Anti–noiritive
He mumbled a name gruffly at the floor.
"Oh really," I turned and said.
"Yeah, really." He looked at me, then past me. "What's it to you, anyway?"
"Oh, don't mind me," I said, "I'm just here for the band."
The band was Slim Jimmy's Swing and Sax Collective, the atmosphere was metallic. Like the foil lid of a coffee jar, or the thin cold film covering the sky on a moonless night.
"Your face is beautiful, like the curve of a Grecian urn," I breathed.
"You want to know why it's so long, then? You ever been in love?
I paused, then nodded.
"You ever seen someone you love walk out on you for the love of a milkman? A milkman?"
I shook my head, but knew inside that I was lying.
He downed his fifth whiskey soda, chuckled and look at me. "Then you don't know what it's like. What it's like when pain and failure are your last two constant companions."
I handed him a smoke with a sultry motion.
"I keep trying," he said gruffly, "but I keep just winding back around and biting myself in the ass."
He mumbled a name gruffly at the floor.
Fucking excellent.
24 Jul 2006, 18:05
Melodramatic, tired, verging on the cliche.
Hate the line "Then you don't know what it's like. What it's like when pain and failure are your last two constant companions" and the italic metalic. And the "inside I knew i was lying" bit.
The grecian urn/long face bit doesn't quite make sense.
Thing is, you're saying nothing new, which would be ok if you were telling it in a new way, but i don't actually think you are.
I like Slim Jimmy's Swing and Sax collective though – they sound like they play good music.
26 Jul 2006, 23:13
Thanks Alex, I prefer Paul's comment though! ;)
My only defense is that "it wasn't actually meant to be good" but as you and I both know, irony is the last recourse of weak men.
Btw – Slim Jimmy's Swing and Sax Collective play polka music. The year is 2137.
27 Jul 2006, 16:52
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