Painted Glass
It was an old building in the middle of a lonely street, a perfect place for mischievous children to play when school has let out and they don't want to go home. The windows are boarded with wood, but the door fell down a long time ago, and was dragged back into the building and hammered shut by concerned parents because children shouldn’t play here.
The back of the building held a secret entrance in the corner of a wall -dug out by squirrels and finished by rascals looking for a place to hide- where it connected to a stair case that's looks like it's been walked down one too many times.
Just past it, a too-bare-room is littered with broken beer bottles and game cards and a pool table sits in the middle of it. A glass window sits directly in front of the decrepit table, shining for whatever audience wandered into the warehouse, made from painted glass and a wire frame.
It towered, nearly as high as the distance from the floor to the ceiling and even though no light came through it the window sparkled, reflecting the light that crept in from the other windows and secret entrances. The sight makes one of them breathless (but it’s only because we ran and I have "smoker lungs") and makes the other one feel peaceful.
The floor is dirty and there’s a sort of fear of weird bugs that might be crawling around and another fear of broken glass and I don’t want glass inside my buttocks, thank you very much. But the other one just laughs and sits him down and disappears and leaves him alone.
--
Sinnan runs because he knows just how scary it can be sitting there alone, and because even though the closest convenience store is almost too far to walk, he wants to make it seem like it wasn’t a big deal.
Breathless, he asks the clerk where they kept the drinks and jogs there and back, cash out and leaning on the counter.
The cashier doesn’t say a word, doesn’t think a word, because it’s not everyday a young lad runs into your store, barely breathing and buys two fizzy, fruity drinks.
“How much?” the boy asks again, and the man is a little frustrated because he’s already said it four times and someone this young shouldn’t have a hearing problem.
“$3.40” he repeats, and the other nods and hands over the money readying himself to run again and asking the cashier to please hurry up with that bag, I’m in a hurry.
--
Si Woo keeps sitting there, in the same position that Sinnan left him in, just staring at the glass, and feeling too holy to light a cigarette.
Did you make this, Sin? he asks himself and decides that it's the first thing he'll say when Sinnan comes back.
He reaches out a hand to watch the shards twinkle behind his fingers, trying to reach for the light and smiling when his arm is painted in multicolour. He twists his hand around, trying to get a better look at the spots of colour and is disappointed when the same shapes are painted on the other side of his arm.
The need of a cigarette becomes too strong for him to bear, and he lights one, carefully and not in front of the mural. Si Woo stands outside and scuffs his shoes on the floor, waiting for Sinnan to come back.
--
The way back is like a video game. Busy streets and busy sidewalks preventing Sinnan from going as fast as he'd like.
Two steps into the street, the light turns green.
Four steps into the street, he doesn't notice the green car, speeding his way.
"Hey! Watch out!"
Five steps and a man in a business suit is pulling him back to the curb with such a force that he's sent flying onto the pavement; scrapes and bruises jump onto his knees and elbows
The back of the building held a secret entrance in the corner of a wall -dug out by squirrels and finished by rascals looking for a place to hide- where it connected to a stair case that's looks like it's been walked down one too many times.
Just past it, a too-bare-room is littered with broken beer bottles and game cards and a pool table sits in the middle of it. A glass window sits directly in front of the decrepit table, shining for whatever audience wandered into the warehouse, made from painted glass and a wire frame.
It towered, nearly as high as the distance from the floor to the ceiling and even though no light came through it the window sparkled, reflecting the light that crept in from the other windows and secret entrances. The sight makes one of them breathless (but it’s only because we ran and I have "smoker lungs") and makes the other one feel peaceful.
The floor is dirty and there’s a sort of fear of weird bugs that might be crawling around and another fear of broken glass and I don’t want glass inside my buttocks, thank you very much. But the other one just laughs and sits him down and disappears and leaves him alone.
--
Sinnan runs because he knows just how scary it can be sitting there alone, and because even though the closest convenience store is almost too far to walk, he wants to make it seem like it wasn’t a big deal.
Breathless, he asks the clerk where they kept the drinks and jogs there and back, cash out and leaning on the counter.
The cashier doesn’t say a word, doesn’t think a word, because it’s not everyday a young lad runs into your store, barely breathing and buys two fizzy, fruity drinks.
“How much?” the boy asks again, and the man is a little frustrated because he’s already said it four times and someone this young shouldn’t have a hearing problem.
“$3.40” he repeats, and the other nods and hands over the money readying himself to run again and asking the cashier to please hurry up with that bag, I’m in a hurry.
--
Si Woo keeps sitting there, in the same position that Sinnan left him in, just staring at the glass, and feeling too holy to light a cigarette.
Did you make this, Sin? he asks himself and decides that it's the first thing he'll say when Sinnan comes back.
He reaches out a hand to watch the shards twinkle behind his fingers, trying to reach for the light and smiling when his arm is painted in multicolour. He twists his hand around, trying to get a better look at the spots of colour and is disappointed when the same shapes are painted on the other side of his arm.
The need of a cigarette becomes too strong for him to bear, and he lights one, carefully and not in front of the mural. Si Woo stands outside and scuffs his shoes on the floor, waiting for Sinnan to come back.
--
The way back is like a video game. Busy streets and busy sidewalks preventing Sinnan from going as fast as he'd like.
Two steps into the street, the light turns green.
Four steps into the street, he doesn't notice the green car, speeding his way.
"Hey! Watch out!"
Five steps and a man in a business suit is pulling him back to the curb with such a force that he's sent flying onto the pavement; scrapes and bruises jump onto his knees and elbows