deepundergroundpoetry.com
First Night In A New Place
It is quiet, far too quiet for me. The static stillness of the country gives the impression of time slowing down. I find a beer in the fridge, sit on the sofa bed and drink. I don't want to go to sleep. Sleep frightens me. My recovery from the attack took several years. Surgery. Knee problems from the impact of the bar. Headaches, double vision. I had to surrender my driving licence for a while, and I never played rugby or soccer again.
I slip in to an old jumper and a pair of boxer shorts, and climb into bed, but for much of the night I remain awake, reading but struggling to concentrate, my thoughts going back to Gordon Day and the estate in Whaley where we grew up with our other friend Craig Winters. At around two thirty in the morning, the text on the page becomes blurry and I begin to drift into a series of dreams, mostly about Gordon. In one of the dreams, Gordon and I are standing at opposite ends in the estate car park, both in our navy secondary school uniforms. I go over to talk to him, but he turns his back on me.
When I wake to the clock radio and weather forecast and the sound of someone slamming the main door in the entrance hallway, I can still see Gordon, an older Gordon with scraggly shoulder length hair and the beginnings of a moustache this time, standing by an open garage with a couple of lads, scowling at me from across the estate car park. He looks at one of the boys and laughs, then kicks an empty coke can at a garage door before pulling out a crumpled packet of cigarettes from his trouser pocket and lighting one with a match.
I slip in to an old jumper and a pair of boxer shorts, and climb into bed, but for much of the night I remain awake, reading but struggling to concentrate, my thoughts going back to Gordon Day and the estate in Whaley where we grew up with our other friend Craig Winters. At around two thirty in the morning, the text on the page becomes blurry and I begin to drift into a series of dreams, mostly about Gordon. In one of the dreams, Gordon and I are standing at opposite ends in the estate car park, both in our navy secondary school uniforms. I go over to talk to him, but he turns his back on me.
When I wake to the clock radio and weather forecast and the sound of someone slamming the main door in the entrance hallway, I can still see Gordon, an older Gordon with scraggly shoulder length hair and the beginnings of a moustache this time, standing by an open garage with a couple of lads, scowling at me from across the estate car park. He looks at one of the boys and laughs, then kicks an empty coke can at a garage door before pulling out a crumpled packet of cigarettes from his trouser pocket and lighting one with a match.
Published 23rd Jan 2021
Author's Note
From my first novel Secrets (published in 2011). At the start of the present time frame, 35-yr-old Alan has to return to his native town in north west England for a while
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 3
reading list entries 2
comments 8
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23rd Jan 2021 7:51pm
Dear Lozzamus,
Your description makes the reader lives with you and your characters in the animated place which you describe.
Your description makes the reader lives with you and your characters in the animated place which you describe.
24th Jan 2021 10:15pm
Many thanks, Joseph. I particularly enjoy creating place and mood in my writing. By contrast, I struggle with plot.
23rd Jan 2021 8:12pm
You have a wonderful way with words, Lozzamus. I love how you always weave inbetween the past and present, as though the entire thing is a dream itself. It always leaves you wanting more, and most definitely wish you knew what happened.
24th Jan 2021 10:28pm
Thanks very much, Ahavati. I enjoying conveying mood, atmosphere and scene - but unfortunately, this caused issues with some of the editors I worked with, many preferring "cut to the chase", more dialogue, no dreams, intuition or flashbacks just ACTION.
30th Jan 2021 3:34am
Dear L,
Really? (Reading your response to Ahavati) The editors wanted you to cut that? This is the problem with the world today. No build up. No story line. Just action and shoot ‘em up noise. I dislike that immensely. I love the building of your characters and the detail that creates the “on the edge of my seat” feeling. That’s what mystery is. Oy! 🙄
I think this is marvelous. H🌷
Really? (Reading your response to Ahavati) The editors wanted you to cut that? This is the problem with the world today. No build up. No story line. Just action and shoot ‘em up noise. I dislike that immensely. I love the building of your characters and the detail that creates the “on the edge of my seat” feeling. That’s what mystery is. Oy! 🙄
I think this is marvelous. H🌷
30th Jan 2021 10:08pm
Thanks so much, Honoria. The whole thing with the editors left me drained and frustrated, but I still write and I hope to publish another work at some point.
17th Feb 2021 11:55pm
Great writing! Editors often have no idea what readers want. Maybe they just spend too much time reading all day and get cross-eyed from too many words in their field of vision...
Yes, please keep writing.
Yes, please keep writing.
18th Feb 2021 10:41pm
