One of Those Things

by Alex Scott

It's one of those things. One of those peculiar moments. You know what I mean. Like when you are making toast, and you drop it. The toast. And it twists in the air, taking its time. And you're watching it and you can tell that it's going to land. It's going to land. The wrong way up. You know it. So you watch, you do nothing. Like the last time you saw an ad for a job and you knew you had a good chance of getting it. But you were still pretty sure you wouldn't. So you made sure. Like watching a ball bounce out into the middle of the road. Red and rubbery, cheerful and deadly. Like when the creak of the door is a warning bell. Like when the answer comes and yet you know it is not going to come, unqualified. Like you've just gotten close enough to hear the band clearly, and you know you are listening to the last notes, in the last bar of the final number. Everyone else just wants to go home. Like when I see you looking at me. Holding my arm, digging your fingers in. And I suddenly know that I am going to let you go. I am going to watch you fall, because that's how it is. I am going, and you will twist in the wind. I am going to let you go now. I am going to let you go.

 

This poem is taken from Total Cardboard issue 6, and remains under copyright. For more information see www.totalcardboard.com