Strawberry Fields Forever
Jude.
She was a part of that revolution group and it only meant trouble, Jude knew this but she wouldn't believe him. What happened to the good old days? When they'd be free to do what they wanted and frolicked around the streets of New York without a care in the world. It seemed like so long ago when he'd left his family and girlfriend in Liverpool, he hadn't expected to meet Max and be whisked away in the moment of Lucy's beauty.
He hadn't seen any of it coming and that's what made it exhilarating for him.
Now, however, he struggled with everything that slipped through his fingers. Max had been conscripted into the Vietnam war and the others were in the flat in New York. Lucy and him lived separate lives to them now, despite all the good times they'd had.
Jude sat in the room he'd decked out to be an art studio, fidgeting in the wooden chair as he waited for Lucy to return. He'd gone to her work today, if you could call it that, and caused an uproar. He'd wanted to show her that if she wanted a revolution she could cut him out. He wasn't one to protest for rights and he didn't want her to do it in fear of her being taken away. However, his plan didn't go down as well as he had hoped. She was mad at him for tearing apart the headquarters, her brother was in Vietnam and all she cared about was protests.
It didn't make sense.
The lock sounded and Jude quickly made his way out of the art room, his irritation at his inability to work making him more frustrated by the second. He sat himself in front of their borrowed television as if to feign an interest in the world around him. When the door fully opened his face fell into a scowl, he couldn't help but glare at the head of the protesters, he was the reason Lucy had changed. He was the reason everything changed.
Jude looked quickly at Lucy who gave him a stern look before locking himself in the art room again. He would still be able to hear them in that room but at least he wouldn't feel the urge to beat the guy up for taking his girlfriend away and replacing her with a robot. Jude sat in an angered state for several minutes before hearing the door shut once more, he looked out curiously, cigarette in hand, and found Lucy working away at protest banners.
Jude moved towards her and let out a sigh of frustration. He protested, ironically, against what she was doing in an attempt to persuade her to change her mind. That it was far too dangerous for her, she began to make excuses and explained to him in a stern, almost forced, mature voice that it was her way of doing her bit. She began to talk quickly and gave him sceptical looks as he tried to make her see things his way.He wasn't doing anything according to her, all he was doing was drawing his silly pictures that didn't matter to anyone.
That felt like a bullet to Jude's chest.
He began to shout back at her and once he'd said his peace he made his way towards his art room, even if it didn't matter to her. He threw himself around the room before settling in the chair once more, lighting yet another cigarette and listening to the dull buzz of the T.V outside the room. No doubt Lucy was watching it for more information for her protests, because clearly those things meant more to her than Jude's way of life.
He looked down and saw the pot of strawberries Lucy had left him a few days prior to then. He felt a sudden wave of inspiration and took them in his hand, pinning each strawberry separately to a white canvas, their juices bleeding like the lives lost in the war in Vietnam. Once the new artwork was done he stared at it sceptically, thinking of what other possibilities would allow him to vent his anger out.
The anger he felt got the better of him and he began to throw the remaining strawberries at the painting, his breath becoming ragged as he threw them like grenades at the enemy. The feeling was taking over, he needed to destroy something. Jude threw himself at the painting, taking dark red paint and spewing it everywhere. He covered himself with little flicks of it as he threw his paintbrush back and forth against the canvas, destroying the perfect artwork he had made only seconds before.
Jude smiled as he looked at the finished article. The dark red heart shape, reflecting that of a strawberry, bled through the canvas allowing Jude to let out all his anger as he saw the destruction he had caused. Not even Lucy could protest against him now.
He hadn't seen any of it coming and that's what made it exhilarating for him.
Now, however, he struggled with everything that slipped through his fingers. Max had been conscripted into the Vietnam war and the others were in the flat in New York. Lucy and him lived separate lives to them now, despite all the good times they'd had.
Jude sat in the room he'd decked out to be an art studio, fidgeting in the wooden chair as he waited for Lucy to return. He'd gone to her work today, if you could call it that, and caused an uproar. He'd wanted to show her that if she wanted a revolution she could cut him out. He wasn't one to protest for rights and he didn't want her to do it in fear of her being taken away. However, his plan didn't go down as well as he had hoped. She was mad at him for tearing apart the headquarters, her brother was in Vietnam and all she cared about was protests.
It didn't make sense.
The lock sounded and Jude quickly made his way out of the art room, his irritation at his inability to work making him more frustrated by the second. He sat himself in front of their borrowed television as if to feign an interest in the world around him. When the door fully opened his face fell into a scowl, he couldn't help but glare at the head of the protesters, he was the reason Lucy had changed. He was the reason everything changed.
Jude looked quickly at Lucy who gave him a stern look before locking himself in the art room again. He would still be able to hear them in that room but at least he wouldn't feel the urge to beat the guy up for taking his girlfriend away and replacing her with a robot. Jude sat in an angered state for several minutes before hearing the door shut once more, he looked out curiously, cigarette in hand, and found Lucy working away at protest banners.
Jude moved towards her and let out a sigh of frustration. He protested, ironically, against what she was doing in an attempt to persuade her to change her mind. That it was far too dangerous for her, she began to make excuses and explained to him in a stern, almost forced, mature voice that it was her way of doing her bit. She began to talk quickly and gave him sceptical looks as he tried to make her see things his way.He wasn't doing anything according to her, all he was doing was drawing his silly pictures that didn't matter to anyone.
That felt like a bullet to Jude's chest.
He began to shout back at her and once he'd said his peace he made his way towards his art room, even if it didn't matter to her. He threw himself around the room before settling in the chair once more, lighting yet another cigarette and listening to the dull buzz of the T.V outside the room. No doubt Lucy was watching it for more information for her protests, because clearly those things meant more to her than Jude's way of life.
He looked down and saw the pot of strawberries Lucy had left him a few days prior to then. He felt a sudden wave of inspiration and took them in his hand, pinning each strawberry separately to a white canvas, their juices bleeding like the lives lost in the war in Vietnam. Once the new artwork was done he stared at it sceptically, thinking of what other possibilities would allow him to vent his anger out.
The anger he felt got the better of him and he began to throw the remaining strawberries at the painting, his breath becoming ragged as he threw them like grenades at the enemy. The feeling was taking over, he needed to destroy something. Jude threw himself at the painting, taking dark red paint and spewing it everywhere. He covered himself with little flicks of it as he threw his paintbrush back and forth against the canvas, destroying the perfect artwork he had made only seconds before.
Jude smiled as he looked at the finished article. The dark red heart shape, reflecting that of a strawberry, bled through the canvas allowing Jude to let out all his anger as he saw the destruction he had caused. Not even Lucy could protest against him now.
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