Heads turn as the Gray Man climbs up onto the table top. He stands there for a minute with the green lamp sideways on top of his head. It looks like he's wearing a terrible novelty hat.
The sound of footsteps from outside stops. Now that it's quiet, the occupants of the cafe realize they can hear the Gray Man mumbling. His voice is low and wheezy, and all they can make out are the occasional consonants and sibilants.
"Sh...tp...sh...tp...st..pf..k...k..p..Bas..t...sss"
He starts shifting back and forth as he mumbles. He's got some kind of small device in one hand. It looks like a cell phone mated with a tiny hair dryer, and for some reason there's what looks like a chicken's foot attached to it.
The Old Man and the Pregnant Woman watch with interest as the Gray Man stares at his device, and then tries to wave above his head. His hand hits the ceiling, and he loses his grip. The little device falls to the table, hitting with a plasticy cracking noise.
"Ff....sst!"
The Pregnant Woman leans over to the Old Man, putting her mouth in the general vicinity of his ear.
"Here we go again" she says nastily.
The Old Man glances at her out of the corner of his eye and smirks, then looks back at the Gray Man.
The Gray Man leans down to try and retrieve his device. The lamp, deprived of its support, swivels until it is upside down and hangs precariously.
The Gray Man bends awkwardly, and shuffles across the table after his device. One booted footstep too many and the device goes flying off the table. It skitters along the floor like a small evasive rodent, and vanishes beneath the other tables.
"Box of hammers would do better than that" the Old Man whispers to the Pregnant Woman. He adds a disdainful snort, and resumes watching the Gray Man while using his plastic witch's claw as a back scratcher.
The Gray Man peers down at the floor, trying to see where his device went. He turns his head from side to side, still stooped over. His breathing is getting louder.
The Pale Girl picks her head up off her knees and looks around. A line forms on her forehead when she spots Gray Man up on his table top.
She glances over at THE KING! He's ignoring everything, instead intent on several pool balls he has retrieved from bottom of the pool table. He's trying to balance the balls one on top of the other with one hand, while brandishing his scepter at them with the other.
Pale Girl shakes her head ever so slightly, her long whitish hair twitching around her shoulders. She turns to the Pregnant Woman and the Old Man. They each have a glass of the Pregnant Woman's colorless drink in one hand. They're leaning in toward each other, and staring at the Gray Man as they comment back and forth.
No help there.
The Gray Man straightens back up suddenly. His head hits the lamp again, this time hard enough to knock it off of the wall entirely. The lampshade goes bouncing down off his shoulder, and the rest of the lamp ends up hanging from the wall at the end of a foot or so of cord.
The Pale Girl sighs a small resigned sigh, and then sniffs quite loudly. She gets up out of her chair and crosses the room to the Gray Man's table. She just stands there, and after a minute the Gray Man looks down at her. She raises an eyebrow and holds out her hand.
The Gray Man considers the hand for a moment, and then carefully climbs down off the table. Once on the floor, he takes her hand. The Pale Girl quietly leads him towards the back of the Cafe.
As they pass THE KING! he is distracted from his tower of balls. His scepter wavers and the tower collapses into a small avalanche of rolling clacking balls. Several of them escape into the pockets of the pool table.
THE KING! frowns angrily, but before he can say anything the Gray Man and the Pale Girl have gone past and vanished into the kitchen.
1) The Old Man and The Pregnant Woman wait for the two to come back, discussing the state of things outside.
2) The Old Man and The Pregnant Woman wait for the two to come back, trying to get THE KING'S! opinion on what's going on.
3) The Old Man and The Pregnant Woman try to spy on The Gray Man and The Pale Girl.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Round One, on the house
"Pour me one?"
She starts to reply, and gets the first syllables of an insult out before she realizes he's only asked for a drink. She'd been expecting something else. The old man looks at her expectantly.
Before she can answer, the building suddenly creaks. It's the wind. Lots and lots of wind, pouring down out of the sky and slamming into the outside of the building. There's the sound of windblown objects rolling and colliding. Everyone in the cafe tries to look unconcerned by the sudden intrusion of the outside world.
There's a crash that can only be something large and made of glass becoming lots of sharp little somethings, and then the wind goes back to wherever it came from. The cafe is quiet again.
The pregnant woman looks at the old man hopefully. Maybe he's forgotten about the drink. No. He's still waiting for an answer.
"You...." she starts to say one thing, but gives up. "Here." She fills the old man's glass a third of the way, then puts the bottle next to her own glass. He takes a cautious sip and tries not to cough any back out.
"Haven't had that..." and then more sound from outside interrupts the conversation. Footsteps. It sounds like an entire army is going past the building, in total silence except for their boots. The cadences are strange though. The steps are nonrhythmic, some shuffling, some too fast, some just uneven. Maybe this army is skipping past. Maybe this army has been drinking. Maybe this army isn't trained all that well. Maybe this isn't an army.
The gray man in the corner eyes the door with excitement. For the first time in a while, his breathing is quiet and unlabored. He has to force himself to look away, back down to his table. His pained breathing returns.
The pale young woman buries her face in her knees, still hugging them to her chest. She doesn't make a sound.
THE KING! perks up at the sound of the footsteps. He looks at the front door, and laughs. "There they go again!" he says to no one in particular. Seeing heads turning in his direction, he pulls his scepter from the corner pocket of the pool table and waves it grandly at his court. He's oblivious to the pitying looks several of them are directing his way.
The gray man in the corner is not looking at THE KING! He's still trying to keep his eyes on the table in front of him. He puts both hands flat on the table, and then suddenly slaps the table surface and jumps to his feet.
The antics of THE KING! are forgotten as everyone's attention shifts to the gray man's corner.
He climbs onto the table he was sitting at. His head pushes a green lamp sideways, and his boots knock an ashtray off of the table onto the floor. He's clearly about to do something drastic.
1) The Pregnant Woman talks him down
2) The Old Man goes into action
3) Let's see where he's going with this
She starts to reply, and gets the first syllables of an insult out before she realizes he's only asked for a drink. She'd been expecting something else. The old man looks at her expectantly.
Before she can answer, the building suddenly creaks. It's the wind. Lots and lots of wind, pouring down out of the sky and slamming into the outside of the building. There's the sound of windblown objects rolling and colliding. Everyone in the cafe tries to look unconcerned by the sudden intrusion of the outside world.
There's a crash that can only be something large and made of glass becoming lots of sharp little somethings, and then the wind goes back to wherever it came from. The cafe is quiet again.
The pregnant woman looks at the old man hopefully. Maybe he's forgotten about the drink. No. He's still waiting for an answer.
"You...." she starts to say one thing, but gives up. "Here." She fills the old man's glass a third of the way, then puts the bottle next to her own glass. He takes a cautious sip and tries not to cough any back out.
"Haven't had that..." and then more sound from outside interrupts the conversation. Footsteps. It sounds like an entire army is going past the building, in total silence except for their boots. The cadences are strange though. The steps are nonrhythmic, some shuffling, some too fast, some just uneven. Maybe this army is skipping past. Maybe this army has been drinking. Maybe this army isn't trained all that well. Maybe this isn't an army.
The gray man in the corner eyes the door with excitement. For the first time in a while, his breathing is quiet and unlabored. He has to force himself to look away, back down to his table. His pained breathing returns.
The pale young woman buries her face in her knees, still hugging them to her chest. She doesn't make a sound.
THE KING! perks up at the sound of the footsteps. He looks at the front door, and laughs. "There they go again!" he says to no one in particular. Seeing heads turning in his direction, he pulls his scepter from the corner pocket of the pool table and waves it grandly at his court. He's oblivious to the pitying looks several of them are directing his way.
The gray man in the corner is not looking at THE KING! He's still trying to keep his eyes on the table in front of him. He puts both hands flat on the table, and then suddenly slaps the table surface and jumps to his feet.
The antics of THE KING! are forgotten as everyone's attention shifts to the gray man's corner.
He climbs onto the table he was sitting at. His head pushes a green lamp sideways, and his boots knock an ashtray off of the table onto the floor. He's clearly about to do something drastic.
1) The Pregnant Woman talks him down
2) The Old Man goes into action
3) Let's see where he's going with this
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)