i often get into trouble at work
for been quiet
and not giving enough input
at meetings

after a riveting meeting
(something about how the company is doing something which is exciting but i don’t know what it is because i was thinking of sex all the way through the meeting and hoping no one would see my erection.
apart from the new girl on reception who might take it as a sign of virility and want to fuck like animals, so dispensing with any social interaction which would involve asking questions which i can barely finish through sheer boredom)
the section manager asks if we have any input

‘well’ i say

‘well, we could do something good. like leave this job. maybe we could just go home and spend time with our loved ones (i have to admit i looked at the receptionist at this point) it would do us good to reconnect with our friends and family. maybe we could even look for better jobs, ones that don’t make you want to buy a gun and go mental. be honest who here likes the cunts who run this place. their wasting our lives’

the new receptionist didn’t even flinch
they must have got to her
it doesn’t matter
i think i have been staring long enough to have a good mental image
i’ll use it when i masturbate later

i’ll probably develop a whole fantasy around it
like we are lost souls
who run away
from this awful world
and live in the wild
eating from the land and each other
and the passion will melt the sky
her hair will be matted with dirt and petals
and we will bathe in streams and lakes
and at night we will venture into the city
like foxes
and steal food and dance on rooftops
we will be drunk on life
kiss until our lips are sore
and we will hold each other
so close
that when we come
the whole of nature screams

by now I’m back at my desk
and shes standing at reception
and some prick is talking to her
like hes stepped out of a life style catalogue
where you order humans
with ‘i’ life accessories
to a house with carpets
in coffee colours
watching fools sing on tv
and he’ll go for nights out with his mates
and sleep with girls
he’ll never tell her about
and there will be a beige life creeping over her
with four weeks off a year
and a lifetime of misery
she'll suppress with pills

we must leave tonight
we can escape
while no one is looking
past the cars
under the airplanes
and into the woods
leaving the blue glow of the tvs and sun beds far behind

i have to tell her
but the words are mumbled
incoherent
she looks shocked
confused
i explained it as clearly as i could
i try to again
but security are closing in
so i run

i run through streets
full of workers
holding triangular sandwiches
with plastic water
i run
and run
and it takes hours before the tall buildings become small houses
and the small houses become motorways with bright lights
and i run over the bridges until the concrete becomes grass
and i keep running
faster and harder
through trees
over leafs
across streams
i run until i’m safe
until its to late to go back
where they wont find me

in a corner of my flat
curled into a ball
staring into a tv
and the cheapest vodka
money can buy

by scott winter

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