Uneaten Icecream

The first rays of a rosy red sun blazed up from above the corner shop across the road, the speckled light falling across the bed covers, casting shadows like the morning glow on distant mountains. Dust mites hung in an air that was heavy with the scent of warm beer and spilled Vodka; strewn across the floor was evidence of last night’s endeavours, from torn off trousers to cracked bottles and smashed glasses. Beside the motionless figure of a man, his arm flopped across his face, like he was crumbling underneath the suns glow, was the figure of a woman, face upturned and black hair falling across a slightly lopsided and dribbling mouth.

The perfect Valentine’s Day.

The man groaned and unravelled himself from the tangle of limbs and bed covers; the world span as he sat on the edge of the bed and pulled on slightly damp trousers, still rich with the scent of alcohol. Looking back at the crumpled figure of his late night mistress, picked up whilst adventuring the lonely clubs of Valentine’s Day Eve, he gave a small snort and shook his head. The things he’d do to feel loved.

With a small scrawled note, a few details and a rough sentence telling her to text him, although he was sure she didn’t have his number, he left the house with a resolute determination to make something of the day.
The world outside was crisp, with promise on the air: sleep cleared from crusted eyes and with a few tugs of the gloves around his fingers, he was met with a certain pleasurable feeling of comfort, albeit one masked with the hazy afterthoughts of the night before.

Two hours later, he sat with the same clothes on and a few sprays of aftershave across an unshaven face in a coffee shop on the high street. The glass was fogged with the perspiration of love as because everyone in the shop was glued to someone else, either by the hand or by coffee stained lips.
The day meant nothing and he knew it, but the world didn’t seem to agree with him.
The time slogged past with an infatuated lull: the deepest, darkest recesses of the man’s mind scowled at the couples, wrapped up in each other’s embrace, giggling like children at play on the street. With an absent mindedness reserved for the lonely, he began to browse his phone, half hoping for a text, half laughing at himself for becoming so weak.

Scrolling through his contacts, the man’s finger fell upon her name.

It throbbed slightly under his touch.

A million thoughts and scenarios raced through his head.

“It’s Valentine’s Day, why not?”

The feeling of regret instantly tickled his mind as soon as he sent the text message. It hung heavy over his heart; he strived to distract himself with the cold coffee on the table in front of him, but his brain had other intentions: the past is a cruel mistress. Lurking in the dark, she has the numbers of all your future lovers and is poised ready to call them up and snatch away happiness at the last moment. The insidious ex-girlfriend that plays on your soul, causing the feelings of love and attraction stumbling around like new born lambs, crying for your attention, to be pushed aside and hidden away by the darkness of lost love; a history of rejection and pain that hunts your trust and confidence, ripping and tearing at your emotions until you collapse in dejection like the last summer flower.

Still, it was Valentine’s Day.

The anticipation clawed at his brain like a blind man wielding a pair of toe nail clippers; he went up to the counter and ordered a small bowl of ice-cream, half grunting and gesturing towards vanilla with his one free hand, the other hidden away in his pocket, grasping at the phone with sweaty tension.

On the way back to his lonely seat, the phone vibrated and the bowl almost slipped from his fingers.

The text was simple, but it was all he needed to see.

“Sure, where do you want to meet?”

Reviews

[de_maruf]

Aspects of institutions

Although individual, formal organizations, commonly identified as "institutions," may be deliberately and intentionally created by people, the development and functioning of institutions in society in general may be regarded as an instance of emergence; that is, institutions arise, develop and function in a pattern of social self-organization, which goes beyond the conscious intentions of the individual humans involved.
As mechanisms of social interaction, institutions are manifest in both formal organizations, such as the U.S. Congress, or the Roman Catholic Church, and, also, in informal social order and organization, reflecting human psychology, culture, habits and customs, and encompassing subjective experience of meaningful enactments. Most important institutions, considered abstractly, have both objective and subjective aspects: examples include money and marriage. The institution of money encompasses many formal organizations, including banks and government treasury departments and stock exchanges, which may be termed, "institutions," as well as subjective experiences, which guide people in their pursuit of personal well-being. Powerful institutions are able to imbue a paper currency with certain value, and to induce millions into cooperative production and trade in pursuit of economic ends abstractly denominated in that currency's units.[citation needed] The subjective experience of money is so pervasive and persuasive that economists talk of the "money illusion" and try to disabuse their students of it, in preparation for learning economic analysis.[citation needed]

[KAOlmsted]

Ah...I was wondering where the title would come in ;-) Fantastic, as usual, Harry. I liked this one a lot. And you didn't kill any dogs xD

[quinfinn]

this is very well written and quite engaging and has a gritty realistic feel which makes it irresistible. nicely done!

[Marie]

Good story for valentine's day...no one should be lonly on the 14th...