thenervousthroat-blog

[thenervousthroat-blog]

I edited my story and am working out a lot of feelings through doing so. I am just going to keep throwing these up here.

1. They were made well aware of the flaws of their new home before they moved in but, somehow the repercussions they would experience from their poor choice in real-estate would still come as a surprise to Cassidy. The house was old and spacious. It was lined with the original hardwood flooring and the walls were decorated with various prints of outdated wallpaper that Diana found especially charming. (She would trace their patterns in boredom with her fanned fingertips after they had moved in.) The reason why the house was affordable to a couple like themselves was that the train line from Piccadilly ran very close to the house. At the time this had not been a blemish on their final decision to buy the house but later would become a foreseeable regret. 2. Diana and Cassidy had met 9 years ago at a punk show that Diana was reviewing for a home grown newspaper that she and a friend were putting together at the time. Cassidy had been fresh out of business school and a long term relationship when he caught sight of her in the crowd of people gathered around the band up front. It was between sets and Diana was laughing openly and her expression of receptiveness to what was happening around her drew Cassidy towards her. Neither could recall what he had said to gain her attention but they had taken to each other easily over the course of the night and had been together ever since. Diana had put on some weight since then and no longer wore leather collars but she still had a thrilling look in her eyes whenever she laughed that Cassidy loved. Cassidy was still handsome and lean. His nose had grown in size and he found that he now had to trim the creeping hairs that came with it but he largely did not have any complaints about being 34. Before moving into their new home their life together worked in a predictable rhythm. They would both wake up early to have coffee together before Cassidy would go off to work, while Diana would work from home reviewing music for a successful local magazine that she worked for. At 6 o’clock each evening Cassidy would return home and signal his wife to stop working so that they could cook and eat dinner together. They would talk about their days and on occasion go out together; this would mostly entail going out for drinks and seeing concerts for free through her work. It was a comfortable way of being that Diana had come to love after having the chaotic upbringing she endured. 3. After they had moved in the last of their things Diana began to notice a change in the air that she could not yet describe to herself, but she knew it unsettled her. She had mentioned this to her husband and was given a noncommittal, “Hmm,” in response. So Diana ignored what her gut was telling her. The worst part for them both was the train schedule. The train itself ran all day and night, and while at first it started as an inside joke between Diana and Cassidy it soon became more than that. As Cassidy began work on a new project for his company he would apologetically work late most nights. The unfamiliar feeling of a half empty bed and the sound of the train at night would keep Diana up until Cassidy came back home to her. The sound of the train passing back and forth all day and night had become a scar on Diana’s senses that she would anticipate prematurely even on the nights she did manage to fall asleep. Diana would start her ritual of drifting off into sleep while she waited for her husband… then without cause a knot would develop in her chest one beat off from the loud breathy hum of the train starting back into clockwork motion. She would wake up from this phenomenon and would have to get up and put a record on in the background before she could try and fall asleep again. Even then the records she would play would skip as the next train passed causing her to jerk awake again. On weekends when neither of them worked Cassidy would go see friends in the afternoon until late evening and Diana would on occasion call their mutual friend Ballard and go out for drinks. However the lack of sleep that she was experiencing gave her little energy to see anyone other than her husband on a regular basis. Instead she would explore the details of their new home: finding the best creaky floorboards and the best way to hang pictures on the walls without them rattling too much became her new pastime. The later that Cassidy worked the less she slept. This was apparent by the bags around her eyes that had a yellow sunken appearance to them this made her blue eyes pop electrically in a way that would surprise you if you were unaccustomed with her looks. This did not go unnoticed by her husband as he would take her round cheek in one of his large hands and say, “baby, you need to get some sleep.” But she could not. Diana missed Cassidy and his once familiar presence around her. She was reminded of an old loneliness from childhood that she wished to forget. 4. The predictable sound and shake of the house was now how she kept time with the world around her. Most of the clocks in the house all seemed to have different times on each one and Diana never felt the urge to fix them. When 7 or 8 o’clock rolled around after the train had passed and her husband was nowhere to be seen, she would use what small drive she had after a sleepless night to look through her husband’s things to try and find a clue of his affection for her. This habit had developed in a moment of insecurity one night when he had failed to come home before 3 in the morning. He said he was out with his friends on a work night drinking and he stunk sweetly enough of alcohol and cigarettes to prove one of those to be true. Now when he came home at night she found that she had a hard time of letting go of him for sleep. She would spend the night sniffing the space between his neck and shoulder while listening for the sound of the train passing in its well timed fashion. On a night that she could not distinguish from the rest Diana noticed the smell of perfume between the space of Cassidy’s neck and shoulder. She inhaled until the scent went dry and she could smell it no more. It was overly floral and unlike the solid fragrance of vanilla that she was habituated with. Her heart sank. 5. Most of what Diana found while searching through Cassidy’s things was either harmless or predictable. Even so everything felt too guiltless to be true and the growing anxiety she felt every day. Diana worked wearily at her desk and paid little attention to what she was writing. They rarely went to concerts together anymore that she was meant to go see but she thought it simple enough to bullshit her way through work. It mattered little to her now that her rhythmic life had been disrupted possibly by a mystic stranger while she had thought the man she loved was working hard for them both. When she did find something it was on sleepless parade one night after Cassidy had failed to show up. She had been looking through the pockets of his dress shirts in the laundry when she came across a blue post it note. It was crinkled and innocent enough that she almost threw it away. See you tomorrow. Bring some tunes. (a winking face) – Eliza Diana’s mind raced with legitimate possibilities for the note, but since she had never heard of an Eliza before she found it hard to breathe. She started hearing a loud ringing noise in her ear. What was going on? Her chest began to feel tight and she felt herself sitting down on the tiled laundry room floor before she knew what she was doing. She inspected the note at length; remarking to herself the pen color and the shape of the letters until the message was soaked forever in her memory. She wanted a better clue of what this note revealed. Diana stood up after she found her breath again and went to her office. She opened the drawer of her work desk and put the note away for safe keeping. 6. One day on the weekend Diana found herself alone again. Instead of allowing herself to feel disappointed Diana decided to take the opportunity to go through their record collection. She had not organized them the way that she liked them since the move and as she sat down she experienced a moment of content that she had not felt in a long time. She felt a deep appreciation for their records as her fingertips lightly traced the album art of each one. Whether they were old or new each one had played an important background role in her life. In the middle of organizing she rediscovered a UK pressing of a Leonard Cohen album that she had not listened to in a year or so. She dropped the needle at the beginning of the record and felt warmth in her belly as Cohen’s younger unbroken voice filled the room. Then as if on purpose the train sounded off in the distance and came rumbling by the house. The record skipped audibly. Diana flinched and stood up and went to place the needle where it was before but discovered that the record was scratched now. Frustrated and nervous to put it on again Diana returned the record to its sleeve. She sat there for a moment and took in the surrounding sea of records on the floor. All of it suddenly seemed so overwhelming and she could not breathe. When Cassidy came home later he found his wife crying on the floor with a record in hand. She looked up at him, “Where were you?” she sobbed. He kneeled down next to her and gave her a hug. “Where were you?” she asked again sounding more desperate than before. “I was out with a friend. I wasn’t gone that long. Are you OK?” Diana’s felt snot drooling out of her nose and a knot grew in her chest; the train was coming again she knew it. It was always going to be coming and going. The thought was too much to bear and she clung to her husband and started to wail. “I’m so tired! I am so tired! Why am I always alone?” Cassidy shushed her, “You need to calm down and take a breath. I’m right here. You’re not alone. This is stupid.” At the word stupid Diana felt herself shut down. She felt the emotional distance growing between her and her husband as soon as the word escaped his mouth. She stopped crying and looked over past Cassidy’s shoulder. Cassidy kissed the top of his wife’s head before he turned to pick an album off the floor. “We will get these cleaned up no problem.” Diana looked back at her husband picking up albums on his knees, then for a moment forgot why she was upset and smiled. Later after they cleaned up Diana had noticed that one of Cassidy’s favourite records was missing. “Where did your Marvin Gaye record go?” she asked double checking the shelf. “I don’t know,” Cassidy said with his back to her, “Must be there somewhere.” She looked again to make sure, “No it isn’t here.” Cassidy shrugged. Diana felt the tension in the room and she reflected on the post it note locked away in her desk drawer, “Do you think you lent it to someone?” her voice clearly searching for a different answer than what she was asking for. “Nope,” he said, “You want to make some coffee and I’ll start on dinner?” She knew he was keeping something from her but she was not strong enough to know what yet. 7. On a rare evening where Cassidy had decided to stay in their friend Ballard came over to visit. Ballard Beaufort was short for a man but he made up for it with his charm and good looks. He stood a foot below Cassidy and had reddish hair and deep green eyes that Diana felt comforted by when she looked into them while they spoke. The three of them were posted up in the living room having drinks when Diana noticed that the train had skipped its usual pattern. She looked to see if either of them had noticed. Cassidy continued speaking, but she noticed Ballard give her a smile. “Oh yeah,” he said interrupting Cassidy, “the train only stops like this if someone’s jumped onto the tracks.” “How do you know that?” Cassidy asked. “A guy I know used to work at the station. He says it doesn’t even take that long to clear up the body.” Diana was not sure if that was true but she felt something inside her tick at this new information. They continued talking well into the night, so long that Ballard decided to sleep drunkenly on their couch while Cassidy went upstairs to make love in their bedroom as they had not in months. While they made love Diana noticed a difference in her husband’s movements but said nothing. With each thrust and change in position she became aware of a familiar growing space inside herself; a safe pocket from the world where she could go when she felt like shutting down. She smiled sadly into her pillow as her husband came and felt herself falling finally into a deep sleep. 8. Dina had taken the day off from work one weekday after another sleepless night alone. Cassidy had come home late in the morning to change and take a shower and left after kissing his tired wife goodbye. Her skin felt hot and stunk to her no matter how many showers she took. She would anticipate the train coming by with shaking shoulders and whenever thoughts of her husband crossed her mind she would break down and cry. Was he with Eliza last night? Was her body soft but firm? Was she funnier than Diana? Did she pretend not to be sad unlike Diana? Was she a red head with small perfect breasts? Once Diana had enough of her own emotional beatings she went into their large kitchen and pulled out a tea pot and a cup for herself. She lit the gas stove and made a pot of herbal tea. “Yes, this will be good for me,” she thought. Only after she had finished her first cup she puked without warning on the floor. Diana could not help but scream. 9. Diana did not doubt that her husband still loved her. He would have left on his own if that was the case. This was something she trusted and strangely admired about him. Nevertheless she was not naïve enough to believe that his love canceled out his real desire for other women. It was something that she had come to understand about other people. No one felt the same way she did about who the loved. Maybe this was because of her upbringing or maybe she watched too many children movies, either way it did not matter now. When Diana found someone she loved Diana felt faithful in both body and spirit (even if it was not right for her). In this she felt her true solitude in the world. Diana noticed a change in attitude in Cassidy the more she questioned his whereabouts. She could not tell if it was out of guilt or genuine frustration from telling the truth repeatedly. When she discovered the Marvin Gaye record misplaced on her once perfectly organized shelf Diana wrestled with herself all night wondering what to do. She sat on the well worn sofa in the darkness of the living room listening to a Nina Simone record. Simone’s voice was welcomed in her troubled thoughts. She allowed the record skip at respective times, getting up to fix the repetitive notes when they happened. It was clear to her now what the truth was. She was alone. She still had a husband, but she was alone. And so was he. Everyone was alone and there was no cure for the loneliness childhood bred. There was nothing to do about it. Muttering to herself she got up and went to her office where she opened her unlocked her desk drawer. She pulled the drawer open and looked at the contents of her drawer: a couple old favourite photos of Cassidy, some pens she was keeping for herself, a bottle of half-empty antidepressants, and the post it note. The blue paper glowed in the darkness of the room. She was sure it would be easy to find the full name of an Eliza working in her husband’s office building, but what would she do then? Ask her out for coffee? No, of course not but, she still wanted to know. Diana pulled out her work computer and sat down at her desk. She went to the website of her husband’s work and searched it for employee profiles. It was a small enough business that she was sure that they would have a list of employees on the website as a way of seeming personable.  She was right. After finding Cassidy’s name she searched for Eliza. When she found her Diana was disappointed that there was no picture for her profile, but there was a last name: Eliza McDonald. The new knowledge of her full name sent Diana’s brain on fire. She opened up a new tab and looked up her name online but, she found very little personal information about the woman. Eliza McDonald. Eliza McDonald. Eliza McDonald. Diana would repeat her name like a sick person’s mantra in her thoughts between clear intellections. It would be a buzz in the back of her head and would only be silenced by the onset of the train. Her name would go down in personal history. Diana closed her computer and locked the post it note back in her drawer and returned to the sofa to cry. 10. Ballard surprised Diana by stopping by unannounced the next morning after Cassidy had gone to work. “Holy!” he exclaimed when Diana answered the door, “You look like shit.” Diana laughed and asked him what was going on. “I was in the neighborhood and that we could go out or something. Jeez, have you considered sleeping pills? You really look like—“ Diana shot him a look. “Say no more,” he laughed, “I was thinking we could go out to the park and have some beers. I also heard there is a show on tonight…” “Aha, I see. That’s what this is about. Free shows.” Ballard did not look the least bit ashamed of his blatant fishing, “You need to get out anyways. Come on. Get dressed and come have fun with me.” Diana had not been outside in what felt like too long of a time. The air was fresh and the sun felt like a familiar kiss on her skin. She felt awake and was even smiling and laughing with her friend. She did not understand why she could not do this before. They went out of their way to go to one of the nicer parks in the city and brought along a couple of beers for themselves and got sneakily tipsy in the park. She felt like she was in her twenties again as Ballard began making silly made up bird calls at the birds they saw flying overhead. Later in the evening after going along the water they made their way to the show that was being hosted at a small dive bar. The bar was packed and Diana found it difficult to squeeze her way to the front, but while she was here she might as well work, she thought. The headliner was a surf band from Chicago that’s shtick was that the singer was wrapped up in toilet paper trying to look like a crappy mummy. They were excellent though and because of that they were able to pull it off, had they not been though the mummy bit would have been a bit much. By the end of the set anyways he had sweated most of the toilet paper off and was throwing it at the crowd. Diana felt herself throwing her head back and laughing and she wished she could continue to feel this way. “What’s Cassidy been up to these days?” Ballard did not understand the weight of what he asked her. “Work,” she said bluntly unsure of what she wanted to say to her friend. They talked and drank until Cassidy came home. He too seemed drunk. He saw Ballard, plunked down next to him and threw an arm around him. Diana looked at them both interacting with one another and felt a familiar pain in her chest. She wondered why her husband was drunk on a Wednesday night but decided not to ask. After all she was drunk too.

#unfinished #short story #deirdre sokolowski #blegh

[thenervousthroat-blog]

I wrote a really bad short story to get out some of my dumb feelings (gah)

KEEPING TIME BY DEIRDRE SOKOLOWSKI

1. Diana and Cassidy were made well aware of the major flaws in their home before they moved in but somehow the repercussions they would experience from their poor choice in real-estate would still come as a surprise to Cassidy even still. The house was old and spacious: lined with the original hardwood flooring and the walls were decorated with various prints of outdated wallpaper that Diana found especially charming. The primary reason that the house was within reach of a young couple like themselves was that the train line ran very close to the house. At the time this had not been a blemish on their final decision to buy the house but later would become a timely regret. 2. They had met 9 years ago at a show that Diana was reviewing for a home grown newspaper that she and a friend were putting together at the time. Cassidy was fresh out of business school and a long term relationship when he caught sight of her in the crowd of people gathered around the band up front. Diana was laughing openly and her expression of receptiveness to what was happening around her drew Cassidy towards her. They both could not recall what he had said to gain her attention but they had taken to each other rapidly over the course of the evening and had been together ever since. They both were aging well; Diana had put on some weight since then and no longer wore leather collars but she still had a thrilling look in her eyes when she laughed that Cassidy loved. Cassidy was handsome and lean and only his nose had grown in size and he found that he now had to trim the creeping hairs that came with it.   Now that they were 34 they both found that they worked in a predictable rhythm together. They would both wake up early to have coffee together before Cassidy would go off to work downtown, while Diana would work from home reviewing music for a successful local magazine that she worked for. At 5:30 each evening Cassidy would come home and signal his wife to stop working so that they could cook and eat dinner together. They would talk about their days and on occasion go out together or have their friend Ballard over. It was an easy way of being that Diana had come to love after having the chaotic upbringing she had endured.

3. When they moved to their new home there was a change in the air that Diana could not yet describe to herself, but she knew it unsettled her. Cassidy began working an hour later each day with hugs and kisses for apologies and their dinners became less elaborate. The sound of the train was the worst part for Diana. The sound of the train passing back and forth all day and night became a scar on Diana’s senses that she would anticipate prematurely even in her sleep. While Cassidy worked late at the office Diana would now start he ritual of drifting off into sleep while she waited for him… then without cause a knot would develop in her chest one beat off from the loud breathy hum of the train starting back into clockwork motion. She would wake up from this phenomenon and have to get up and go downstairs to work in her office until Cassidy finally came home. Sleep deprived and unusually sad, Diana still did not feel that she had any other place that she could be. 4. Over time Diana showed signs of unwellness. The bags around her eyes had grown and now had a yellow sunken appearance to them that made her blue eyes pop electrically in a way that surprised you if you were unaccustomed with her looks. She had gained a few extra pounds out of nervous eating habits from staying up late with nothing much else to do then wait for her husband. The predictable sound and shake of the train was now how she kept time with the world around her. She had fallen back on her work from her lack of energy and now used what small pep she had to look through her husband’s things to find a clue of his affection for her. When he came home at night she found that she had a hard time letting go of him for sleep and would spend the night sniffing the space between his neck and shoulder while listening to the sound of the train passing in its well timed fashion. On a night that Diana could not distinguish from the rest she noticed the smell of perfume between the space of Cassidy’s neck and shoulder. She inhaled until the scent went dry and she could smell it no more. It was overly sweet and unlike the solid fragrance that she was habituated with. It was not hers. Her heart skipped a beat. 5. Most of what Diana found while searching her husband’s things was either harmless or predictable. Even so everything felt too guiltless to be true to the growing anxiety she felt every day. Diana disregarded the clocks in their home and counted her hours of work in number of trains gone by. She felt too tired to pay much attention to what she was writing and rarely went out to see the live music like she was meant to. This reflected badly on her work and she was eventually given a warning by her co-worker on the quality of work that they were receiving. This mattered very little to Diana as she already felt that her rhythmic life had already fallen apart without the presence of the man she loved. 6. One night in a sleepless parade around their home after Cassidy had failed to show up Diana uncovered one of his dress shirts in the laundry room. The faint print of a lipstick stain around the collar of the blue shirt was almost too obvious to be true. She inspected the stain at length; remarking to herself the shade of purple used and the shape it made until it was soaked into her memory. Diana took the shirt and hid it in her desk drawer until she could catch her breath. 7. On their next day off from work Diana after a late lunch came up with the courage to address her doubts and fears. “I found this in the laundry…” Diana said producing the blue dress shirt from behind her back nervously. “Is this why you have been working late?” Cassidy looked up from the book he was reading and gave his wife a look of dislike, “What?” The bottom of her stomach dropped, “Is this why you have been working so late? I found this in the laundry and it has a lipstick stain on it.” “You have got to be kidding me,” he said exasperatedly. “What are you talking about?” “This,” she shook the shirt in front of him, “There is a lipstick stain on it. I don’t wear lipstick,” her words were shaky and tears started to stream down her face from the mixed feelings she was having. Was she wrong? “What?” he said. She threw the shirt at him crying, “Why are you working so late? Why don’t I see you anymore?” “Baby,” he started, “Baby, we’re spending time together right now.” “Why are you working so late?” she could feel herself having a hard time breathing but kept pressing, “I feel like I’m going crazy in here by myself all of the time. Where are you?” Cassidy got up from the couch and went to his wife and took her in his arms. “Baby, I’m right here. I love you. Stop crying.” Diana clung to his shirt and choked out sobs until she felt the wetness of her hot tears smeared all across her face. She withdrew herself and looked up at him after wiping her eyes. “I’m working late because work is busy and I made friends at work and I want us to have our own lives outside of each other. Don’t you think that’s healthy?” Diana stayed silent. “I love you,” he told her bringing her back to himself in a one-sided hug. “But what about the lipstick?” “Don’t you remember you were wearing some last week before we went to see Ballard at his place?” Diana didn’t remember. It could be possible. Anything feels possible when you are sleepless. “I don’t know…” “See,” he said tightening his hold on her. “Everything is OK. I love you,” he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. Diana felt dizzy from her thoughts but chose to accept the reality that was being given to her for the time being. After all, she thought, she had not slept soundly in a long time maybe she was seeing connections where there were none. 8. The next day after Cassidy left for work Diana out of curiosity checked her make-up bag. She found no tubes of lipstick that she could remember using within the last 3 years. All of them seemed too cakey to be something she would have considered using and none of them seemed about the right shade that she remembered. The only reason she kept them around was because they were gifts and she was cheap. Diana sat on the bathroom floor with the open make-up bag on her lap gazing into the nothingness before her. She rarely wore make-up unless going out, so there was a slight possibility she thought that she had impulsively worn some to Ballard’s. She couldn’t be sure. Every day seemed like an impossible blur. She did not doubt that her husband loved her still, but she was not naïve enough to believe that this canceled out his real desire for other woman. It was something that she had come to understand about other people; no one felt quite like her about who they loved. In this she felt her true solitude in the world. When Diana found someone that she loved Diana felt faithful in both body and spirit. An important distinction from others that she had to wrestle with more often than one would think as a married woman. Restless Diana got up and went to the kitchen with her make-up bag in hand and dialed the number of their friend Ballard to ask him out for drinks that evening. 9. Ballard Beaufort was short for a man but made up for it with his beautiful face and charm. He stood a foot below Cassidy and had reddish hair and deep green eyes that Diana felt comforted by when she looked into them while they spoke. He enthusiastically agreed to drinks with her and was generous with the pour of her glass with their pitcher of beer. She knew she was a dear friend of his without much persuasion to this fact. They chatted affably about their work projects and gossiped lightly about local artists they knew of before Diana had the guts to talk honestly with him. She asked him if he had any idea what she or Cassidy were wearing the night they last came round to his place. She was hoping for some clue of either her own insanity or Cassidy’s two-faced nature. Ballard’s comely features screwed up in bemusement before he told her he had no idea. “Oh,” she said obviously disappointed. Ballard took a drink from his pint and smiled hollowly at her, “It’s probably not important anyways. You should try to have a good time more often and work on a project. I don’t know the last time I heard you play music yourself. It would be good for you to be more positive.” Diana’s chest felt empty and she smiled weakly back at him before taking a drink of the pint in front of her. The alcohol did nothing to ease her worries and only served to remind her how tired she was. “Thanks,” she said, “I’ll try that.” While they talked Diana was sorely reminded that Ballard was more Cassidy’s friend than her own. Diana returned home late to an empty house. 10. Diana’s skin was flush from lack of sleep. Her nerves were shaky as she anticipated the train passing like a constant buzzing in her own ear. When she tried to combat her fatigue with cups of black coffee she felt her stomach become upset with her.   She could barely remember if she had seen her husband in the last 48 hours or not. Her memory was doubtful at this point and all she could do was cry when he crossed her mind. She imagined him in all sorts of entanglements with a mysterious woman that he desired more than her. Was he happier with her? Did she make him laugh like she could? Was she thinner? Diana imagined the body of the woman to be soft but firm and her breasts small and perky and maybe her hair was red because that’s what men seemed to like. She could not compare to that even in her younger days, she thought. The only thing that grounded her in time was a call she received from work telling her that she was fired if she did not start putting the work in. Diana hung up the phone and mindlessly went to the upstairs bathroom to draw a hot bath. She put on her favorite Leonard Cohen record on in the other room and sunk into the steaming water. She quickly passed out in the tub until the water grew cold shaking her awake. Diana got out of the bath without drying herself off and went to the other room and flipped the record over. She sat wet on the floor while listening intently to the music until it skipped as the train passed by. Diana could not help but scream.

11. The stained dress shirt remained hidden in her locked desk drawer in her office. She would pull it out on occasion and feel a tide of rage wash over her. Looking at that old stain gave her energy. Her body would shake and she would see an explosive collection of evidence connecting like a constellation before her. Late nights leading to lipstick stains and perfumed necks and then of course his emotional distancing was all too much. In those moments Diana would shake her husband awake to accuse him of hurting her. These charges would often be met with disgust for the insecurity she showed him. Her impulsive behaviour was one of the few things that Cassidy found unlikable about his wife.   “I’m not crazy,” she would say before his silence would cause a feeling of guilt in her stomach. Was she crazy? It seemed that only in her white hot rage was she clear of anything anymore but even that she could not trust. After, Cassidy would take Diana into his arms where she would lay awake all night. She listened for the metronomic sound of the train, her eyes wide and telling as she felt no consolation from the heat of her husband’s body spooning and trapping her from behind. “I love you,” he would say. “I love you too,” she would eventually mumble back because it was still true. 12. Months later Diana was sitting up in bed staring off into space half listening for the sound of the front door. Cassidy had been making more of an effort to come home earlier to see his tired wife but there were still times where he would leave her hanging on doubtfully by herself. Part of her felt the effort came too late. After all the signs of an affair were building up to be more than just a lipstick stain and some perfume but it was still not enough to make her realize the truth just yet: she was already alone. Still she accepted his warmth when offered and felt herself glow under his touch. The only times she really slept was after they would make love in bed and even then the train still woke her up. 13. The train sped across the tracks again at 11:05 that evening shaking the house to life. The motion was almost hypnotic in her insomniac state and Diana felt herself get up before she even thought to do it. Suddenly she felt that she had to see the train. She must go see it. Barely remembering to put on her slip on shoes Diana left their home. The front door left ajar. The station was not far from where they lived, maybe a 20 minute walk away. She could make it there in time for the next trip, she thought. It was as if a string was pulling her forward from the center of a chest in the direction of her fate. There was nothing she could do now but follow it as everything in her life came zooming in at her as a mesmeric spell of sounds. She was alone as she and everyone always was; this she was certain of at last and it made no difference what happened next. To believe anything else would be delusional, she thought. As she came to the station she barely noticed how empty it was. It was Monday night and most people had already gotten to where they needed to be for the evening. The trains however she knew never rested. They were always there and ready for her only she had not yielded to them fully until now. Diana continued to walk towards the empty cue for the train, her shoes slapping against the tiled floors as the wind coming through the station blew up her night shirt. She felt her eyelids become heavy and she allowed her eyes to shut as she felt herself fall off the edge and onto the metal rails. There was a distant cry from above her, but she had lost consciousness and the train hit her at full force. 14. Cassidy noted the open front door when he came home and called out for Diana as he took off his jacket. The house was remarkably quiet to what he was used to even at the late hour it was. Normally if his wife could not sleep a record would be playing softly in the background or the passing train would fill the house with a steady source of vibration. However neither was present in this moment. Cassidy checked each room for his wife and felt sadly alone. He wanted nothing more in that moment than to crawl guiltily into bed with his wife and to feel her light touch on his bare back. The house by itself was a depressant for him. After he learned the house was completely vacant of Diana he decided to crawl into bed by himself in the dead quietness that allowed him to sleep.

#short story #deirdre sokolowski #unedited #ffff

[thenervousthroat-blog]

I forgot I wrote this.

I never want you to die, Leonard Cohen.

I have said before how Leonard Cohen’s music affects me like the sex that I long to have; inscrutable worshipping to a pair of souls and privates. The closest instance I had was a long evening where I and another person played Leonard Cohen’s greatest hits in the background at four in the morning while we explored each other fruitlessly. The music played behind us softly and I thought I was there before I pulled the red blanket off my embarrassed lover and lost Leonard Cohen to this person. That was very fine at the time, but alone I can find a hollow in my imagination when I listen to his music that allows me to deeply finger feelings I neglect– spiritual, maybe phantasmal and easily sexual and romantic without that awkward smile on my lips when I am spoken to directly. I could probably with enough energy from my mind cum from listening to Leonard Cohen’s music. His voice vibrates down to my crotch and comforts something still wet and soft inside me that is untouched by my simple depression and anxieties.

[thenervousthroat-blog]

Coffee stained teeth Broken molars It has always been hard to breathe You have a lot weighing on your shoulders Living in the eyes of someone else They want you wild and reserved And never owned by anyone but themselves Their own undisturbed waters But you are dour and unreliable You are euphoric and messy You love to eat in bed and watch TV You are kind but sneaky You are complete and unseen

[thenervousthroat-blog]

There are no stars to guide me In the stone pit of my broken heart I am alone and far from free I was born to be a mouthpart For men who could not be tender

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He will compliment you on the clothes that you wear He will take you in the darkness of your shared bedroom But he also will think of a girl named Claire (that isn't you) In the smoke of his tomb You will be no less than an heirloom In his old age A forgotten perfume From backstage

[thenervousthroat-blog]

I wrote a song but don’t know how to record and am also terrible at playing/singing anyways.

C Am F G

C                     Am On the beach in July F             G                       C               She told me she would die by twenty five Am                   F                G Her words touched me like a suicide    C Suicide       Am               F                   G That was when when she liked Bukowski      C And clementines Am           F                G             C Short and sweet like the time of a mayfly Am                   F                 G We span under stars with red wine     C                    Am We were young and wishful      F                  G               C Even though many times we were tearful        Am                  F             G She could not care for her heart of glass C              Am            F But she loved mine into gold     G            C           Am           F Our kind were not built by God to last G            C               Am               F Our kind were not built by God to last G            C           Am             F She could not care for her heart of glass G            C Heart of Glass      Am             F              G Our Kind were not built by God to last C             Am Built by God to last

F G C A M F G

#chords #song #deirdre sokolowski #I wrote a song?

[thenervousthroat-blog]

On the beach in July She told me she would die by twenty five Her words touched me like a suicide That was when when she liked Bukowski And clementines Short and sweet like the time of a mayfly We span under stars with red wine lips We were young and wishful Even though many times we were tearful

She could not care for her heart of glass But she loved mine into gold Our kind were not built by God to last Our kind were not built by God to last

[thenervousthroat-blog]

I am putting together a zine about friend breakups. About being on either side of the breakup whether you are the one being dumped or the person dumping. I am looking for personal stories about friend breakups and tips and things that people have learned from their experiences in these situations.

ZINE SUBMISSION DEADLINE IS MARCH 24TH. Send all submissions to [email protected] in an attachment.

[thenervousthroat-blog]

The Corpse Flower (rough draft intro)

Helen was not specially beautiful even for her age. At 35 years old she lacked the self-esteem and poise that many of the women around her held in their careers or family lives. She was unreliable financially and a precariously emotional person; and that was where the beauty drained from her face like blood. Joseph thought this while looking at her as she turned to him in bed at the start and end of each day.

They had met three years ago by chance on the subway in Toronto and only started living together in a serious manner within the last five months though most of Helen’s things had already been moved in by that time. Before living together his lover’s effusive manners in their relationship used to charm him (like bringing him unasked for bottles of wine home), but now that they were together more and more the less practical and enamouring he found her behaviour. When she brought home three or more “samples” from the skin care shop she worked at after one of her shifts, he often felt himself wanting to ask to see receipts for the luxuriously scented hand creams she smoothed onto his cracked hands after he came in from working outside. However, he would only push his feelings of unease down into his gut where it would gnaw at him in further signs showing in indigestion. 

#rough draft #random writing #whatever

[thenervousthroat-blog]

I wrote this song. It took me a long time. I’m not very musically talented, but what can you do. Song writing and preforming is very difficult for me so I’m proud I did this whether anyone likes it or not.

This was for Matt, he didn’t seem to like it very much but what can ya do, eh?

[thenervousthroat-blog]

I am looking to put together a zine about local businesses in Ottawa. I am looking for people that have worked at local businesses that have had complicated experiences or advice for working for a local business. I have had some pretty negative experiences working local recently and in the past and am interested in seeing what people have to say about working for them. It can be an unconventional working space to navigate through compared to bigger businesses. I am not looking for pure rants about working local but would be interested in hearing people's experiences and what they have learned from working for them and what advice they have for others that are treading in the same area. If you would like to contribute feel free to get in touch with me through e-mail at [email protected]. Your submissions can be anonymous of course.

[thenervousthroat-blog]

Writing dialogue can be so intimidating....

[thenervousthroat-blog]

Work in progress...

1.

Piper could not say concisely why she continued to feel the way she felt without explaining an entirely different situation from the one she was living in. Reasons and memories easily became a kaleidoscope landscape leading into seemingly never ending change in her life. She was only twenty and already she felt suspiciously tired.

Piper moved to Manchester late in the fall semester for university. Only she found herself quickly not caring about academia and only went to her classes when she was looking for a quiet and free place to think amongst others. She lived on an all female floor in a dorm that had been assigned to her on the campus in the downtown area close to Piccadilly station. The sound of the trains passing back and forth by her building all day and night became a scar on her senses that she would anticipate prematurely even in her sleep. Piper would begin to drift off into sleep then without any cause a knot would develop in her chest one beat off from the loud breathy hum of the train starting back into its clockwork motion. She would often wake from this phenomenon and have to get up and go to the communal kitchen and make herself a cup of hot water. Piper did not feel that she had any other place that she could be.

The other girls living on her floor were mostly partying types that were enjoying their first year of university socializing in a way that Piper felt removed from. In the past they had thought to include her on their clubbing excursions and without much notice had stopped asking her along.

The change came so quickly that Piper hardly noticed their new indifference to her.

Those early weeks were spent largely on a disorder of emotions. Piper felt lonely but was unable to connect to people effectively. She could not understand what people were relating to her so nothing added up to sense in her mind. The girls on her floor would lament boyfriend and skin care problems to one another and Piper would only feel encouraged in her aloneness. She had never kissed a boy and still did not understand her own shower regime, so she bought her first bottle of whiskey and two potted plants from the Tesco across the way from her dorm and ate her meals alone in her room.

2.

Despite being an all female floor there was Arnav. He was another first year student in the same building and had been given the challenge of taking care of the other students needs. This mostly included organizing pub crawls and helping students that were locked out of their rooms at all hours of the night. Students would go to the front desk and use the phone there and press four to be directed to his landline. Eventually Arnav would come down and find your magnetic room key behind the secured desk area and help you back inside before returning your magnetic card to it’s respective spot.

Piper and Arnav had met on Halloween on one of the few nights that the girls on her floor had invited her out. Arnav had organized a club night for the dorm for the evening and was playing host in the common area where everyone had chosen to pre-drink.

Piper had been wearing a costume she made herself last minute the day before. Her hair was spray painted orange and she was wearing a paper mache model of the solar system as a headset. The red retro dress she was wearing from Primark was made of an uncomfortable polyester material and was creating a rash on the back of her legs.

Arnav spotted Piper across the groups of talking people and went over to go speak to her. She had been standing by herself with her back to the vending machine with her arms crossed. Her face though was searching the thin air around her with a weak smile that Arnav understood to be a simple awkwardness.

“What are you supposed to be?” he asked her.

“Miss Frizzle from The Magic School Bus,” Piper said her smile pursing from her own discomfiture.

“Who? Someone from the Magic Bus?”

It took a moment for them to realize the confusion of her costume was that The Magic School Bus was a beloved children’s cartoon show in Canada and the Magic Bus was the main bus line in Manchester. Piper would have understood the joke better had she used the buses to go to any number of her classes. “You’re not like other girls are you?” Arnav said with a glittering look.

Instead of feeling flattered Piper felt irritated by his assumption. “Like other girls,” she flexed, “do you just mean that I am not expressing my sexuality in a way that pleases you personally? And that you think that women in general are ridiculous and that you get to decide that I am the magical exception?” Piper paused, “I don’t find that sort of way of talking to be complimentary.”

Arnav laughed and only said, “Bloody hell!” before walking off to join the rest of the party.

Piper smiled genuinely at his outburst, but spent the rest of the night dancing in small huddles of girls on the dance floor. She surprised herself by drinking until the club was closed. On her way back to her building she tripped and scathed her knee on the stone walk away outside the entrance. Her head was spinning and she could feel the warmth of the blood running down her knee but all she could do was laugh.

[thenervousthroat-blog]

Working on a new short story...

Piper could not say concisely why she continued to feel the way she felt without explaining an entirely different situation from the one she was living in. Reasons and memories easily became a kaleidoscope landscape leading into seemingly never ending change in her life. She was only just twenty and already she felt suspiciously tired.

Piper moved to Manchester late in the fall semester for university. Only she found herself quickly not caring about academia and only went to her classes when she was looking for a quiet and free place to think amongst others. She lived on an all female floor in a dorm that had been assigned to her on the campus in the downtown area close to Piccadilly station. The sound of the trains passing back and forth by her building all day and night became a scar on her senses that she would anticipate prematurely even in her sleep. Piper would begin to drift off into sleep then without any cause a knot would develop in her chest one beat off from the loud breathy hum of the train starting back into its clockwork motion. She would often wake from this phenomenon and have to get up and go to the communal kitchen and make herself a cup of hot water. Piper did not feel that she had any other place that she could be. 

[thenervousthroat-blog]

Holes in my memories Wasted mayflies on river beds I sit and dwindle like starlight on my bed I'm unaccompanied and weak for it IN MY JUDGMENT Holes in my memories Did I throw a punch Pick a scab Or did I blow perfumed kisses Onto a lonely pillow case Holes in my memories ....

[thenervousthroat-blog]

I will be selling my new short story in booklet form at the Cool Kids Craft Sale Ver.2 at Pressed on the 9th of September from 7 until 11 PM. Come grab a copy!