Gavin Luper
12th April 2007, 01:33 AM
G'day.
This is a (very) short story I had to write for Uni, so I thought I'd post it here as well. I tried using a different technique here, but it didn't turn out quite as well as I thought it would, so criticisms and suggestions would be great.
The Silent Man
Not everyone is cut out for my line of work.
So many people think they know everything about what I do. But they don’t know how many people struggle in an occupation like mine. They don’t know of all the silent casualties that nobody ever talks about.
I gave myself a small shake. It was hardly the time to be drifting off into deep thought. Through the misted windscreen I scanned the dark car park around me and gave a sigh: there was still no sign of movement. I was still alone.
I stifled a yawn and swilled the dregs of my coffee around in the bottom of the take away cup. It was probably cold by now. I drained it and grimaced. Yep. Stone cold and bitter as hell.
No solace there.
I returned to surveying the car park. What was taking so long? The digital readout of the car clock said it was ten to five already. Had they slept in? It wouldn’t have really surprised me if they had, because I’d found it hellish to haul myself out of bed at 4am. Leaving my wife and baby alone. Stumbling through pitch darkness and frigid needles of rain to get to the car. Driving half an hour only to sit in waiting.
The things we do for money.
Finally. The headlights appeared from nowhere. The van rolled up to the opposite end of the car park, close to the warehouse, and shuddered to a halt with an unearthly rattle. Two blokes got out, both taller and more muscly than me. Without giving any indication that they had seen me, they approached the back door of the neglected-looking warehouse and disappeared into the darkness within.
So. I guess that was my cue.
I jumped out of my car. It was even colder outside than it had been within the cabin – my breath was coming out in icy puffs of mist. Keen to get inside as soon as possible, I double-checked that I had my knife in my pocket before pelting across the wet metal dust to the back door of the old warehouse.
I opened the peeling blue door and emerged into total blackness. The other men hadn’t turned the lights on. I stood stock-still and listened for a minute, but the warehouse was silent. It seemed like the others had disappeared. I shuffled forward slowly, feeling along the wall for the light switch as the silence and the darkness pressed in on me. Just as my finger flicked the switch, I felt something rough snare me by the ankles, and I hit the concrete like a sack of potatoes.
~
Ouch.
The lights blazed on as I opened my eyes. I put a hand to my head and looked down at my feet to see what I had tripped over. It was a thin, snaking piece of rope, looped at one end so it made what looked like a noose. It reminded me of a bloke I’d heard about a few weeks ago. He had the same job as me. He hated it as much as I did, felt as useless as I always did. He never said a word to anyone.
His wife found him hanging in their garage one morning.
I picked up the rope and examined it closely.
Imagine never having to do this shit job again …
Before I could even stand up, there was a shout.
“Dave!”
I spun around, rope still in hand. The two blokes stood at the other end of the warehouse, staring at me with disdain and confusion.
“David! Whadda you thinka you doing down there? Itsa five o’clock! You late again!”
I sat there like a dumb rabbit caught in the headlights. “Uh, but Mr. Scolari, I was here at four-thirty – you only just got here!”
The big Italian man pretended not to hear me. “Basta, basta! Get up! You listen to Rocco now, he tell you what to do.” He shuffled off into the store angrily.
The bigger bloke, Rocco, scowled at me from the other side of the warehouse.
“Got yer knife?” he grunted.
I pulled the box-cutter from my pocket and flicked it open. “Yeah.”
“This the first time yer done this shift?”
“Yeah.”
He smirked and waved his hand at the left wall of the warehouse. “Twelve pallets come in last night. You gotta split them and organise them properly onto these ten empty pallets. Should take you all day. Got that?”
“Righto,” I said. And he left me to it.
This is a (very) short story I had to write for Uni, so I thought I'd post it here as well. I tried using a different technique here, but it didn't turn out quite as well as I thought it would, so criticisms and suggestions would be great.
The Silent Man
Not everyone is cut out for my line of work.
So many people think they know everything about what I do. But they don’t know how many people struggle in an occupation like mine. They don’t know of all the silent casualties that nobody ever talks about.
I gave myself a small shake. It was hardly the time to be drifting off into deep thought. Through the misted windscreen I scanned the dark car park around me and gave a sigh: there was still no sign of movement. I was still alone.
I stifled a yawn and swilled the dregs of my coffee around in the bottom of the take away cup. It was probably cold by now. I drained it and grimaced. Yep. Stone cold and bitter as hell.
No solace there.
I returned to surveying the car park. What was taking so long? The digital readout of the car clock said it was ten to five already. Had they slept in? It wouldn’t have really surprised me if they had, because I’d found it hellish to haul myself out of bed at 4am. Leaving my wife and baby alone. Stumbling through pitch darkness and frigid needles of rain to get to the car. Driving half an hour only to sit in waiting.
The things we do for money.
Finally. The headlights appeared from nowhere. The van rolled up to the opposite end of the car park, close to the warehouse, and shuddered to a halt with an unearthly rattle. Two blokes got out, both taller and more muscly than me. Without giving any indication that they had seen me, they approached the back door of the neglected-looking warehouse and disappeared into the darkness within.
So. I guess that was my cue.
I jumped out of my car. It was even colder outside than it had been within the cabin – my breath was coming out in icy puffs of mist. Keen to get inside as soon as possible, I double-checked that I had my knife in my pocket before pelting across the wet metal dust to the back door of the old warehouse.
I opened the peeling blue door and emerged into total blackness. The other men hadn’t turned the lights on. I stood stock-still and listened for a minute, but the warehouse was silent. It seemed like the others had disappeared. I shuffled forward slowly, feeling along the wall for the light switch as the silence and the darkness pressed in on me. Just as my finger flicked the switch, I felt something rough snare me by the ankles, and I hit the concrete like a sack of potatoes.
~
Ouch.
The lights blazed on as I opened my eyes. I put a hand to my head and looked down at my feet to see what I had tripped over. It was a thin, snaking piece of rope, looped at one end so it made what looked like a noose. It reminded me of a bloke I’d heard about a few weeks ago. He had the same job as me. He hated it as much as I did, felt as useless as I always did. He never said a word to anyone.
His wife found him hanging in their garage one morning.
I picked up the rope and examined it closely.
Imagine never having to do this shit job again …
Before I could even stand up, there was a shout.
“Dave!”
I spun around, rope still in hand. The two blokes stood at the other end of the warehouse, staring at me with disdain and confusion.
“David! Whadda you thinka you doing down there? Itsa five o’clock! You late again!”
I sat there like a dumb rabbit caught in the headlights. “Uh, but Mr. Scolari, I was here at four-thirty – you only just got here!”
The big Italian man pretended not to hear me. “Basta, basta! Get up! You listen to Rocco now, he tell you what to do.” He shuffled off into the store angrily.
The bigger bloke, Rocco, scowled at me from the other side of the warehouse.
“Got yer knife?” he grunted.
I pulled the box-cutter from my pocket and flicked it open. “Yeah.”
“This the first time yer done this shift?”
“Yeah.”
He smirked and waved his hand at the left wall of the warehouse. “Twelve pallets come in last night. You gotta split them and organise them properly onto these ten empty pallets. Should take you all day. Got that?”
“Righto,” I said. And he left me to it.