WORKS OF ART: STILL LIFE WITH ANGEL
WORKS OF ART is an exercise in serial flash fiction, as part of Declaration Editing’s Super-Short Summer Serial Challenge (S4C). Part six, STILL LIFE WITH ANGEL, is below.
“Still Life with Angel”
Syl was glad for the air. In fact she’d never been happier to be sitting on a bench by herself in the middle of the night. Except the girl kept dancing, even though they were away from the music and crowd.
“Can you please stop?” Syl barked.
“What if I die?”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
Angel sat down and inched toward her like a child.
“Have you ever had a night where you thought if you stopped doing something you might die?”
“It’s usually the other way around, sister. Stop doing something, or else you die.”
Angel chortled and put her hand on Syl’s back.
“Why do you insist on touching me.”
She shrugged, stood up and started swaying again. She looked in at the boy who was mopping floors in the restaurant. Boys everywhere, no men, just boys with men’s bodies but little boy brains. The boy in the restaurant was a boy for sure, a sad one at that.
“Do you know him?” she asked Syl.
“Sure. He’s the janitor.”
“Is he sad?”
“The world’s sad, sweetie. Except you I guess.” Syl gave her phone another try.
Angel watched her and started to laugh.
“I think once they’re broke they’re broke.”
“How does a cellphone fall in a toilet?”
“Usually when people are sleeping and peeing like you were.”
Syl leered at her.
“Let me use yours. I need to get home.”
Angel gave her a look that said she was out of luck.
“No phone. Don’t believe in them.”
“Of course you don’t. Could you PLEASE stop moving?”
“I am stopped,” Angel answered. “It’s the world that’s moving and your head that’s spinning. See the stars?”
Syl started to look up then stopped and told the girl to get lost. The last thing she needed was another whacked out conversation. She walked to the corner and stared at the line heading down to The Din. A two-way conveyor belt now, bodies going in and out. She considered pushing her way through, going back down to find Blo. What was the use? She walked back to the bench and asked Angel if she knew the time.
“I don’t,” Angel said. “Don’t believe in them either.” Then she twirled. “Why don’t you come to a party with me?”
“Are there more people like you there?”
“Lots!”
“I’d rather eat fire.”
“Hey, I’m doing that later!”
“Of course you are.”
“So?”
“What?”
“Are you coming?”
“Get lost.”
“OK.” Angel lunged into Syl’s arms and wrapped her in a hug. Syl pushed her away.
“You’re warm,” Angel said.
“I’m freezing.” She shivered.
“I mean inside.”
Then Angel continued away from the downtown, back to the party where she’d been earlier in the night. People were expecting her.
Tags: Declaration Editing, S4C, serial fiction, serial flash fiction, Works of Art
