5. Out at Night
I rested my cheek on the surface of the chipped fibreboard table, the sepia-tinged strip lights humming above my head. It was another cold night. Hours earlier, I had decided to venture out from my meagre apartment to eat in the city, I regretted it now. Glum, I looked out the windows. Above the port, the sky was the colour of a television, tuned to a dead channel. Yet the moon was visible. Just barely though, forcing its head through a thick lacquer of chrome-stained clouds. Bright neon lights illuminated the scene, pulsing in their set rhythms.
I looked up, moths hovered in the humid air, swarming over the lights like flies on a carcass. A television hung in the corner of the shop; the CNN logo burned into its screen. A man stared at me from behind the counter, looking me up and down with his eyebrows drawn. I sat up, feeling more tired still, pockmarked fingernails scratching idly at the bowl of my meal.
I remembered what life used to be like, back in sunny Amalfi, with the azure glare of the ocean whipping across your vision. Everywhere you looked, there were buildings, hundreds of flat-topped terraces lining the roads which sloped over the city. I breathed in, tasting that familiar salty tang of the ocean air as it hit the back of my throat, the crunchy taste of the persimmons and the smoothness of the figs. I regarded the city, content, taking in the saturated surroundings before –
Bang
My head thudded sharply against the table, jerking me back to reality. I grimaced, the fetid stench of the overcooked sprouts in my bowl hung like a miasma around me. I sank lower in my seat under the judgmental gaze of the impatient shopkeeper. “we’re closed,” he told me, “Out now”, he sneered, clarifying.
Suddenly, a desire to escape this waking nightmare overcame me. Clawing my way out from under the oppressive stink of the cheap noodle house, I stumbled to the door, a migraine forming behind my eyes. I rested my hand on the surface of the chipped metal door handle, the sepia-tinged strip lights showing a glare in the painted steel. I looked out into the cold night and, comforted by the warm memories of my childhood and the shifting static of the sky above me, I stepped into the filmy drizzle of the city.