Mr. M

It was too cold that night. That night which will not soon be forgotten by the accomplices of Mr. M. It was much too cold for the events which came to pass to come to pass. However, they did. And one by one, lining up like the gears of a well made Swiss watch, those events changed Mr. M’s life. 

 

        When Mr. M ponders that fateful night, he cannot help but regret the consequences of his actions. It was so warm in the comfort of his one bedroom flat, he really had no reason to venture out. But with the cold he bared, he brought along a heavy mind. A mind which needed to relieve itself at all costs. These costs he paid for in future pain and angst, but he knew that just like his plastic paying card, it wouldn’t hurt until the  statement arrived. 

 

        As he crossed the threshold from his warm abode to the wintry streets which awaited him, Mr. M gave one last thought to heeding his conscience. The wintry streets won. Braced from the frigid wind by his coat and cap, he strode the familiar path to his favorite establishment of debauchery. Thus the events of the evening of January 27 were put into motion. 

 

        Upon arriving to a resounding welcome from friends and foes alike, Mr. M paced the floor to absorb the atmosphere. As he made his way through the dense crowd, he was overcome with a craving for a Cuty Sark on the rocks. This turned out to be step two in the process of poor decision making that evening. 

 

        He could hardly be relied upon to keep a clear mind, this being his tenth partaking of libation in a fortnight. Striding back to his table of familiar faces, Mr. M was quickly, but strikingly distracted by a face in the crowd. 

 

        “I’ve seen that face before. One as beautiful as that cannot be easily forgotten,” M reflected.

        

        Pushing it to the rear of his consciousness, M took a seat next to his fellow rabble rousers and began to sip. Although he tried to pay attention to the bland conversation, he could not take his eyes off the face from the past. 

 

        “Pardon me,” M excused himself from the table and sauntered to the remote corner where the face was now gazing at his own. 

 

        This was the second time that evening in which M left his comfortable surroundings to delve into his own curiosity. As he approached, the face grew brighter and seemed to hint at a faint recognition of M’s features. Flustered, M tried to change his course, but his scent had already been picked up. 

 

        “Don’t try to just walk by, I see you,” sneered the face as M reluctantly acknowledged it’s presence. 

 

        “Oh, sorry I didn’t recognize you at first. How are you?” ventured M, attempting to sound as congenial as possible.

 

        “Lets not beat around the bush,” said the face, “we both know why you aren’t home right now.”

 

        “I haven’t the slightest...”

 

        “Listen, we don’t have time for your usual games. If you truly ‘hadn’t the slightest,’ then you would be at home right now. But you aren’t. You came here knowing full well what would transpire.”

 

        Speechless, M searched the chamber for a quick distraction and possible exit. “You must be mistaken, I, I only thought I recognized you from afar, but no longer. Oh, it looks like my friend is calling over there, excuse me.”

 

        “Not so fast M.” the face reached out and discretely took hold of M’s now clammy wrist with surprising strength. “We wouldn’t want to leave things so ambiguous, would we now?”

 

        The face skillfully led M through the crowd, to the bar and forced him to sit at an empty barstool. 

 

        “Now after you order us a few more of those drinks you favor so, I will let you in on why you are so shaken up.”

 

        M tried to get up and walk away, but he was cemented to the stool and his body moved as if on puppet strings. 

 

        “Two Cutty Sarks, rocks please.” the face placed an order through M’s mouth. 

 

        Now panicking, M looked behind him to try and call the attention of his acquaintances at the back table. One by one, they grinned ear to ear, giving approving nods at M’s current situation. How could they not see the fear in his eyes? He tried to shout and the face’s grip on his wrist tightened to an excruciating level. 

 

        One after one, the Cutty Sarks were poured down his gullet by his uncontrollable hands. As the face finished its drinks, the effects seemed to transfer straight from its perfectly formed mouth to M’s blood stream. Doubly intoxicated, M tried for the first time to question the face’s motives. 

 

        “What’s the meaning of this? I don’t...um...don’t get what you’re doing,” blubbered M.

 

        “As I explained to you before, we don’t have time for your games. We both know why you are here and I see no point in your ignorance.”

 

        “But...I just came to see friends. I really should get back to them.” M’s mind started to hurt as the face peered intensely into his light blue eyes. 

 

        “Fine, I will help you along, since your brain seems to be malfunctioning. You came here to destroy yourself. Everything that means anything to you, you came here to lose. Of course, you could have just remained at home, but you couldn’t help yourself to the seductive power of self annihilation. Now, you may not have realized this in your ever-convenient ignorance, but by simply coming here, you are deteriorating the moral fabric of your own being. Hey, are you paying attention? You really don’t get it, do you?”

 

        M tried to focus on the spinning face before him. “How could you know this? I don’t even remember how, or where I know you from.”

 

        “It really is of no concern at this point. Whether you know me or not, I am here. You are here. We have to settle this once and for all.” The face slowly leaned in, never once losing eye contact with M. He tried to pull back, but long ago had lost control of his own movements. 

 

        The face’s soft and moist lips pressed against M’s. At first it was the most euphoric embrace M had ever felt. Warm and tender, the lips gently caressed and teased M’s. Their tongues touched with a spark and he could feel the gentle heat migrate from hers to his. Slowly, the ecstasy was transfixed with severe pain. The type of which M had experienced only once before in his life. He could feel his blood boiling in his veins and his head seemed to be soaking up the face completely. 

 

        M closed his eyes and prayed for it all to end. Being unreligious, M knew not of whom or what to pray to. He sent his request out to the cosmos hoping that any supreme being might take notice of his cries.          

 

        In a split second, the pain receded. M regained his consciousness and opened his eyes. The face was gone. In front of him sat ten empty glasses and a cocktail napkin. Still regaining his composure, M picked up the napkin and wiped his brow of tiny, ice cold beads of sweat. 

 

        The only thing for M to do was take out his plastic card and complete the transaction.