Saturday 22 June 2013

Is this on repeat?

I gathered my supplies and ventured out into the world.
What does that mean?
Ventured out into the world. Into the wild. Where things happen.
Where are the adventures? I'm not sure, but they happen, and things happen, and day by day life goes past, until you stop on the hill way up above the world and look around. And you've come so far.
~What are you doing on a hill? YOU'RE MEANT TO BE REVISING.
;)

"Where to, Arthur?" I enquired without looking at him.
I heard a sigh and stifled a retort.
"The same place we always go."
I nodded at the cold trees, "Onwards then."
We set off down the garden path and through the little gate, past the letterbox stuffed with yellow envelopes that I should probably open, and we turned left and made our way down the street.
"The stones hurt my feet," Arthur said in a matter of fact voice. I snorted and didn't reply because he had no feet.
The chilly wind rushed at us and we bowed our heads. My blue coat rustled about my legs, and I shivered.
"We're making good time," Arthur made to take out a pipe, but I kicked him and he grumbled something about 'unfair proposals' and such. I ignored him because I had seen something wonderful.
"It's a balloon!" I exclaimed, staring off into the solemn trees to our left. A red one. I scanned the area for people but there were none. "No one plays out here when it's cold," I said, thinking about children trying to play ball while rugged up in puffy winter coats and hats and mittens and scarves and earmuffs. They'd stumble and roll on their padding, let out a muffled scream of joy that no one would hear and forget about it when summer came.
"We're not padded! Let's go!" I only half-turned to Arthur as I said this because I knew he would follow me, and I dashed ahead into the trees filled with excitement.
Can it be real?
I let my feet stumble as I ran.
"WE HAVE TEA AT TWO, YOU KNOW!" I heard Arthur call indignantly, and I laughed. I laughed at him, at his silly voice and his bad habits and his punctuation.
Two doesn't always mean two, I thought. Then I wondered as I saw the balloon bobbing cheerfully at me. I wondered: What is it when it isn't two? Time has no vacancies.
I felt sad about this, but did the sensible thing and forgot about it as I skidded to a halt at the tree housing the balloon. I looked up. There it was, seemingly floating with the wind and I counted the branches in preparation. Seven.
"It's too high."
I looked down and saw Arthur glaring up at it as if I'd just told him he had to climb the tree or else be made to do the washing up every night for a month. Arthur hated housework. He always vanished and re-appeared carrying useless items, claiming he'd gone shopping, when I know he can't ride a bike.
"I'm going up and getting it, so settle down."
"Does this mean I can smoke my pipe?" He asked eagerly.
I thought about telling him no, but he did need something to occupy his time. I could be hours.
"Ok."
He beamed and immediately stuck the pipe in his mouth that made me realise he'd been holding it the whole time. What is this?
"Whatever," I said and hooked my foot on the first branch, "See you next year."
"Hilarious."
I looked up to judge the distance but only made myself dizzy. I stared at the tree bark instead, remembering that I was afraid of heights and they made me fee faint. Very clever.
Nevertheless, I gritted my teeth and started to climb. Amidst the wobbliness of my legs, and the pounding in my head that couldn't possibly be the heart in my chest, amidst my trembling hands and short breaths and constant mutters of profanities, I pressed on. I counted the branches as I went and the fear melted away. By branch four my legs had stopped wobbling and the profanities had subsided to only 'sheminopper' and 'frunknizzle'.
On branch six I dared to look up.
It was the kind of red that screams attention. It was like fire-engine red, maybe even redder, I couldn't tell. I don't study fire engines.
The thin silver ribbon was caught on a little twig. I thought how profound that was. Sometimes in life it is the smallest thing that makes the biggest difference; the smallest thing that changes your direction, breaks your back, makes you smile brightest and leaves you feeling like life is magical.
I guess I loved this twig, in a way.
"Stop thinking stupid thoughts and hurry up!" Arthur shouted making me jolt and I felt my foot slide on the branch.
I gripped the tree tighter and yelled back: "Shut up!" Then I reached out and snatched the ribbon. I felt triumphant as it came free.
"I HAVE IT!" I screamed. I heard a loud noise but didn't look down. Gripping it tightly I made my way down the tree, much quicker then going up, and I jumped the last two branches in smug confidence landing next to Arthur.
"You owe me a new pipe."
"What?" I stared at him, unsure how to take such hostility towards my successful venture. He moved and I saw that he had somehow sat on it.
"Arthur," I said dismally, "This isn't the time." And I smiled the brightest smile I had ever smiled, positively beaming at him.
"You're an egg," he said.
"No," I turned and studied my balloon fondly, "I'm an egg in love with a balloon." Because that's what it was, this great feeling, it was love. The balloon swayed peacefully.
"Right on," Arthur said, trying to sound hip with the times, and he made the peace sign for no reason. Then he glanced at his watch, "Shall we go then?"
"Yes, we shall."
"Thank fuck."
I don't think Arthur likes adventures.
-_-

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