A Dream of Amnesia

Just another quick piece of flash fiction while I’m on my break at work, hope you enjoy it…

She sits, alone in the swirling crowds, alone and buffeted on both sides by an ocean of people attempting to engulf her. Sits on a cracked and aging leather stool, the sickly sweet aroma of stale beer rising from the floorboards, stained black by the heavy tread of a thousand nights of long forgotten drunkeness and revellery. Conversations ebb and flow around her, the wailing laments of those who sacrifice themselves before the altar of a steady job, their only god. The same stagnant conversations overheard night after night inside these walls, erected in stalwart defence of self-pity, to keep reality at bay for an evening. The same complaints about their boring lives and bored housewives, the dreamer’s thrill of a chase most often abandoned, left off before its conclusion.

She has a thing for businessmen – she has father issues, at least in the mind of her therapist – but for her it’s more the promise of being a dirty little secret than a rebellion against her parents’ outdated morality or her own mortality.

Slut. Whore. Homewrecker. Harlot. She has been called these names one hundred thousand times, as teardrops drag mascara downwards in thick black lines fom her eyes, as she tries in vain to control herself. She hears these horrible, hate-filled words as she shouts into the bathroom mirror each morning, her reflection betraying her loneliness and self-inflicted suffering. Apathy is her one desire, apathy and the sweating, momentary embrace of a one-night stand are the only things that could fill the hole inside her chest. A hole, an emptiness that terrifies her more than anything else, an emptiness that weighs more than the memories she is struggling to forget.

She sits alone by the bar, in a red mini-dress and heels, the ivy of her patterened stockings climbing her legs, tendrils pointing out the path to the promised land. Waiting for him. Waiting for any one of a dozen interchangable men she has never met. A man she will try to forget all over again tomorrow.

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7 thoughts on “A Dream of Amnesia

  1. Beautiful. Tragically beautiful.

  2. Jyoti Barry says:

    All too familiar, I really enjoyed that 🙂

  3. susielindau says:

    This is good! I love how emotionally charged this is. She obviously needs to change it up with some self-affirmations. Hahaha!

  4. […] A Dream of Amnesia by ChrisWhiteWrites @chriswhitewrite ~ Slice of Life ~ Debut […]

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