Home
-----A cold shower falls; I tug my crimson jacket tighter against my body. I hate my boss for keeping me past curfew. Cleaning up after the blaukaulas, they’re always yelling, hollering for more drinks and always quicker. They grab, pinch and slap at me. It was a pretty quick night, up until we closed, and the cleaning needed done. That was what took an eternity, and now here I am in the rain. I stop and find myself looking at poster on the side of a little café. “Draconian Cigarettes…Take The Edge Off,” it pictures the side view of a cool silhouetted man leaning back in an office chair behind a big desk, smoking against a twilight blue background. It takes my mind off the rain until I hear heavy boot steps.
-----I look around for the source of the steps, and see no one, just my imagination running untamed again. I return to my journey home, and again I hear the grave clap of boots against the downpour. I start walking faster, pulling again at my jacket. The boots reciprocate, and now my nerves begin to get the better of me. I glance over my shoulder and see nothing, but I hear what feels like everything. I break into a run, my purse swinging wildly from its strap around my shoulder. Again, I hear the sound of steps catching up with me at a frantic pace. My lungs burn, calves ache, feet throbbing. I duck into the nearest alley to catch my breath. Back against the cold, damp brick I close my eyes and take several deep breaths.
-----“Identification…Please.” A small gasp escapes me. I open my eyes to see an officer of the Iron Corps standing before me. “Identification…Please,” I start fretfully looking through my purse for my wallet. I find it, and hand the officer my card. Rain plinks and plunks against the fire escapes of the buildings on either side of the alleyway and it echoes around me. I look into its glass eyes, tinted owl like lenses, the only feature on the steel helm. “Dodgson, April…Are you aware that it is approximately one hour, and twenty-three minutes past curfew?”
-----“Yes,” I roll my eyes and suddenly see it reflected back at me in the tinted glass of its lenses.
-----“You are...On your way home…Correct Ms. Dodgson?” Its voice is a deep mechanic monotone, underscored by heavy breathing. Its figure is thin and dressed in a high collared dim naval coat.
-----“Yes,” I answer, frustrated. It raises its hand to strike me, and I instinctively clinch up, feeling the sharp sting of the hand across my face.
-----“Tone… Ms. Dodgson…Now, you better hurry…Home. The weather…appears to be taking a…Turn for the worse,” as though on cue a clap of thunder shakes the night skies. I glance up and without a sound, the officer is gone. I wonder what’s in there, if it’s a man or something else. I’d heard a few hushed rumors about the Iron Corps, but that’s all I thought they were, just rumors. I’d never actually seen one before, at least not this close. They’re always in the parades every few months, people cheer for them and all they do is march together in an impossibly straight line, showing not an ounce of emotion. If they’re not automatons, then they sure are good at acting like it.
-----I’m home; my apartment is plastered with movie posters, some of them are pre-war. I take off my coat and throw it on the couch. I turn the radio on and head towards the bathroom.
-----“Good evening ladies and gentlemen, this is The Signal. The date is Tuesday, October Second, 1962 and the time is twelve thirty. We have received word from Axis that worker rations are expected to be increased by thirty percent sometime in January. In other news, the rain is scheduled to continue until sometime between nine and ten tomorrow night, you are listening to The Signal. Purity through vigilance, security through faith.” I turn the volume up on the radio as the music fades in, and peruse through my medicine cabinet. It’s filled with minute copper canisters, some are open and pills lie about each shelf. Each canister is nearly identical, white label with black type and a large red Axis logo.
-----Smilers, they’re my favorites. Teeny tiny yellow black pills, I swallow two of them and place the canister back amongst the others. I look at myself in the mirror, and begin to examine my features. My lengthy black hair and my hazel-in-autumn-light eyes. I have an audition in two days, and the nearer it draws, the more anxious and self-conscious I find myself. I’ve always wanted to be an actress, and now I feel that I have the opportunity, but I’m so tense. I grow unsure if I can face failure as the days pass. I look at myself in the mirror again. “I can do anything,” I tell myself. “I must do anything, anything to prevent this opportunity from slipping away.”
so yeah, do you guys like it? anythoughts? sorry about the little dash marks, i cant figure out the indentation or whatever on here.
-----I look around for the source of the steps, and see no one, just my imagination running untamed again. I return to my journey home, and again I hear the grave clap of boots against the downpour. I start walking faster, pulling again at my jacket. The boots reciprocate, and now my nerves begin to get the better of me. I glance over my shoulder and see nothing, but I hear what feels like everything. I break into a run, my purse swinging wildly from its strap around my shoulder. Again, I hear the sound of steps catching up with me at a frantic pace. My lungs burn, calves ache, feet throbbing. I duck into the nearest alley to catch my breath. Back against the cold, damp brick I close my eyes and take several deep breaths.
-----“Identification…Please.” A small gasp escapes me. I open my eyes to see an officer of the Iron Corps standing before me. “Identification…Please,” I start fretfully looking through my purse for my wallet. I find it, and hand the officer my card. Rain plinks and plunks against the fire escapes of the buildings on either side of the alleyway and it echoes around me. I look into its glass eyes, tinted owl like lenses, the only feature on the steel helm. “Dodgson, April…Are you aware that it is approximately one hour, and twenty-three minutes past curfew?”
-----“Yes,” I roll my eyes and suddenly see it reflected back at me in the tinted glass of its lenses.
-----“You are...On your way home…Correct Ms. Dodgson?” Its voice is a deep mechanic monotone, underscored by heavy breathing. Its figure is thin and dressed in a high collared dim naval coat.
-----“Yes,” I answer, frustrated. It raises its hand to strike me, and I instinctively clinch up, feeling the sharp sting of the hand across my face.
-----“Tone… Ms. Dodgson…Now, you better hurry…Home. The weather…appears to be taking a…Turn for the worse,” as though on cue a clap of thunder shakes the night skies. I glance up and without a sound, the officer is gone. I wonder what’s in there, if it’s a man or something else. I’d heard a few hushed rumors about the Iron Corps, but that’s all I thought they were, just rumors. I’d never actually seen one before, at least not this close. They’re always in the parades every few months, people cheer for them and all they do is march together in an impossibly straight line, showing not an ounce of emotion. If they’re not automatons, then they sure are good at acting like it.
-----I’m home; my apartment is plastered with movie posters, some of them are pre-war. I take off my coat and throw it on the couch. I turn the radio on and head towards the bathroom.
-----“Good evening ladies and gentlemen, this is The Signal. The date is Tuesday, October Second, 1962 and the time is twelve thirty. We have received word from Axis that worker rations are expected to be increased by thirty percent sometime in January. In other news, the rain is scheduled to continue until sometime between nine and ten tomorrow night, you are listening to The Signal. Purity through vigilance, security through faith.” I turn the volume up on the radio as the music fades in, and peruse through my medicine cabinet. It’s filled with minute copper canisters, some are open and pills lie about each shelf. Each canister is nearly identical, white label with black type and a large red Axis logo.
-----Smilers, they’re my favorites. Teeny tiny yellow black pills, I swallow two of them and place the canister back amongst the others. I look at myself in the mirror, and begin to examine my features. My lengthy black hair and my hazel-in-autumn-light eyes. I have an audition in two days, and the nearer it draws, the more anxious and self-conscious I find myself. I’ve always wanted to be an actress, and now I feel that I have the opportunity, but I’m so tense. I grow unsure if I can face failure as the days pass. I look at myself in the mirror again. “I can do anything,” I tell myself. “I must do anything, anything to prevent this opportunity from slipping away.”
so yeah, do you guys like it? anythoughts? sorry about the little dash marks, i cant figure out the indentation or whatever on here.
