‘Dad decided he’d better learn to cook. His omelettes were pale snot-green’
The long body of a man again craned over a small stove and
peered into a heavy based pan as an egg bubbled and turned
a pale snot green. He looked up and out of the window above the
stove, casting an eye across the void that sat on top of the A406,
between his block of flats and the neighbouring flats. The air was
thick and although the traffic was some floors below and the noise
was muffled due to the safe guard of brick, plastic and glass, its
turbulence was present and somehow greyed the life in the
opposing windows.
Turning his attention back to the curiously accurate pantone 103 C egg,
he carefully plucked the pan from the stove and in one confident movement
flipped the omelette, returned it to the flame and patiently allowed it rest
and cook the other side. Again he looked up and consulted the dull windows
of the neighbouring flats, looking hard into each as though searching
for an answer.
His face fell as no answers were forthcoming and with a sharp movement
he swiped up the pan and tipped the green omelette onto a deep butchers
chopping block. Wetting his fingers under the tap next door to the stove,
he plucked up the hot omelette and swinging open the pantry door with
his foot, draped it on a clothes line along side two other snot green pancakes
and a small gold bell, which gently tinkled as the line was disturbed.
The long man returned to the flickering roar of the stove and turned it off.
As it expired with a gasp he picked up an old red pair of theatre binoculars,
which sat next to the kitchen soap and again scrutinised the neighbouring
windows. Through the haze a window down to the lower third of the building
lit up, enticing the red binoculars to hastily observe. The window framed the
bobbing up and down of a blonde mop of hair, that in return framed the pale
face of a young girl struggling to drink from a tap.
The man’s mouth smouldered at the corners with a smile and slowly he
stretched out his right leg and edging his foot in the direction of the pantry,
he probed the bottom corner of the closed door with his large big toe. His
head remained embedded in the red plastic receptacle and his eyes struggled
to observe the girl through the poor magnification it offered. The pallid girl
finished lapping water from the tap and opened a door to her left.
As she did this the man sucked in air and careful not to breath loudly,
angled his ear in the direction of the pantry door. He could hear nothing
except the occasional drip of water from the sink to his left, which
disturbed his concentration. He shifted his weight across and tightened
the tap to stop the drip, as he did this a gentle tinkle came from the pantry.
His ears pricked, nothing more could be heard, slowly he shifted his
weight back and careful not to make a sound, gently curled his big
toe around the bottom of the pantry door. A moment passed then the bell
from inside aggressively rang. The toe gripped the door and swung it open,
inside only the ringing gold bell gently rocked back and fourth
on the clothes line.
The man, once more engaging the binoculars to his eye sockets,
explored the windows across the boisterous tarmac of the A406.
Immediately locating the girl he could see her gently nibbling a green
omelette, his mouth parted with a crack and air escaped bemused. His
attention was then distracted to high up the building where the haze
thinned and the light grew beautiful. Inside the very top window, which
appeared to span the whole building, a pin striped suit sat eating a two
tiered green omelette.The red binoculars fell from our man’s face, his
lips again met and throat deeply swallowed.
After three snagged tuts from the second hand of the blue clock that
clung to the back wall of the kitchen, the man’s long body once again
struck up the stove, cracked two eggs, added a splash of milk and
carefully plopped in two drops of pantone 103 C colouring, before
dutifully whisking and pouring into the heavy based pan. The pantry
stood momentarily empty, awaiting yet another pale snot green omelette
to generously leak into the world that resided over the A406.
Headlines are reactions, thoughts and warblings
on curious newspaper headlines.
