Joey stared at a painting of some half-goat dude with horns playing pipes while some crazed women danced around him. Probably a Greek god. Zeus? No, the other one.
He looked down at his watch?
You killin’ me here, darling! he thought looking around the large apartment. From the window, he could see the park across the street with its manicured lawns and gardens. Not bad.
Mona lived here. Fancy that. Good looking gal too. Met her last weekend and really hit it off. She said she was a dancer. After a few drinks, they decided to get to know each other a little better and things went from there. He was now waiting for her to go out on a date, but Mona was sure taking her sweet time getting ready.
There was barely any furniture in the apartment, and it was also very sparse in decorations, except for a few pieces like the horned dude with the mad dancing dames.
“Hello?” He said stepping further into the room and looking down a long hallway. “Mona, sweetheart, are you alright?”
“In here!” He finally heard her say.
“Jesus, you nearly gave me heart attack,” he said putting one hand on his chest as he walked down the hall.
“First door on your left.”
“I was just looking at that creepy paint-“
He stopped in mid-sentence when he reached the door. Inside the dim room, a web of white cloths hung at odd angles from walls and ceiling.
A dark figure stood in the middle.
“Mona?” he said spreading his arms and looking around at the room. “What's going on?”
“You wanted us to get to know each other a little better," she said moving towards him, "so I thought we could also have a little fun. Come, sit here in this chair."
With a wave of her hand, a strange discordant song began to play.
“Neat trick, it's like motion sensors…” he said.
She led him by the arm to the chair propped against the wall facing the window. She was nearly an insubstantial shadow in the darkness.
Sitting on the chair, he watched as she retreated, seemingly becoming smaller as she waved her arms; the petals of her tattered gown flowing with each movement.
A light projected onto one of the cloths. An old movie reel of a little girl playing with a man by a pond. She picked flowers and gave them to him. Scenes shifted: a tropical beach, trails in the forest, mountain views, and many other exotic places. There was a woman too, but she stayed behind the camera save for the odd blurry snapshot of her.
Mona danced in front of the flickering images.
The little girl in the movies grew older, and as she did so, the man appeared less frequently in the reels, until he stopped altogether when the little girl had become a teenager. The reels themselves were replaced by countless selfies and video clips of a surly teen expressing happiness, anger, and everything in between.
A piece of cloth turned red.
Mona fell to the floor and writhed as if in a turbulent sea.
Clip after clip were projected onto the clothes, and Mona’s shadow flickered in the digital morass. Her frenzied contortions reached a crescendo with the music, and when she began to moan, Joey stood up and said,
“Enough!”
Mona lay panting on the floor.
“Look, sweetheart, I think you made your point," said Joey moving towards the door. "I get it. I'm not your type. Haha. Funny gal.”
“But where are you going? This was only the first part, Joey!” said Mona laughing. “The next one is called ‘Princess or Crone?’”
Joey stood outside on the street and lit a cigarette.
"Nutty broad," he murmured as he watched with pleasure the curlicues of smoke blow in the crisp late evening breeze. That was the thing about Joey. He was a simple man. He knew he lived in a curious world with all kinds of wacky stuff like surreal art and modern dance, but he liked to keep things simple. He was like that cartoon bear on TV, Winnie something, the one with his jar of honey. That was Joey. As simple as one could get.
Across the avenue near the park, he saw a woman pushing a baby stroller, and he noticed that she dropped something on the ground.
It was her purse. He picked it up and then caught up to her.
“Ma’am,” he said. “You dropped this.”
The woman looked back and her eyes widened when she saw the purse. “Oh my goodness! Thank you so much!”
She shook her head at her carelessness and took the purse. “It’s a been quite a day with the new baby.”
He looked at the sleeping baby in the carriage. “Congratulations!” he said.
“Her name is Elsa, and I’m sure she’s also thankful for your kindness and honesty.”
They exchanged a few pleasantries, and then the woman went on her way
Night had fallen and draped the city in darkness. Up on Mona’s window, the shadows of the projector still danced.
He threw his cigarette on the ground and put it out with the the tip of his shoe, while making a secret pledge to quit the filthy habit.
Goodnight, Mona.
Turning up his collar, he walked along Park avenue and headed towards the station.
Thank you for reading my entry to The Ink Well Challenge #68- Shadow. The emphasis of the piece is on voice. I told the story from the perspective of Joey, a cliché character of America pop culture, but I think all cultures have their own Joeys, and it's always fun to get in their heads.
Image by @litguru
