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November 3, 2007
Nanowrimo: aubergine
Phil takes some steps back, hands on his hips, looks up at the ragged Cornish flag limp and organic in the still mist. The white cross has that familiar algal tinge to it.Surprised that’s still there, he says. Well, he says, shall we go in? He bows to a point ten degrees south of Rowan, swings his arm out to the side and gestures towards the door hanging on one hinge. It’s dark inside, no light entering, the windows boarded up.
I don’t think so mate, says Midge. She’d bloody kill us if we let kiddo rampage around here.
Rowan tugs on Midge’s sleeve, the wool feels greasy and scratchy at the same time. No, I’ll go in, she says, her face screws up, I wanna.
Bloody hell, says Midge, we’ve got a right one here. He crouches down and takes her hand, small and cold, like a raw chicken thigh, he thinks, which disturbs him. Kiddo, you can come in, but stay close to me, yes? Otherwise I’ll have to tell her that you was bad.
Yup, she says back, and sticks her chin forward, grinning and baring her teeth at him. Her eyes screw up, her face rictous in gratitude.
Phil stands with his eyes closed, picking at his teeth- you done yet? Can we get on?
So remind me what we’re here for, says Midge, as he shoulders the door careful, leaning the peeling wood against him and shifts it scraping across the concrete. His hands come away covered in aubergine flecks also. The little girl notices this, looks back at her own hands, holds them out to the soft light flexing the fingers back so her palms rise up.
There’s as like to be more paint in here, says Phil, you can see they stopped bothering after the first coat. And it’s true, the flaking paint is showing duck egg blue underneath, a beautiful pale colour.
It seems a shame, says Midge. The blue’s much better.
Some bloody expert you are, says Phil, bloody changing rooms.
Why would he change rooms?-a sks Rowan. They ignore her. She kicks some weeds sticking up through the cracks in the concrete, little yellow explosions of flowers, columbines, she knows her flowers alright, she thinks.
Posted by scumkitten at November 3, 2007 12:06 PM
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