They were coming again.
Time used to run sweet like molasses, as timeless as halcyon summer days. Now it's like tar; darker and certainly more sickly, devoid of the fresh notes that sometimes come with living.
She picks her head up slowly from where she sits, the hands folded in her lap as limp as her rarely washed hair. Tani has not been 'living' for some time, shut up in the low-lit room. The concrete walls were halfheartedly painted a dusty blue color in some misguided attempt to be 'calming.' All it really does is remind her of the sky when it was veiled by early morning mists.
The TV is her only company in the room except for her scheduled visitations, blaring from the top corner. The woman is well aware that it's purposefully kept out of reach; they didn't want her cutting herself on the screen if she managed to destroy another television in a fit of desperate outrage. She stays opposite of it, able to watch but as far from it as she can possibly get from both the television and the door. Tani can honestly say that there is more in her life that makes her sad than makes her angry, but the television is one of those few things that brings her utter despair late at night. Maybe they were convinced that she would eventually see she was helping make 'beautiful relationships.'
All she could see is them whoring out happily ever afters.
It was all because of simple bad luck that she had come to be here, Tani knew that. And that run of bad luck would probably last until the end of her life, whenever it was decided that would be. There's only a breath of fear as she contemplates her mortality, knowing that it was entirely dependent on how long she was profitable. It seemed that the Board had recently been struck by the idea that she was a finite resource.
Finite resources, rare resources meant higher prices. Even the advertisement warns the people about how unique their product is. 'Their' product.
The TV is sneaking into her thoughts again, the softly insistent violins drawing her attention. The aim of the advertisement was to be 'tasteful' and it was, considering the subject matter. She supposed she should be grateful that they hadn't turned it into an infomercial for the early mornings, extolling the product yielded from her veins, forged into wedding bands that may as well be bars. There was inherent artistry with black and white filming, using the climbing of the chords to reach a crescendo of sound. . . all overlapped with the use of words that were emotionally charged. Where diamonds were supposed to last 'forever' and cost only two months' salary, this set of commercials, accented with soft yellow in key areas never made note of the cost.
If you wanted to know the monetary cost, it would be too high for you. In a world where so many people were falling apart (and so were their marriages), this was a commodity that would make anyone wistful. Instead of a 'forever' this commercial promised you a relationship that would last, make the time remaining irrelevant for the individuals purchasing the jewelry. It was a guaranteed until death do you part, without the possibility of murder for insurance purposes.
She had been here long enough that the sun shadows had faded from her skin. The once ruddy complexion had begun to blanch under the abrupt lack. Tani's dark eyes pull back into focus, tracking the scars of various whites and pink that litter her hands, threads of unwilling donation. Moving the hands stretched some scars, made others wrinkle. Each one had its own personality indelibly added to her flesh.. She remembered them.
Every. Single. One.
The TV is her only company in the room except for her scheduled visitations, blaring from the top corner. The woman is well aware that it's purposefully kept out of reach; they didn't want her cutting herself on the screen if she managed to destroy another television in a fit of desperate outrage. She stays opposite of it, able to watch but as far from it as she can possibly get from both the television and the door. Tani can honestly say that there is more in her life that makes her sad than makes her angry, but the television is one of those few things that brings her utter despair late at night. Maybe they were convinced that she would eventually see she was helping make 'beautiful relationships.'
All she could see is them whoring out happily ever afters.
It was all because of simple bad luck that she had come to be here, Tani knew that. And that run of bad luck would probably last until the end of her life, whenever it was decided that would be. There's only a breath of fear as she contemplates her mortality, knowing that it was entirely dependent on how long she was profitable. It seemed that the Board had recently been struck by the idea that she was a finite resource.
Finite resources, rare resources meant higher prices. Even the advertisement warns the people about how unique their product is. 'Their' product.
The TV is sneaking into her thoughts again, the softly insistent violins drawing her attention. The aim of the advertisement was to be 'tasteful' and it was, considering the subject matter. She supposed she should be grateful that they hadn't turned it into an infomercial for the early mornings, extolling the product yielded from her veins, forged into wedding bands that may as well be bars. There was inherent artistry with black and white filming, using the climbing of the chords to reach a crescendo of sound. . . all overlapped with the use of words that were emotionally charged. Where diamonds were supposed to last 'forever' and cost only two months' salary, this set of commercials, accented with soft yellow in key areas never made note of the cost.
If you wanted to know the monetary cost, it would be too high for you. In a world where so many people were falling apart (and so were their marriages), this was a commodity that would make anyone wistful. Instead of a 'forever' this commercial promised you a relationship that would last, make the time remaining irrelevant for the individuals purchasing the jewelry. It was a guaranteed until death do you part, without the possibility of murder for insurance purposes.
She had been here long enough that the sun shadows had faded from her skin. The once ruddy complexion had begun to blanch under the abrupt lack. Tani's dark eyes pull back into focus, tracking the scars of various whites and pink that litter her hands, threads of unwilling donation. Moving the hands stretched some scars, made others wrinkle. Each one had its own personality indelibly added to her flesh.. She remembered them.
Every. Single. One.
That was really well done. The first one was good.
ReplyDeleteIt feels like it was practice for this, though. You've hit a stride. It's a good idea that you have, and the implementation is rather strong. There are so many quotables in here.
"Whoring out happily ever afters."
Damn.