SATURDAY ARRIVES QUICKER THAN i would have liked. the days leading up to today have been filled with studies, writing, and smoking, with only a single encounter with elliot breaking the perfect routine of simplicity. he was asking for some statistics help, which i was less than pleased to give. he had broken the pattern of my mental isolation.
"anna," lisa groans from beneath her sheets. "it saturday already?"
ten o'clock in the morn, i wish to add on snidely, but refrain. i've been awake for three hours; it's a miracle if she doesn't lay her head back onto the pillow and sleep for another three hours. "uh huh."
slowly, she peeks her head from the sea of grey duvet. "know what that means?"
i don't pay much mind to her, turning my eyes back to the document of my final writing piece. i've gotten another two thousand words in on the minimum-of-ten-thousand-words-essay since last night. "you're going to drag me out to some club or bar or other place i would rather not be, then i'll escape your clutches and find a ride back here."
"same old thin', isn't it?"
my fingers temporarily halt on the keys. "s'pose so. when do we leave?"
"gimme an hour and a half, then we can go grab a bite to eat."
as she prepares for a generic weekend evening, i take half of the time to just walk around campus. the architecture is something i marveled at during the beginning of this term, but now it feels too familiar. the beautiful things are the first to become bland, and every plain thing follows in the cascade of grey waters.
the people are just as dull as the once lovely spires of the buildings have become. they waste their breaths on trying in vain to stay alive, their livers on alcohol, their time on sex. their faith is a mystery to me, but i'd be surprised if any of them are catholic. only three girls at our small little university have gotten pregnant this year; that sort of statistic doesn't happen without some kind of birth control intervening.
no matter how boring they may be, they still roam the grounds like pigeons on trafalgar. too bad it's not incredibly legal to just kick either group. both are too stupid to do much other than meander.
eventually, the air feels as thick with smoke as my lungs do. the industrial revolution was part pride, part suicidal, the way i see it. sure, us brits brought along the technology that has shaped the developed world, but in doing it, we catalysed the tonnes of harmful chemicals in the air, the ways people can be killed by advanced technologies. we were all suicidal and homicidal for the sake of a successful economy.
it's cold in this december. too cold for me continue thinking toxic thoughts like this before i freeze up.
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YOU ARE READING
Hearing Anna
Short Storyin which a girl named anna is swept up in a firestorm that burns her down and the aftermath leaves her reeling, because flames leave nothing but a despondent frown filled with a lack of feeling. i. the field ii. the flame iii. the br...
