Issue 125. April 14th - 27th 2006
A hole in the heart
"How is my life better knowing that he existed in this world and now he is gone forever?" She would ask herself, all the while, looking and hoping, and preying that she maybe it had hadn't really happened and maybe she would bump into him again someday.
By Rachel Queen
Absolutes are deceptive
A turtle, Velka Odmonorov thought, or a terrapin. Or a frog. He looks like a frog, with those eyes and those rubbery lips. A frog in a badly fitted yet expensive suit. Probably worth a fortune. Head of some multi-national or other. Yes. Definitely. One day I will be in his shoes. A common idiom. I prefer idioms to phrasal verbs, absolutely.
By Paul Williamson
Record Review: Un40rmulated - Compilation CD
As the name suggests it is a collection of 40 tracks - many from the labels own artists as well as some handpicked guests for good measure.
By Rob Herian
Live Review: The Blue Aeroplanes
Gerard is older these days of course, but he still has all the moves. He takes to the stage wearing a black suit (jacket with no lapels), black t-shirt underneath, and black sunglasses.
By Nick Kuohu
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A hole in the heart
Joanne Stevens was born in a burst of sunshine in late September. The light shone through the hospital windows, through her fragile eyes and penetrated deep into her heart. The doctors and nurses who witnessed her birth remarked that they had never seen such a happy baby. Her tiny gurgling laughs caused there stomach's to leap and their hearts to swell.
"Life was made for her. Nothing will ever stop her" said a doctor, when he saw her smile for the first time.
But things did go wrong for Joanne and years later she was struck down by the greatest curse of them all… love.
Joanne fell in love at the age of 17 to a boy who's eye's shone and who's smile penetrated more deeply into her heart than any ray of sunlight. They met at a party, and talked for an eternity, but fate was against them. A year later he was killed in a car crash, leaving a hole so deep that nothing could fill it.
People often say "it is better to have loved and to have lost than to never have loved at all", but in what way it was better Joanne could not see.
"How is my life better knowing that he existed in this world and now he is gone forever?" She would ask herself, all the while, looking and hoping, and preying that she maybe it had hadn't really happened and maybe she would bump into him again someday.
Of course it had happened though and 36 years later and her heart was still heavy and eyes still tired. Joanne had been married twice and divorced an equal number of times. Her life had never been empty and she had swallowed her share of love hoping that it would fill the hole in her heart. But nothing could fill that and if anything the chasm grew deeper and deeper.
She was at the end of a dreary two week holiday to Northern Spain and was about to return to an even drearier job and life.
Standing at the airport she looked around at the happy smiling faces. Stag parties wearing matching t shirts and matching vomit stains, families fraught from lack of sleep, but worst of all were the couples, sat leaning on one another dreamily surveying the hustle of the airport.
Buying a plane ticket to an unknown destination completely on impulse was a fantasy that Joanne had held for most of her life. A fantasy which on this particular day became a reality as she found her self cashing in her remaining savings and buying a ticket for the next flight to leave the airport.
"I'll either be forgotten and lost forever or I shall forget and lose him forever" She thought. A big gamble to take on such a mediocre kind of day.
As the taxi drove into the town, Joanne's heart swelled. It was like coming home. The light bounced off the wide streets, and majestic river. Her eyes opened wide, in a desperate attempt to take it all in.
The taxi driver drove her to a cheap hotel, overlooking a cobbled street. She walked into her room, and over to the door leading out onto the balcony. She felt calmer and more content than she had in years.
Joanne leant against the cool stone ledge and watched a young girl navigate her bike around the legs of pedestrians. She watched group of slightly drunk tourists laughing at everything in sight. She watched a girl in the opposite flat sitting at a table reading a book. Sunlight shone down on the pavement and she looked up at the yellow buildings, far into the blue sky and beyond. A burst of sunlight reached into her head, and pulled away her memories. It penetrated her heart and filled the black hole where he had once lived. And somewhere amongst the bars and the cafes and the children's parks, Joanne Stevens came to life.
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Absolutes are deceptive
Martin Turpin closed his eyes just this side of Charing Cross. It was either too late or too early. The deal was, as he had secretly imagined, taking longer than expected. So much for the three day completion. It had been three weeks now, and still they were no nearer a solution with their American cousins. They wanted the company to expand far too quickly, beyond the Adriatic and into the unknown before they had really thought about it. Too much too soon. Yet, the way he felt right now, as the train drew to a halt at Hillhead, the way he felt was the Americans could go and take a run and fucking jump, and if they don't then he will.
Pressure. He opened his eyes. Caught sight of his dark reflection in the carriage window. A gaudy miasma and not much more. It was never supposed to be like this. He was never supposed to be like this.
All his life, all he ever wanted to be was a librarian. Not this. Not this.
Velka Odmonorov was late. She had intended to go straight to work from college, but had fell asleep in the canteen, awoken only by a kindly janitor with his best years lain to waste behind him. This life, she felt, was killing her. 2 cleaning jobs in the morning, then lectures, then the waitressing in the evening- why were English lessons so expensive? Surely they would take into account an individuals situation? But no. It was all…well…there's no point going on about it, she told herself, and only a month left now until its done. Once I get that CPE, then I am out of this cold, damp, fucking place for good. And into the world of international commerce. London, to Paris, to Milan, Sydney- The world is, like last weeks idioms, my oyster.
Martin Turpin envied the young. Envied their youth, their vitality, envied, most of all, their downright optimism. They still had all their dreams intact- Not yet pummelled into submission by reality. He once had dreams, and the trouble was he didn't know how and when he actually lost them. He cannot point to a specific period in his life when everything just fell away and into tired monotony- The loss seemed gradual. Each step he made up the corporate ladder, it seemed, chipped away at his hopes, his dreams, until now, there was not much left of anything at all. He looked at the young woman at the other end of the carriage. A student no doubt. Foreign at a guess. She was smiling at something and she had every reason to smile.
A turtle, Velka Odmonorov thought, or a terrapin. Or a frog. He looks like a frog, with those eyes and those rubbery lips. A frog in a badly fitted yet expensive suit. Probably worth a fortune. Head of some multi-national or other. Yes. Definitely. One day I will be in his shoes. A common idiom. I prefer idioms to phrasal verbs, absolutely.
Am I smiling?
Martin Turpin got up from his seat, opened the carriage door, made his way onto the platform, onto the escalator, then out into what?
The rain fell down in sheets.
Tomorrow he would resign.
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