Saffron and Eel - By Christopher Jacobs
He turned to me.
Thumb pointed behind him.
"You dare me to steal that car over there?"
Tom and I used to spend our night-shift breaks, sitting around, eating savoury crepes. After, he'd smoke most of my cigs out back by the bins.
Today, we bunned a zute. Its Tom's first time getting high and he's fuckin' willing to commit Grand Theft Auto.
I dig it.
"Fuck yeah." I slur, slurping my strawberry milkshake.
"Pedal to the fuckin medal."
The owner of that white vice-city inferno roams in - heads straight to the toilets.
Tom straightens his red jock jacket and dashes outside.
We couldn't help but wonder why he'd leave the key in the ignition.
Then it clicked; it was too good to be true.
Tom got into the car, positive. He opened the door and sat inside - I saw him! But-
the light inside,
- it just cut.
I wearily raise myself from my seat.
The lights of the car flicker on again.
No ones[S inside - the car is still running.
The Jukebox jolts. Tommy James & The Shondells - Lost In Your Eyes writhes aloud.
I'm freaking out, man. shit.
I head to the front door,
I need to check the car out.
".Actually, I needed to take a piss.
The toilet's ambience always was a shade of dirty white. As I walked through the hallway, everything got brighter and as I reached this singular room; everything seemed... clean. Too clean.
I knocked on the brown door;
"Hello sir, are you in there?"
No one replied.
I knocked louder.
"Sir! Excuse me, is anyone in there!?"
I opened the door.
No ones there.
I think I trickled a bit in my Calvin classics.
I headed back to the empty store front,
car still there, everything still in place..stuck in place..
The clock wasn't moving.
"You dare me to steal that car?" Tom's voice echoed from the inferno.
I walked out into the pitch blackness, towards the vehicle. I opened the door and landed my ass on its beige leather seats. I remember thinking, "this is class."
And the door shuts.
And the lights went out.
And I woke up."
James and Elizabeth lay bare, shrouded in sheets, and in each other's embrace.
"A shit dream to have before you meet someone." She teases, fiddling with her poorly dyed, pink, strawberry, hair.
"It did the job, didn't it?"
"Did the job?"
"It got us to meet. Next day, woke up, had to clean my sheets. You just happened to move into the house across the street all those years ago. We passed and-"
"-we met." She struggles out the bed, James moves like a slow magnet.
"Dana, lights." Elizabeth murmurs.
The soft morning glow is eradicated as the shaded-window fades clear.
"-and get the coffee ready too." Blurts James.
"Say it correctly."
".O. yeah, of course... Dana, please prepare the coffee."
"-coffee is being prepared-" The house states.
"I'm just finding it hard to believe our relationship was founded on a 1960's themed nightmare." Elizabeth spouts as she struggles into her work outfit.
"It wasn't the sixties," James retorts, "it was my student days. Being a cook at that diner was the only job I could get; it was slave labour for the price it paid."
She sashays towards him.
"Now you're married to the owner of these diners. You've come a long way."
She plants a kiss on his cheek and heads into their marble en-suite bathroom.
"Do you still keep in contact with Tom?" She splurges, brushing her teeth.
"No. I stopped working there for some reason; I never really spoke to Tom outside the diner. I can't even remember if his name is Tom."
She wipes her mouth, ties her hair and perches herself on the bed, clamping her heels on.
"But hey, if I didn't quit, I wouldn't of have time for our study sessions." James says with optimism.
"And I wouldn't have noticed the love of my life." She replies, holding the car keys in one hand, his designs.S] in another.
I embraced her as she departed. She took her coffee and went to work.
I laid back on the white, future-struck bed;
my mind and memory
in a granted wish
of pseudo-natural love.