Miss Lonely
The Sea part 2
The self-perpetuating drinking intensified Auden’s urge of getting to Magnolia. He had to do it right away. He heard the sea calling him, and he had to let go of the safe driftwood. He returned to the streets, and the bar drifted away from him. The clouds had vanished, leaving an open sight to the blue midnight stars. Auden nearly walked into a traffic sign by looking up into the sky - that happened to him time and again when walking under the stars. The universe was the only thing he could think of mightier than the sea. He strolled around the streets looking for a red phone booth, from which he could find Magnolia’s adress in the phone book. He walked in what seemed and eternity, and he was losing hope. Copper Village did not have many phone booths. The buildings looked taller than they actually were, stealing great parts of the tender sky from Auden’s sight. The focus of his eyes were moved down to street level where he saw the red phone booth arise in front of him. He stood for a while, simply looking at it. The last time he was in it, he heard the actual voice of Magnolia, the apartment-girl. That was a dreamlike experience and at the time, he recoqnized her voice right away, and it made him fall right into the night. It seemed like he spent that whole night speaking to her in the phone booth, despite the fact that he didn’t say one word. He walked closer to the booth, opening the heavy door, entering the warmth once again. He unzipped his jacket. The room was quadratic. He was captured in the center. He felt a sense of belonging in the red phone booth. A safe window to the world, wherein he could pretend that he was busy, while actually simply observing the night. Comparable to being lowered into the pacific ocean in a shark case, surrounded by sharks. The sharks not being able to reach the weak human inside the case - and the human being able to safely observe the sharks at close range.
Auden opened the phone book, looking for Magnolia. He found her right underneath the other Magnolia, who agewise were in the mid-hundreds. She lived in the western part of Copper Village. Rami’s apartment was in the southern Copper Village, and the phone booth somewhere inbetween. Auden said goodbye to the red phone booth, and turned back to the streets, zipping his jacket back up again. He had a reasonable idea of where to go, and on the way he saw a small record store. The walls were beige and had two relatively large windows with a fairly wide gap between them. In that gap, street artists had seized the opportunity, and painted a black and white portrait of Bob Dylan. He was wearing a black suit, and his eyes were covered by black sunglasses. He was staring. Observing the bypassers. Works like that was what made Auden enjoy Copper Village. Spontaneous, subtle impressions like a black and white Bob Dylan on a beige wall placed between two dirty windows. Auden proceeded his thoroughfare through the wilderness of Copper Village. He turned in to a small road where the street was covered in cobblestone. That was the street on which Magnolia had her adress. The buildings weren’t noticeably big, and it seemed like an image from a smaller town. He walked down the street, further and further away. He felt smaller and smaller as he felt like reaching the end of that never-ending road. He reached the right building. It was bordeaux red, and the door to the staircase was open. The walls were mellow, and the stair was wooden and squeaky. It was an old building. He walked up the stairs slowly, while looking for the door with her name on it, making as little noise as possible. His heart was pounding as he approached the moment of collision. The alcohol had worn off, and that only made him more nervous. He felt like walking past a hundred doors, even though the building only had five apartments. He reached the top of the stairs. Only one door was left. It was white and wooden. Her name was on it. Magnolia. He knocked on it three times. He felt the same feeling as when calling her from the phone booth, except that he couldn’t simply hang up when standing in front of the door. He couldn’t run away either. She was coming, and she was going to open the white, wooden door. Auden looked to his right, where he would see a painted picture of an old man standing alone in a desert. On his shoulders he carried a cat. A grey, siamese cat.
Auden opened the phone book, looking for Magnolia. He found her right underneath the other Magnolia, who agewise were in the mid-hundreds. She lived in the western part of Copper Village. Rami’s apartment was in the southern Copper Village, and the phone booth somewhere inbetween. Auden said goodbye to the red phone booth, and turned back to the streets, zipping his jacket back up again. He had a reasonable idea of where to go, and on the way he saw a small record store. The walls were beige and had two relatively large windows with a fairly wide gap between them. In that gap, street artists had seized the opportunity, and painted a black and white portrait of Bob Dylan. He was wearing a black suit, and his eyes were covered by black sunglasses. He was staring. Observing the bypassers. Works like that was what made Auden enjoy Copper Village. Spontaneous, subtle impressions like a black and white Bob Dylan on a beige wall placed between two dirty windows. Auden proceeded his thoroughfare through the wilderness of Copper Village. He turned in to a small road where the street was covered in cobblestone. That was the street on which Magnolia had her adress. The buildings weren’t noticeably big, and it seemed like an image from a smaller town. He walked down the street, further and further away. He felt smaller and smaller as he felt like reaching the end of that never-ending road. He reached the right building. It was bordeaux red, and the door to the staircase was open. The walls were mellow, and the stair was wooden and squeaky. It was an old building. He walked up the stairs slowly, while looking for the door with her name on it, making as little noise as possible. His heart was pounding as he approached the moment of collision. The alcohol had worn off, and that only made him more nervous. He felt like walking past a hundred doors, even though the building only had five apartments. He reached the top of the stairs. Only one door was left. It was white and wooden. Her name was on it. Magnolia. He knocked on it three times. He felt the same feeling as when calling her from the phone booth, except that he couldn’t simply hang up when standing in front of the door. He couldn’t run away either. She was coming, and she was going to open the white, wooden door. Auden looked to his right, where he would see a painted picture of an old man standing alone in a desert. On his shoulders he carried a cat. A grey, siamese cat.