Quick Draw by ART LADY circa Eve Turner-Lee
Time to revisit the series of stories written a year ago. I am refreshing and attempting draft number 4. This is the start of the story set in the UK. Partly auto biographical at this stage.
CHAPTER ONE EPISODE 1
Figures danced around; beautiful but at the same time intimidating. Shapes and illusions trying to describe something that didn’t really exist, or did it. Drumming beats took away the mystery; as rain spattered against the window. The rattle became a roar as the droplets became balls of ice.
Jess started as a flash and clap rattled his chest. He was shaken at the speed with which the thunder followed the light. Almost immediately a blanket of white was followed by a deep rumble breaking into a strong vibrating crescendo.
He had always loved thunder even as a small boy, which surprised his mum and dad. He grew up on a council estate near the sea in Sussex. It was a fairly sheltered and Conservative town with little exposure to the wider world or other cultural influences. It was easy to grow up with a very narrow view of how the world worked and who was in it.
It had its good points though. Jess had lots of playtime in fields and trees; games of intrigue and vivid imagination. Most children get to a certain age when the games and stories fall into the background and are quickly taken over with desire and ambition. Not so for Jess; his mind continued to work overtime and focus on seemingly peculiar things. Imagination, or was it; he was never really sure, but kept most of his thoughts to himself.
So time passed and Jess although having a few friends was basically a loner. He got to an age, after exploring all manner of illegal substances in a search of a reason an understanding, when he finally broke free from his home town and ventured up to London. The first few months were really exciting. He was able to sign on and explore but as much as he tried he couldn’t apply himself to anything that would sustain him. He had his rent paid and gradually retreated into his bedsit, that was on the second floor of a typical old building in an area of shops near an overground station that led into the underground system.
So here he was planning to escape once again. This time to Scotland for a whole new attempt to fit into the world somehow. The thunder rumbled loudly again here in his bedsit. The storm was right above the building he lived in
He got up still not sure if he was awake or asleep, took slow steps across the untidy bedroom floor. The electric storm illuminated his dingy flat. He stepped up to his window, peered through the curtain and could see people sheltering in the bridge opposite his window.
The tunnel that was holding up the over ground train leading from the station was black with soot; a build up of dirty black residue. He had a strange affection for its gloomy atmosphere, it reminded him of romantic and fatalistic images. He noticed in the corner of his eye someone looking up to his window. The figure seemed for a split second to jar a memory in Jess’s mind. The man stood out from the rest of the people sheltering as he seemed to be dressed in bright colours; this seemed strange.
For a moment time froze and Jess felt connected through eternity to this voyeur, but instead of following up this sensation he nervously and gently stepped towards his safety zone; an armchair, leaving the grubby grey net curtain to rest and stick against the damp window pane. For a moment Jess pondered the thoughts connected to this meeting, but as he sunk into his favourite place any attachment to these ideas drifted away.
The chair was large and cosy. Red and battered, springs broke through like fresh growth, as if it had decided to take root. It reeked with a history of old men drinking beer and smoking cigarettes. There were yellow nicotine stains on the ceiling above it, that lit up as he was thinking about it. The safety zone embraced this young man who seemed to be anxious in the company of others, not really knowing how to be at ease with himself.
He should be asleep having made a point of going to bed early, he had to catch the train. This was a turning point for him to get out of bedsit land and see the world. Jess didn’t have a specific plan.
He had spent a lot of time on his own, partly through choice. Others would say that he had a strange way about him. It was true, he was often distracted by his own thoughts. “Not really there”; was a description his parents used. He felt that he was not in the right place or even quite the right time.
He booked the train a month earlier, it cost less that way, reserved at a certain time. He had felt pleased with himself at finally getting organised enough to plan his escape.
He sunk into his favourite chair in an anxious state thinking about not catching the train. The idea went round in his mind time and again like a hamster in a wheel; he often spent the nights in this state; ideas spinning around his head. Just go to sleep why don’t you, he would think to himself and then start again with more of the same thoughts…..just count 1,2,3,4,5,6,7……………
CHAPTER 1 part 1 THE BROADENING part of the Eternal Distance series PTL copyright 2015