Another Planet

A darkly thick green light defines this late night dawdler. He’s invisible but for the glow of the emergency exit sign- it's the only thing turned on in this decomposing hotel. In emerald shadow he sits in front of final one o’clock beer, a lank newspaper there also. Someone had sex with someone else, or so some other alleges. As you approach, he fixes you with hobgoblin eyes aside unfathomable frown. He’s angry red by day and all hellish scowl, the warmth of the day’s sun emanating from his still half naked wrinkled body. He’s Earth-bound, no doubt, but his skin looks like the surface of another planet entirely.

A Moment, Monday

Tonight was going to cause problems, this much he knew. Whether adorned with nervous silences and downcast eyes or the belly laughs he hoped for, trouble waited for him somewhere ahead. Right now it was hidden from view, but he could already detect a faint, mischievous giggle. He tried to tell himself that it would be fine, that after all this time things would have probably changed. Unconvinced, his inner realist leant back, raised its eyebrows and silently folded its arms.

He couldn’t concentrate. Equipment hummed around him, analysis tools with flickering lights vied impatiently for attention. He turned them off, uselessly. He picked up his bottle of water and walked to the open office window, filling his lungs with the warm sea air and watching the lawn gallop in the breeze. He loved the weather here. Something was always happening. It made a sort of sense. Slowly, calm returned.

His stomach twitched pleasantly; a result of dread and excitement in equal measure. Walking back to his desk, the sea breeze still on his neck, he accepted that after tonight it would be over, finally and forever. Even that turned out to be wrong.