Nicely Fielding
"Stoic Earth is in the lead but here's Nicely Fielding... Nicely Fielding... Is it? Oh!"
The nailbiting finish to the race was heralded by the shouting commentator as onlookers brought their hats against their hearts. James missed it as he was in the bathroom, fucking a woman dressed in a tiny green dress, as she tried to keep the champagne in its plastic cup. It was a hot day and James was sweating in his open-collared suit and all he could think about as he pushed the slim woman back and forth against the mirror was about how much he wanted to lean over to run the tap for a long drink of water.
"Shit," she said, and hopped down. "Race is over. Let's get out of here."
"Sorry," said James. "Thanks anyway."
"What?" she asked. She grabbed his wrist - her hand was damp. "Come on."
"I'm staying," said James.
Three men walked in, shoving each other and grinning widely. One took off his pinstripe hat and stopped suddenly when he saw the woman. James leant over and turned on the tap. He submerged his face as the water poured coldly over his hands.
"Hey girlie," said one of the men. "Ladies is the other way."
The two others chuckled.
"Fuck you," she said.
"Woah, settle there, no harm meant." said the first man. James looked up as she pushed apart the three of them and left. "So, how's that, boys? Nicely Fielding, I knew he'd come through."
In the milling hall James stood for a few minutes. Drinkers bustled around him, all moving, waving white tickets in the air and laughing with loud heavy breath. James pulled off his coat as he started move, shouldering through the hordes until he came outside, the day hot, the air smelling of chip grease and Jack Daniels. The crowd thinned. He pushed through a turnstile and trodded between cars in row A, then row B, until he found his hatchback. He threw the jacket in the back seat but when he sat inside the car's interior was roasting and it stung his forearms when he leant against the steering wheel.
He retched heavily, his stomach uprising, the water flowing stinking through his teeth and pouring onto the asphalt of the carpark. James was dizzy and the vomitting made him feel no better. Soon his chest's heaves settled and his head began to crack with his heartbeat. There was no relief until the sun receded behind a cloud and even that brief curtain was shortlived.
The nailbiting finish to the race was heralded by the shouting commentator as onlookers brought their hats against their hearts. James missed it as he was in the bathroom, fucking a woman dressed in a tiny green dress, as she tried to keep the champagne in its plastic cup. It was a hot day and James was sweating in his open-collared suit and all he could think about as he pushed the slim woman back and forth against the mirror was about how much he wanted to lean over to run the tap for a long drink of water.
"Shit," she said, and hopped down. "Race is over. Let's get out of here."
"Sorry," said James. "Thanks anyway."
"What?" she asked. She grabbed his wrist - her hand was damp. "Come on."
"I'm staying," said James.
Three men walked in, shoving each other and grinning widely. One took off his pinstripe hat and stopped suddenly when he saw the woman. James leant over and turned on the tap. He submerged his face as the water poured coldly over his hands.
"Hey girlie," said one of the men. "Ladies is the other way."
The two others chuckled.
"Fuck you," she said.
"Woah, settle there, no harm meant." said the first man. James looked up as she pushed apart the three of them and left. "So, how's that, boys? Nicely Fielding, I knew he'd come through."
In the milling hall James stood for a few minutes. Drinkers bustled around him, all moving, waving white tickets in the air and laughing with loud heavy breath. James pulled off his coat as he started move, shouldering through the hordes until he came outside, the day hot, the air smelling of chip grease and Jack Daniels. The crowd thinned. He pushed through a turnstile and trodded between cars in row A, then row B, until he found his hatchback. He threw the jacket in the back seat but when he sat inside the car's interior was roasting and it stung his forearms when he leant against the steering wheel.
He retched heavily, his stomach uprising, the water flowing stinking through his teeth and pouring onto the asphalt of the carpark. James was dizzy and the vomitting made him feel no better. Soon his chest's heaves settled and his head began to crack with his heartbeat. There was no relief until the sun receded behind a cloud and even that brief curtain was shortlived.
posted by bsjezz at 8:27 PM
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