Incertitude

Incertitude

A Story by Tam S
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noun 1.a state of uncertainty or hesitation

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It stood there six foot tall with its large bowl shaped shade dead center of the only place I ever called a sanctuary. I don’t even remember putting it there just that I was rearranging the furniture once again. I laid there motionless, staring as the sunlight peaked through my transparent curtains. They weren’t really mine, the previous tenant left them. I could see every reason why, they were the ugliest things I had ever seen but it seemed like a waste of time to bother with changing them. The lamp still there. Me still here laying, motionless. I could start to hear the streets heart beating. I cant seem to remember if there was something I had to do today. Sundays are usually filled with running errands I’ve waited to run until they are past due. I don’t even know what time it is. Past seven probably. Ella’s voice fills the room. When did I put a record on? There must be something I need to accomplish today. I’ll start with getting up, the solitude of this place is starting to chill my bones.

 

The café was, as expected, overly crowded with college students writing term papers and indulging in American Literature their flower child professor assigned them.  Kerouac or some s**t like that. The mug rack was displayed in the center of the room. I stared until a stranger nearly knocked me over in a hurry to get somewhere.

 

I returned to my apartment, the desolate sanctuary that once again seemed wrong. Maybe it’s the couch this time or the coffee table. I rearrange again before placing a Bennett record on the player and picking up the Times. Front page news reads about political indifferences, wars, taxes, natural disaster, and the suspect loss by the Sox to the Mets. It meant nothing to me as I caught myself staring again. Black thin and six foot ascended. The Sun had disappeared by late afternoon behind the building across. Maybe I should turn it on. The shadows were starting to creep anyways. Turning the knob I flinch at the lights presence. Even expecting it, it still seemed to take my sight by surprise. I stood staring remembering I hadn’t watered the plants today and that the milk was expired.

 

By sun down the place was spotless. I had remembered my over due library books, the dishes that were neglected over the week and that my out of town neighbors cat needed to be fed. I sat back down on the couch returning to the paper. Glancing at the lamp I remembered the grocery list I wrote out at work on Thursday. How could I have forgotten to buy food. I grabbed my things cut the lights and headed for the deli.  

 

I glanced over the causeway as the twilight looked upon the city. Walking home I kept feeling as though I forgot something off my list. Didn’t matter though, as the city streets were not a place someone wants to be sighted after dark. Thugs and criminals like to roam these parts after dusk. The sanctuary seemed slightly less out of place with the furniture in its new standing. Although I feel like its been this way before. After the food is put away I pour a glass of wine and grab the novel from my bag.  A story about some misunderstood artist in search of the meaning of life or love or dealing with a midlife crisis. The same old bullshit you read in high school and college except this time it was for pleasure. I’d grown incredibly tired of these teenage fantasy stories about mythical creatures and far away lands. The furniture isn’t right again. This time the love seat seems out of place. Doesn’t mesh with the rest of the set up. Maybe if I move the lamp. Where was it before though? Beside the television. I think. No must have been by the window. Yeah, next to the window seemed right but I just stared. Flickered the light back on. Beside the couch. The lamp use to be beside the couch. For some reason I just didn’t want to move it. The middle of a room is not place for a lamp but I was transfixed by it somehow. I rearrange the room again. This time so that the lamp didn’t seem so out of place. So that the room revolved around it. I sat there motionless again. Just staring, realizing that today was Saturday.  

© 2013 Tam S


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"...the solitude of this place is starting to chill my bones." Beautifully written line. I find your short sentences in the beginning add, almost, a sense of urgency and it compels me to keep reading.
Thanks for sharing your writing!

Posted 7 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.


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Added on August 25, 2013
Last Updated on August 25, 2013
Tags: Short story, subliminal, weekend

Author

Tam S
Tam S

CA



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Small Person, Big Heart. Sometimes its easier to write than speak. more..

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