Christmas list

Submitted into Contest #230 in response to: Write a story in the form of a list.... view prompt

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Contemporary Drama Fiction

This story contains sensitive content

Warning

Swearing.

Possible trigger relating to domestic violence and toxic family issues




1. Don't think about it!


That was yesterday's list. Oh shit I'm thinking about it. Maybe number 1 should have been a little more positive - like - "Think about butterflies!" Scratch that-

Number 1- Think about butterflies!


2. Don't Phone!

Yes, that's easy, I text. I'm glad I made that number 2. I feel like I have some success, but really- I always text! Tick that!


3. Only smoke in the morning! That's a hard one. It's almost lunchtime. Can tick that, too!


4. Don't text! That includes emojis! O God, that's hard! I don't want to but a small part wants to say "Hi". Almost did it, but hey a tick.


5. Don't text! I had to remind myself! Yep, got there. Tick.


 6. Don't say their name at my own Christmas dinner to my girlfriend or her kids. It's not so hard! Yeah! Did it. Tick.


 7. Don't say their name after Christmas dinner. Harder, but I got there. Tick!


 8. Find a good movie and fall asleep on it! Top Gun was good, have to watch the ending as I fell asleep. Tick.


That was my Christmas! I followed the list and made it through the birth canal of independence.

Do I want to tell you about the person/people I do not want to vibe with? 


After working in customer service and owning my own small shoebox of a shop with no air conditioning, I gathered many regulars. Christmas- Easter times- always caused the look! Crazy families, child access, exes turning up! You got it!The stories I heard of- the others - all the others - made me feel compassion for the storytellers- but also not so alone.  


That's when I started the list!


The list was mild at first-


 1. Eat at their table and only respond, not react.

 2. Fake diahorrea and exit, if they started to fight each other- trigger me- or scapegoat me-


I would ask my regulars - How did it go? Some their faces gaunt, muscles tight, fingers wrapped around coathangers as if one was strangling them - I did not ask.


But one, he was a published author sourcing my experiential knowledge base, hoping the quirky character he was creating like me in his new novel could become more real! "How did it go?" I smiled, "Are you taping this?" He pushed his upside-down, poking out phone, back into his unzipped pocket bag- deeply. "Ahh, sorry!"


I liked Luke. He was smart, had a undiagnosed sensitivity, and obscure. His hair, long, sometimes oily, reminded me of an eighties bob. His collared shirts were mostly crushed, half tucked in, half slouching. Yet, his jeans needed to be pressed perfectly. I asked him one day, "Why are you so particular about your jeans?" They always smelled of smoke, which was a homey feeling for me. But they had a terrible feel of sheets slept in for weeks, saggy and dirt. "My mother always sprayed my jeans with water and then put them in the freezer. When she ironed them, the melting pixels of ice caused greater heat, and Wella!" he joked, pulling the hidden pocket of the jeans exposing his boney, lanky frame. He had moved from hometown Wollongong, New South Wales to Brisbane. As an artist, his mummies boy look interested me!


"Hmm- get back on MY petrie dish, please?" He had caught me! He had seen my petrie dish quietly appear near him on the counter - perhaps? "How did it go?" 

Looking at his bag with Squinting left eye. Holding his hands up. I crossed my arms and tapped my foot. Zippp! "The bags Kathmandu- insulated and waterproof pockets! Don't you like him! He had a gall, and under that nerd rating of ten, he had some balls! In a deeper tone, leaning over my counter, Luke repeated"How did it go?"


"Well- it went well!" He was not happy. How could his red-haired, fierce femme fatale character have pursed lips, saying, "Well- it went well!" No, he wanted more drama, maybe for me to throw something at him, stomp, raise my voice- but- "Well- it, it went well-" The customer service chic of the anticlimax! He mumbled so if i was truly listening i could hear him, "Maybe I will be forced to source out a new character study? I pointed, "The bakery has a couple of University casual hires"


After twenty-three Jean cleans and pressed later, he asked with the same question. A lot had happened in my life. "How did it go?" I could see in his eyes he was not satisfied with last years answer- "Well it, it went well!" In his book, he decided- chapter two- I would have indeed thrown a plate half loaded with potato salad and iceberg lettuce leaves, over the Christmas chook. My CEO brother anticipating, will duck, as my plate smashes a wedding photo and food sticks like a squished spider on the wall behind him. And then I would dig my key like a pencil and run it along my sister-in-laws new BMWs doors and bender, setting the shrieking car alarm off. Throwing my long red hair uncautiously. I could see him doing that to me.


I knew he would arrive around 11am, Wednesday, most times. as that was my slow time. My eyes scanned outside the fishbowl. No customers in sight! "Did I tell you I had eight rules this year?" He straightened up, arm like a bent wire looking for his pen and notebook, as he knew I was too sensitive about his phone and he wanted to get the juice! Ok, can you tell me the rules. I searched my apps and pulled up my list. He registered the ticked boxes first - "Oh. Well done!" I sighed like a cat being brushed. I felt like a soldier receiving a medal, as he read my eight and sweated achieved rules.


He knew I had shifted from my family home in March. He knew I was broke, but deep down, I was his muse. My sorrow and suffering were like a floating chiffon curtain disguising a nude body near a window which he wanted to sell! Then, to my surprise. I saw a softer part of him speak, a part I had never seen before! "No- How are you?" My stomach dropped a little thinking of the my Andy Warhol type, serial multicoloured photos of him leaving my shop. My art piece hanging in the local hippie art gallery coffee shop, a buyer placing a down payment.  "Should I tell him? Probably not", I thought.  I brightened, "I'm fine, I can text you that list- save you writing it down!" He paused. "Are you ok?" 

The two scientist looked at each other! "Yer, I'm good. I miss them- but they are toxic and I can have boundaries, not see them, still love them, you know. It's called- self care!"


He thought about my real story as his twenty-something Lena, the goddess character's story! "What would Lena do?"

She will drive to her ex-boyfriend's place to patch things up after having an affair with his best friend (oh sure! I answered, I work Monday-to-Saturday 12 hours per day and flop, the couch potato on Sunday). Lens screams at him, hot, angry salt tears run down her face. He grabs Lena wrist to stop her from slapping him when he calls her a "Whore" And pulls her close to his raging face, saying, "Have you been drinking, you're mother said you had last night?" 

"Huh? I don't drink and drive and it's what- 2pm? And one drink last nite- you're funking crazy! Im leaving!" And for your information he was better in bed than you ever were! Shaking Lena drives her car to return to her family home, her Mother's three divorces were getting to her! Lena hears a siren. Looking in the rear view mirror, it was a police car? "Can you blow in the bag Miss?" He said.

"So did Jock Strap ring you?" The bag revealed zero alcohol.


Luke touched my hand, "Give yourself a break! Close up early and eat with me? I paused, "What would Lena do?" Rolling my eyes, "Yer, you're right. One afternoon off would be good!" Locking the till. "How about that hippie art gallery shop down the road- has a good food and prices-"

Luke raised an eyebrow unconsciously, I was a work-a-holic- a plot twist maybe? "OK-..." Scratching his head. Releasing my bun, my hair fell, "Great- that would be good- umm- just- umm- met me in a half hour- gotta- close up and phone a few customers-" Straightening his backpack, as he turned and walked. "I'll go there now, need a cold drink- heard they have the best banana smoothies- umm they fry and caramelise the bananas before emulsion. Wagging my tail, "Ah there's something I have to tell- well really need to show you when i get there-" I thought, "Lena's will like that one!"
























December 25, 2023 06:44

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