Sunday, February 13, 2005
Front Room
A room was strewn with old clothes ready for the jumble.
Tea stains gathered on the tinted glass of the coffee table.
The settee, worn from years of uncomfortable sitting.
Armrest, a fixed wooden block showing through the thin corduroy worn from years of lying with head nested into the corner watching a late night film or the final of some eagerly awaited sports occasion.
All quite, quiet! Hey, shut up you! The javelin is launched and tares into the evening sky, flying dangerously near the crowd, hanging in the air for eternity then turning to spear the damp ground.
Shades of muddy brown make up the rectangular form, covered in sparkling grey dust.
Turned stone dead with only Nineteen Eighty Three programmes left static inside the fish-bowl. The ribbed front a primitive instrument to be raked over with a Kitchen spoon.
The rich ruby red/brown texture of the carpet scouring knees while trying to navigate around with the bright red and white toy car. Running it through the tunnels and around the coasters, vroom, vroom.
The jeep is better and can go over the metal strips in the carpets.
The papers would be spread out at various angles and piling in parts to cover the books. Loose shards of paper are pointing up and casting shadows across the floor. The jam jar forming a crater of balanced pages. Reaching up towards the hanging glass light shades which refract the light into a hundred pieces across the white sheets of paper strewn about.
Peering at the round knobs fixed to the side of the imitation teak record player: A smeared plastic coffe coloured see-through lid protecting the multiplayer turntable holding an imbedded tape player with microphone attatchment, never used. The thin red dial of the radio tuner lights up then the top vinyl disc slides down the metal pole and begins riding the turntable. Wooden camels of various sizes gather at the foot of the stereo deck, an oasis of sound. The DJ clicks into action, introducing the top forty run down, shouting out through the interference for a while and then stopping with a sudden thump! The electric buzz popps, the light bulbs flash once and turn off. The room fades to black.
The net curtains shake as the sound of the door is heard slamming hard! Footsteps? A moving shadow is projected across the flowery wallpaper in the hallway.
