Virus

It was spreading, there was no doubt about that.

The clouds were coming in from the east; whatever the fuck that meant. I only knew it was the east because I had watched the sun come up that morning, sitting in exactly the same position I was in now. Although it was late afternoon I was still sitting there. I couldn’t get the thought out of my head that it was getting worse. Like a virus the feeling was spreading through me, undeniable, like immersing yourself in a luke warm bath, it was encompassing me until only my nose was above the surface. Bloody hell.

I knew I had to do something about it. I had to get up out of this chair and open the front door. Not so hard really. Except the front door was a million miles away and someone had stuck shit in the key hole. It was about as appealing as a black eye. I’d had a few of those in my time too. But none would be worse than having to face the truth that waited for me behind the front door. I knew she was home, I had heard her voice calling for me as she tottered across the hall, expectant, waiting for the good news.

There wasn’t any good news. There never would be now. The last train had left the station. Elvis had left the building. Oh crap, how was I going to tell her? ‘Hi honey, sorry I’m late, spent the day in the back garden thinking about what a fuck up I am.’ She would smile and nudge me playfully, saying how much she loved me, just the way I was. Bollocks.

My arse felt like a dead weight, but the weight was comforting. A day of vacancy had not given me closure, just a desperate sense of failure and despair. It was final. The last refusal I would ever take for the bloody team. Anger boiled. An anger I had supressed while I was alone bubbled to the surface as I thought of having to face the final humiliation. My fists clenched, my nails digging into my soft, uncalloused palms. As I hit the fence I realised the anger had propelled me out of the garden chair into pacing like a caged tiger. I shook out my fist; that bloody hurt. Throbbing and stumbling my dead legs paced faster and faster. My breathing had become short and irratic and I began to feel the effect in my brain. Had to sit down again.

I surveyed the house that was so nearly hers. Just four walls made of brick. Who got attached to a house anyway? Who bloody well cared? I was building myself up; distancing myself from all that I held familiar in an attempt to stop the hurt from penetrating too deep. I couldn’t give a fuck about the new sofa or the fridge freezer it had taken so long to save up for. I couldn’t give a fuck about the four wheel drive ready to pounce into action on the drive. Christ, I didn’t even give a fuck about her with her patronising manner and oh so perfect composure. What did I have to lose anyway? Absolutely nothing. Nothing I wanted that was for sure. I rose, slowly this time and headed round the side of the house. The wind was picking up.

“I got a virus.” I said as I stepped into the flourescent light of the kitchen.
“What on earth do you mean dear? They gave you some kind of promotion? That’s wonderful dear! You are such a fabulous author, but you know that, of course. We should celebrate! Look I can save this for another day, shall we go out for dinner? We can have champagne at De Rito’s! I’ll get myself ready!” She pranced around the room, oblivious to the true meaning of my words. I hung my head. What could I do? Her illusion was appealing, but my sense of failure didn’t have the energy to go along with it.
“Lilly, will you pack it in? For fuck’s sake! No bloody champagne! Did you hear what I said?”
“What dear? No champagne? Why ever not? You always were modest. Come on, live a little!”
I turned and stepped into the doorway. I couldn’t face a failure that refused to be heard. I would have to live with that on my own.
“I’m tired. I’m going to lay down for a while. Don’t come up.”
Walking away I could feel the virus creep up over my nose. For a moment it felt warm. Peaceful. But then I was drowning. My throat tightened as I struggled for air, my knees buckled and the room went black. Swimming and spinning I clutched at the wall, pulling objects over in a desperate attempt to stay vertical. It was no good.

Failure finally took over. An all encompassing darkness that never quite eased the pain, it simply prolonged it. Who knows how long I have been here. I wonder, did the rain come from the east? Fuck it.