Thursday December 10th, 2015

The exercise:

Write about something or someone that is: restrained.

Max had a good day at... you know what? Maybe I should just be clear, up front, that the prompt has nothing to do with anything that happened today. I feel like maybe that's a good idea.

Anyway. Max had a good day at daycare today. The Mean Boy was nice today (he does that sometimes) and it sounded like he enjoyed the visit to the library for story time, as well as all the toys and crafts he got to mess around with at the center.

Kat had a talk with one of the teachers when she went to pick up Max and Natalie this afternoon. We've got a much clearer picture of what's going on with The Mean Boy - I think the details really shouldn't be discussed here - and hopefully we can help Max work through things now that we have some adult perspective on the situation.

In other news, Christmas is... fast approaching.

Mine:

I don't know how this happened. I really don't. How did we get here? Do you know?

Everything is a blur for me. It's true. I remember the first time I saw you with ease. How could I forget that red dress you wore? I know I ordered a Guinness and you had a... a... what are those things called again? Right, a Bellini.

Disgusting nonsense, obviously, but I forgave you that.

Sinatra was on the stereo when we danced across the floor. Springsteen was blasting when we kissed. The taxi cab that took us to my apartment had one hubcap missing. The back right, if memory serves. We had no need for music on that ride.

The elevator ride was filled with your perfume and the taste of your lips. I don't know if we were alone. It didn't matter. I can see myself putting the key into the lock on my door. Turning to usher you into my humble domain. The smile on your face as you took in the view from the twentieth floor.

And then.

And then? What came next? Did you say something? Did I? No, why would we have said anything at all. Words were not why we were there.

How long ago was that? Only a week? That cannot be right, surely! It is a grey fog in my thoughts, our time together. I should have taken more pictures, more video. I want to treasure our togetherness. I'm sure you do too. But then, perhaps your memory is clearer on the matter of us than mine is.

Enough! All this talking has dried my lips. Would you like a glass of water as well? No, no, don't get up, I'll get them.

Oh, right, you can't get up. Goodness me, it would seem I've even forgotten about the ropes! Forgive me, but the kitchen is at the other end of my apartment. That, sadly, means the gag has to go back in. So just... hold... still...

2 Comments:

Greg said...

So... you didn't tie the Mean Boy up and waterboard him into telling you what was going on between him and Max? You Canadians and your peaceful resolutions... :-P
Well, it sounds like (as is often the case) that it's more complicated than it sounds from just one person's viewpoint, so I'm glad that you've been able to get a better overview of the situation and have a handle on it now :)
Since Christmas is fast approaching will you do be doing a week of Christmas prompts again this year? I've enjoyed them every other year. And is our Christmas present going to be you catching on comments again? (*ducks*)
I really enjoyed this piece today, everything in it really fits together and pulls in the same direction. The narrator's tone never really changes, but the reader's perception of it does: at the beginning it seems normal, if perhaps a little too romantic, but it turns very creepy by the end. As we start to realise why this is essentially a monologue it's like becoming the person tied up; all we can do is listen while this madman, who's kept us captive for a week, goes to get a glass of water: so ordinary, and yet, under the circumstances, almost soul-destroying.
Bravo!

Restrained
"Mavis! Mavis!"
"Derek. The maintenance guy said there was an odd noise coming from the basement. You do realise that he thinks you're a rat, don't you? If you insist on shouting for me instead of putting in a formal request using Form 3B he's going to fumigate the place one of these days."
"...would that be bad, Mavis?"
"Probably, Derek. I should think you're highly susceptible to rat poison, personally."
"Thank-you!"
"That wasn't – oh, never mind. This month's numbers are up again, Derek, and we're currently third in the inter-office sales rankings. I am sorry to say this, but I don't think corporate are going to let you out any time soon. If we were doing worse it might be different, but... we're not."
"That's why I was shouting, Mavis! I saw the email from corporate. They've said I'm to be re-trained!"
"That's odd; I should see all emails that you get, and I don't remember that."
"It's right here, Mavis. Look. No, you'll have to come round, the monitor doesn't work very well. It's old."
"I'm not getting close to that, Derek. That looks like it's microwaving you to me. Let me check my phone."
"Well?"
"Patience, Derek. I've got twenty new messages since I left my desk... ah, right, here we go. You were copied in on this one... oh."
"Oh? Is that a good oh, Mavis?"
"Derek, I did tell you to practice your reading, didn't I?"
"...yes Mavis."
"This email doesn't say re-trained, Derek, it says restrained. You're to be restrained."
"What does that mean, Mavis?"
"It explains why we had a shipment of chains delivered on Monday, at last."

Marc said...

Greg - no, apparently your New Year's present will be me catching up on comments again :P

Thank you for the kind words on mine; I was quite pleased with how it turned out.

Ah, poor Derek. We haven't heard from him and Mavis in a while and, foolishly, I'd hoped his lot in life had improved. Obviously not!