This column consists of creative pieces written by me. Some might be a continued story, some might be poetry, some might be short stories from start to finish. You never know what you might get so, be ready for anything. I think there are certain impressions and stigmas to what columns are supposed to be like, something sort of like Sex And The City. This column could be anything, which is the beauty of it. Today’s piece is a short story with themes like anxiety and fear at the forefront. The rest is left to the reader’s interpretation.
Enjoy.
Welcome to my column, filled with captivating creative pieces ranging from continued stories to poetry and short stories. Today’s piece revolves around anxiety and fear, leaving the interpretation open to you, the reader.
In the bustling concrete surroundings, the air thickens with impatience and masked individuals. I blend into the crowd, concealing my face except for my eyes. With music drowning out the world, I isolate myself from the chaos. As I step onto the train, the seats offer a chance for connection, but my fear overrides any curiosity. Luckily, it’s late at night, and the train appears almost deserted, occupied only by a few desolate souls on the blue cushions.
Then, I spot him—a tall figure with dark hair, fair skin, and eyes filled with emptiness. I avoid meeting his gaze, sensing his restless energy. He fidgets, taps his foot, and twirls his fingers incessantly. His eyes dart around, unable to find solace. The battle within him rages silently, hidden from public view. Though his face is covered like everyone else’s, he remains more concealed than anyone else. He desires invisibility yet desperately seeks acknowledgment of his presence, aware that it won’t last.
His uneasiness seeps into my being, gripping me tightly, leaving me unable to escape. I start fidgeting, tapping my foot, and twirling my fingers. My eyes shift between the anxious stranger, the dark window beside me, and the floor beneath my feet. He tries to speak to me, but no words emerge. Fear fills the air, suffocating me. Suddenly, the doors open, he exits, and the fear dissipates. I am free from its grip.
To complement this narrative, I’ve chosen Ben Quilty as today’s featured artist. Quilty, an Australian oil painter and social commentator, captures the essence of my writing through his powerful paintings. His works resonate with me, as he bravely confronts society’s ills, amplifying the voices of the voiceless and shedding light on their suffering. Quilty’s art serves as a window to unaddressed privilege, captivating a committed audience across Australia (source: Quilty: Sit Down Bitch. Be Humble., nattysolo.com).
Immerse yourself in the realm of anxiety and fear, as portrayed in this evocative short story. Let the captivating artwork of Ben Quilty deepen the impact and enhance the atmosphere, resonating with the emotions conveyed in this compelling piece. Enjoy the journey.
(Header: Lloydy (2010) by Ben Quilty)
