Words by me

“You lucky bastard!” someone screamed. Loud music bounced bodies. Occasionally a drunken reveller would spill out of the front door and onto the front step. This ordinary semi-detached council house had never held so many people or been the focus of so much delight.

A few smokers milled about in the front garden, disregarding the neat rows of petunias. “I can’t believe it’s happened to him though. I mean, him. Calvin,” someone said to someone else.

Inside the house, alcoholic sweat had fermented on the ceiling and was now dripping back down on people’s heads. Music that Calvin didn’t even like was rattling some of his mother’s ornaments; a brass thing from Cornwall and a few china thimbles. Approximately every ten minutes Calvin wondered if the party was getting out of hand. Worry, wonder, forget.

“Calvin!” Here came Rebecca. “There’s a man outside- from the…papers. Not sure which. Didn’t ask. Asked me if you’re here.” Rebecca was very drunk. Calvin enjoyed the wonky look in her eyes. She swayed out of time with the music and for a moment he thought she might collapse. She looked sleepy, but then a bouncing dancer bumped her and her eyes widened. “So… are you here for the…interview?”

“I just…I’m not sure that I should have interviews when I’m drunk. I’ve been drinking since Ed arrived. And he arrived at… what time is it? Do journalists work this late? I don’t know…maybe tell him that I’m not Calvin. I mean, just don’t tell him I’m anyone. You know…tell him Calvin isn’t really here at all. Not today anyway. Say he’s in Cornwall. With his mum. For the next week. And they’re not contactable.”

“Is that all?” Rebecca said with a smirk.

“Calvin you lucky bastard!” screamed John, an old acquaintance. Calvin couldn’t respond to another person saying the same thing, so he didn’t. He looked tired and drunk.

“Are you okay?” asked Rebecca. “You don’t look…happy enough.”

“Oh? Well…I’m confused, mainly. Mainly just confused. It’s just the weirdest thing that’s ever happened to me. And I can’t quite…I can’t…I don’t know if I’m asleep, and dreaming, or…”

“But of course you’ll feel like that!” Rebecca was jostled again by the dancing throng. “It’s amazing! You probably need to get used to it. Tomorrow it might make sense.”

“But I didn’t buy a ticket. That’s what I don’t get. That’s why I’m confused. I never bought a ticket. I don’t buy tickets. How can you win if you don’t buy a ticket?”

(Picture courtesy of Wlodi)