Mark Smith (2009)

[WINZ office]


‘Hello love’ I say ‘How was your day? Would you like some Coffee?’
Jacqui nods and looks away from me, an unwanted atmosphere permeates the kitchen.

‘Why? Why the hell is it me that loses my job again???’
Tears mix with rage on her beautiful face — woebegone floods and incandescent furies combined.
Anger rips around the room like a rolling crash of thunder.

‘It’s just so bloody unfair, they’ve given me no chance; how can I prove myself to them in two blasted months? Christ almighty, what have I got to do? WHAT???’
A breath; ‘FUCK! SHIT! FUCK!!!’
The coffee cup splinters into shards as it hits the wall.

Thank God it’s empty.
I make sympathetic noises, while wondering what to do next.

‘Oh for God’s sake stop being so bloody patronizing, it’s not your job you’ve lost. I don’t need your fucking sympathy ... I need my job!!’

I back off; keep my distance taking my cup with me, not wanting its death on my conscience. Bewilderment, I’m not at all sure how to react.

‘Sorry love, I know you mean well, it’s not your fault. I’m going to the gym. I’ll feel better after that.’
CRASH — the front door smashes shut. A quieter echo follows as the car door slams taking a turn in Jacqui’s self prescribed therapy.
A shriek of anguish reaches me as the car’s engine screams to the limits of her pain, the tires shriek as they leave long black memorials to her fury on the concrete.



Stillness reverberates around the house.

But what the hell are we going to do?

© Mark Smith

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