you'll steal the show and fly again and again, methinks.

Well done, dafinopi. Time to tell us more about your flight. Maybe from another angle of re-entry?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UVrwzjtBHq0

dafinopi

Agent Weebley wrote: »

dafinopi . . .I thought it was golden!

Thanks for the enthusiastic praise!

Rubecula

Very interesting. and the touch the merest touch of humour in the narrative makes it top drawer for me. (To be honest, and I don't know if you meant it this way, but after the first paragraph I thought it was a story about a wedding.)

You want brutal? OK, some the descriptive bits seemed a bit heavy. (But I can be worse than you for that kind of thing, so no biggie)

One last thing. Write more of these micro stories and treat us, because that was a n excellent piece.

dafinopi

Rubecula wrote: »

Very interesting. and the touch the merest touch of humour in the narrative makes it top drawer for me. (To be honest, and I don't know if you meant it this way, but after the first paragraph I thought it was a story about a wedding.)

You want brutal? OK, some the descriptive bits seemed a bit heavy. (But I can be worse than you for that kind of thing, so no biggie)

One last thing. Write more of these micro stories and treat us, because that was a n excellent piece.

Wow, thanks for the feedback, glad you enjoyed it.

Yes the wedding thing in the first paragraph was intentional. I thought it might catch the readers interest when the apparent setting changed. On a deeper level (which is me trying to be overly clever), I wanted the narrators thought process to go from understandable to ridiculous when the reader realised he was on a flight and not getting married/at a wedding. I hope it worked on some level.