Taxi

(Meat Knickers & Bra) 2009

On TV sets everywhere the image of the twin towers falling down are seen over and over but I'm in a taxi driving through dimly lit streets. She doesn't say a word, but glares at her phone the entire way. The driver is silent also and only the car radio announcing messages interrupts our peace. The streets appear empty, but sometimes in the distance people are walking, I assume they are walking back from a party or to one. I wonder where my friends are now and where my mother is. Probably asleep, probably content somewhere nearby. I know the town well and recognise it even in this light. I've shaved my legs and have perfume on. I feel beautiful, I feel excited. I am uncertain why but since she has been in my life we have often had excitment. We meet often and dance and drink and it is fun. It is how it should be at this time. It stops and she hands the money over to our driver. The car pauses before it leaves and we stand under a street lamp at crossroads I recognise but don't know well. She walks in a direction I do not expect, into darkness and I find it difficult to see my own steps.  At the entrance its dark and she speaks into the box. I have some doubts but feel she knows and will look after me well. The box sounds like the car radio, echoing and abrasive, no matter how soft ones voice truely is. A light turns on and the door unlocks. She opens it and moves quicky towards some cold grey stairs. I follow but do not move as fast as she. It won't take long she claims and I believe. I move faster now feeling safe and calm. The stair are tall and long and I feel they are ugly but continue to carry on. It is cold and dark even with the hall light on. I do not recognise a thing and have never walked up stairs like this before, certainly not in residence. I think how I would not like to live here but tell myself that the place we are now heading is probably posher than expected. We reach the top and a tall man awaits in a doorway. He seems a shadow to me and inbetween his form light from inside shines through. He seems to be on fire as smoke travels through the gaps of light. We enter and the room is small, fogged with smoke. A bed in the living room in the kitchen it is compact and I feel uncomfortable as he strokes her like a cat. I stand alone and ask if he ever hoovers. Once, twice a week he answers, no flicker, no change, no noticing of my innappropriate question. A plant sits on the only windowsill and he tells a funny story about it and I smile, not getting the funny side of his joke. A knock becons on the door and in comes a smaller man, the tall one offers him to me as though I've won a prize. I smile and ask for some water. The smaller one obliges, he seems excited, I'm not sure why. I drink the glass of liquid he hands over to me. I feel tired, I feel weak. She is now helping the tall one change the coach to a bed and I feel I should leave. My phone has no battery. I don't really know where I am, but here is not where I want to be. The small one moves me to the bathroom, inside he locks the door. I ask to leave, I have things to do places to go. It won't take long says he. My clothes are no longer on me and it's cold I can feel the floor is sticky. I want to leave. It won't take long. Stand like this, he falls in the bath. I smile, not good to smile he says. I am suprised to feel sorry. I oblige and spread and bend, then lay and play and spread again. Does this mean I deserve this? It doesn't make sense they don't hoover there twice a week. Blood is on the wall. Should I clean it? No, it won't take long. This isn't working. Wait give me a sec. Now spread, thats it. They can't ever clean this bathroom, definately not the floor, I prefer a clean bathroom mine will always be clean. Bend and bounce and now my turn, do this. I wonder if the TV is still playing the twin towers falling down, I can hear TV sounds next door not from her, definately a TV, its on, I can hear it. If I go on top does this mean the same as when I spread? That I deserve it? I am tired now, it hurts my legs. Shouldn't watch so much TV, need a hobby, maybe I'll start running. I don't exercise and I don't no how to properly spread. Blood is on the floor. I feel strange, what was in the liquid? It won't take long, bend over the toilet. Like this, now spread. I didn't notice a hoover and surely if they hoover I would have seen one, there isn't space to hide it. Blood is on the floor, I want to clean it. He comes out and wipes it with a white towel. It is now red. Massacre and smiles. I think of the twin towers, I guess that was a massacre, but I don't remember seeing red, more grey, like the stairs. Now spread, we haven't finished yet. Maybe a carpet would be better, thats what I would do, but not in the bathroom it might only make it worse, especially without owning a hoover. Can you hear it? That squelch, see you are enjoying it. I wonder who lives in the other flats, I wonder if they can hear. I wonder if they're hoovering or maybe they're watching the twin towers falling on their TV sets. Maybe this is right or maybe its not and I do deserve it. Maybe I shouldn't have shaved my legs but she said it, she suggested it, she told me to, but I said yes, I shaved them, I did it.  It hurts I'm ripped. No its normal. It didn't happen before. It must be the wrong place, let me have a look. I don't know, its okay for me we will just clean it up, see? I wonder about later, I wonder what I will do. What I can eat, I hope it's not the same on all the channels I would like to watch some comedy. Now spread, thats right, now bend and rock and move and spread and bend and bend and spread and spread and spread and spread. Yes. He moves and I am still. He hands me a towel. I rub it upon myself. I wonder how I might leave, I wonder about tomorrow, I remember I have to go to work, I consider what I might wear. The door is open and the chain above the toilet is tugged allowing it to flush, he takes back the towel. I remember I don't have many clean clothes, not as much choice as I had first hoped. The taller man hovers in the doorway, his figure blocks the light from the living room, he looks down and up and down and smiles. I smile, he leaves the doorway. She enters and looks at the wall, she laughs. I feel small. I leave the room and find my clothes, some seem to be missing and things are put on wrong but I want to go. My phone, where is my phone? i ask, where is my phone? They don't know. I'll put my hair up, maybe, tomorrow. I've found it, but the battery is dead. I see a charger, I know it fits. I ask, I smile, in a minute they say, but I want it now. I'll wear heels, I'll wear a skirt I think. They take their time, they stroke her. I take the charger, I break the atmosphere in two. They look at me, I pause, I push it in and allow it to charge. Theres a change in the air, they ask. I tell them about work, about time, about needing to leave. They attempt to comfort me, they hand me a twenty. She says how nice it is of them, what gentlemen, I in my own head am proclaiming insanity. I in my own head have just been paid and all I feel is that I just made a mess. I wonder if it was planned I wonder if she knows, I wonder if I can ring for a taxi. It rings, it rings. They turn up the volume and in return, so do I. I need to leave, I have things to do. I need to be picked up, I need to go, I must leave now. It must be sinking in, a switch has now been turned on, I turn to the smaller one. He asks to meet again, he has my phone and won't let it go. I agree and he puts him number in, then hands it back. I dial for a taxi and the volume is lower, I need it quick, I don't want to be here any longer. They say it is on it way and I relax. I don't want to stay here, they begin to stroke me like a cat. I think of tomorrow I think of tonight. I think of the future and where I might like to go. I no longer feel beautiful and can no longer smell my perfume. I look at the floor, it is dirty, it hasn't been hoovered, definately not. I know that now. Theres a sound, someone is here, I jump up, I am excited and she follows, but I no longer want her near. I don't know how to tell her, I don't know what to say, instead I smile and allow her to follow. We take a walk down the stairs and I notice now that there are neighbours doors. I wonder what they can hear, I wonder if they know, I wonder what they think and if they are just the same. It is cold, it is grey, it is long, but I am happy to go. I walk fast, I am excited. She follows slowly, I turn and agree to return but know that I am lying, but worry that I may not be able to say no. Maybe I do deserve it, if I can't say no, maybe I do deserve it, if I am weak. Maybe I deserve it if I can't spread properly. The driver is the same as before and she jokes that he knows, the smell she says, everyone can tell. I am suprised to feel proud, I want to be grown up and to smell like that, I want to be excited, I want to be suprised. I am happy as the car begins to drive. I am happy to leave .Probably asleep, probably content somewhere nearby. I know the town well and recognise it even in this light. I wonder where my friends are now and where my mother is.  The streets appear empty, but sometimes in the distance people are walking, I assume they are walking back from a party or to one. The driver is silent also and only the car radio announcing messages interrupts our peace. She doesn't say a word, but glares at her phone the entire way. On TV sets everywhere the image of the twin towers falling down are seen over and over but I'm in a taxi driving through dimly lit streets.

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