Monday 29 July 2013

Disco kettles and Darius



The black plastic of the electric kettle had an eerie sheen in the late evening gloom. It was positively spooky the way its innards glowed with an ethereal pink LED light. She bent closer and watched through the illuminated aperture of transparency where you could measure the water.  The light emanating from inside the jug made the bubbling water pulsate to an aquatic disco rhythm. 

The kettle switched itself off and the light disappeared, leaving her in the near darkness of the kitchen, staring gormlessly into nothingness. She splashed water unenthusiastically into two mugs and squished the teabags apathetically against the sides with the back of the spoon. She just couldn’t be bothered anymore. Who was it this time? Darren…Derek…Darius? That was it, Darius. She didn’t know why Amy felt the need to be a serial monogamist when it was so much more fun being a free agent. At least that way she wouldn’t embarrass herself by becoming pathetically and dramatically heartbroken when things inevitably didn’t work. But then, knowing Amy, she probably still would.

As if in acknowledgement, the caterwauling from her bedroom grew louder and echoed down the corridor. She sighed again and tipped the teabags into the bin. Opening in the fridge she paused a moment in the chilly glow of the internal light. She shut her eyes and let the cold wash over her in wispy waves. She just couldn’t fathom the appeal of this repetitive cycle. Hunt for appropriate guy, fall sickening head over heels, the slow realisation (or sudden shock) that he isn’t the one and then the separation and inevitable heartbreak. Not to mention ruining your flatmates silk bedsheets with salty tears and dribbles of snot. Yuck. She shivered and made a grab for the milk. Splashing some into the tea, she fervently hoped Amy’s desperation would be magically cured by the brew. Sometimes it was enough to send her packing to her own bed at least.

She returned the milk to its icy home and ventured forth from the darkened sanctuary of the kitchen with the two mugs. Heartbreak be damned, she wanted some peace.

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