Chairs and Mirrors
The first time became clear after the second. I sat in a chair, not the one I would've chosen. Mouths moved all around me, but the ringing in my ears was louder than the voices. I couldn't hear anything except the ringing, but not the one I wanted to hear. A phone sat in the corner.
I used to work in a chair. Not like this and not one behind a desk either, one behind a wheel. My name was stitched on my shirt. Now a number's stitched on my shirt. I always wondered why they put the names no one cares about in plain sight. The people who boarded my bus sure didn't care. I may as well have been a number back then, too.
There's a mirror in front of me and I thought it was so I could see myself, but I didn't want to see me. Then I realized some folk did want to see me, but didn't want me to see them. It wasn't even me in the mirror. The reflection was just a body that looked like mine, but it wasn't me. The people hiding on the other side didn't see me, they saw a guilty man. I'm not guilty.
Then nothing mattered. The ringing in my ears died down and I could hear voices. They were nice voices and I smiled at the people I couldn't see and felt sorry for them. I looked above the mirror at a clock, almost midnight. The room became quiet and I surrendered.
Then the phone rang.
That was the first time. The second was much the same, and now it's the third and I'm sitting in my chair, wishing it was the one behind a wheel, smiling at the people I can't see. And the phone just ain't ringing.
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Author's Note
Just wondering about the thoughts of an innocent man.
To be published in the January 2012 issue of
Apocrypha and Abstractions - Thanks Cheryl Anne Gardner.
Very effective, enticing: visualizations and storyline.
"they saw a guilty man. I'm not guilty."
That's what they all say.
Kafka. Time crawl into bed & pull the covers over your head. Good mood piece. *
This is so quietly powerful, Foster. Reminds me of Kamby Bolongo Mean River by Robert Lopez. It's so deeply internal. Great. *
Love this. I really really love this, Foster. You subbing this out anywhere?
A silent bomb detonating through my mind. Generous in its brevity.
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Foster, you imprint every story you write regardless of gender, economic background, etc, your way of seeing things is decidely your own. I always see your work as a prelude to a novel, and this is no exception. It's dark in the way of film noir.
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that chair tells many stories, looking in that mirror and not seeing yourself. people seeing a guilty man. Ouch!
The thoughts of an innocent man are never thoughts, Foster, nor are they innocent. I like this piece. Yes. Good writing.
Wonderfully disturbing. "I may as well have been a number back then, too." (for example). *
So much here in all that is not said. Well done.*
Foster, Unsettling and powerful. *
your characters inhabit a mysterious world; the writing brings back unsettling memories of past life therapy. **
Fascinating story!
Wow, Foster, your sense of revealing the story here is just so skillful. You could've made a shocker ending here and chose instead to focus on the character making it so much more powerful.
Fantastic story, so sad, and a shocking ending that I was so surprised by. You are so skillful, and talented, Fos. I always look forward to your work.
Fave.
Foster, this was brilliant. I loved this, could have gone on reading this for hours. Fave. Absolutely.