Fear by Hugh Cron

He accepted the night. He always had. The street people never caused him any fear. It was a case of if he didn’t bother them, they wouldn’t bother him. The unapproachable demeanour which he carried also helped.

Every night for the past week he had walked alone puffing on a cigar and swigging from a bottle of rum.

There were people in his life, well, there used to be. Close friends were now replaced with distant memories. Thoughts of them used to make him smile and anticipate, now they only annoyed.

When he was young, his streets, were a no-go area in the early hours. Drunks, junkies and just the plain evil littered the alleyways but now, no-one could be fucked doing anything. Social Problems had been replaced by Social Lethargy. The young would sleep all day and instead of raking the streets at night, they smoked legal highs and played games. The alkies were still alkies but behind closed doors. Junkies, much the same. The ironic thing is there was very little to be scared of anymore.

The desperate in doorways would turn their backs and avoid making eye contact. They were also scared. The fear was from different days. Days that may have been more dangerous but there was some life in them.

Diagnosis stated that he had an issue. He considered this as he enjoyed his surreal eye watching himself walk. He knew where he wanted to go and was sure that he would get there. That and the rum made him feel a whole lot better. The clarity from the streets made him smile.

He headed towards the beach and heard the wailing of two cats either fucking or fighting. He wondered which. The wind became icier as he got closer. The nip in his lungs made him want more of the cigar.

He walked along the seafront until he saw the row of houses that sat behind a piece of perfectly walled parkland. He climbed over the gates and the whole place lit up. He strolled over to one of the mahogany benches and sat down. He flicked his cigar onto the grass and lit another one. He gazed over the wall and could see the darkness where the sea was. He had another drink and toasted the cats. He knew it wouldn’t be long. More fear where it wasn’t necessary.

He could see the flashing lights in the sky heading towards him. There was a screech and he waited on the instructions. They’d be ignored.

He stuffed his hand into his pocket, he knew what it would look like, knew what they would think that they saw. He wanted them to see that too, clearly and without reasonable doubt.

Death by cop, of a nobody, in front of the most affluent, was as poetic as he wanted.

 

Hugh Cron

11 thoughts on “Fear by Hugh Cron

  1. Pleasantly cynical. It almost reminds me of Joyce – the bits of his I managed to read. Is it intentionally dystopian, or am I wrong. An even piece for all that. Well done Hugh.

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    • Hi Des,
      I have to admit I considered this being Dystopian. But I let it go its own way and I feel as if it is set a bit in the future but not too far.
      And I’ll take ‘pleasantly cynical’ any day!!
      Thanks for the comments…Much appreciated.
      Hugh

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  2. Tis the Endless Now of our discontent. Here, even the demons are sheep in sheep’s clothing. A safe world is a dull world. All play and no work makes Jack a enuch. Excellent description of mental guts digesting. Noticed no dialogue.

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    • Hi Leila,
      You set me a challenge when you commented about me using mainly dialogue. I wanted to see if I could put something across by using a different sort of medium for observation.
      But I suppose, in a way, I cheated as inner thoughts aren’t that far away from dialogue.
      Thanks as always, I am honoured at your interest!
      Hugh

      Liked by 1 person

  3. An effective intertwining of social commentary and story of an individual life. The individual is hopeless and society seems not far behind. The atmospheric and in places poetic (“he accepted the night,” “the desperate in doorways”) struck just the right somber tone for the content.

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    • Thanks so much for the kind comments Dave.
      I hadn’t written for a while and managed to put a few pieces together. So far it is one success and one failure and I am awaiting a decision on the last one.
      Even though I am part of this, I still wait the decision with that wee twinge of excitement. And seeing a story up and answering all you wonderful writers really does make my day!!!
      Thanks again.
      All the very best my friend.
      Hugh

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    • Hi Mark,
      Thanks for that.
      And it’s brilliant to see you on here.
      Writers live to write but being commented on comes a close second.
      Looking forward to the 12th!
      Hope you have more for us very soon!
      All the very best my friend.
      Hugh

      Like

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