I named it The Afterlife because I had planned for things to get a little tragic and sad. But the hope I attempt to present is not false. There is hope, even if one may not feel it in the world that they live in.
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During the season of rebirth and hope, the sun was high in the sky as the wind blew the seeds of summer about the busy streets of London. Oh but never forget the fumes of the cars and factories which dwelled in every breath you took, and it was this one particular breath that choked the young man into a fit of coughing. Those who stood about him on the platform held obvious faces of disgust despite their poor attempts to hide it. It was not a popular move to express signs of illness in the confinements of the crowded undergrounds during rush hour, but still the young man could not cease his coughing. Even Thomas felt the need to move away from himself but that was not how things worked. He could only but accept his hoarse throat and saunter apologetically into the tube.
Securing a seat next to an old woman, he immersed himself into the safe comfort of his smartphone. His mother messaged him:
Thomas will you please tell your Luke to quit hanging out so late? he won’t listen to a word his old ma says oh and can you see what cooking pots are good? the one at home is getting rusty
Sighing inwardly, Thomas told her that he would do his best to convince his rebellious teenage brother to stop being a teenager. Not explicitly, of course.
His thumbs races across the world he held in his hands and typed several messages in quick succession. It was no accomplishment in the modern day as his brother could most likely beat him at texting. Just like himself, the millions of individuals in London did the same, though perhaps ‘individuals’ was not the correct term. Thomas mused at the thought.
Not twenty suffocating minutes later, he arrived at his stop; it was a long tube ride so by the time he left, it was no longer so crowded that people had to fight to change their songs on their music players. The sun was setting as he made his way back to his small apartment in a “No ball games” area. The yellow hue of the streets provoked a series of existential thoughts in his head though they were nothing he hadn't pondered about before.
The world before ours was green and brown and yellow in the sun’s line of vision. Now? Now it was grey and red and - most recently - white. Never have I seen a natural stretch of land which remained unchanged over the horizon. Not in the Lake District and certainly nowhere near the city. He walked past the parking lot where typical English-looking trees stood, their roots overgrown and trapped by the concrete of the pavement. Even this piece of grass here is artificial. We destroyed the green that was here before and had to replant it to make it look more...natural. Approaching his building, he pulled his keys out of his black shoulder bag, just like the one he used in high school and college and university. Because this mouldy collection of bricks and metal looks so much better.
Climbing the stairs to his apartment, he smelt the smell of the city: the smell of abused nature. His keys jingling, he opened his door and was relieved to his place untouched. The peeling walls gave way to his bedroom - which could literally only be a bedroom, no more - and his bathroom where the interior design was consistently thorough. The hard wooden planes of his floor gave entrance to his living room where he spent the majority of his life in. His double desk was messy and a gathering of paper was strewn here and there, acting as a carpet in some cases.
Thomas pulled his earphones out, threw his bag onto his bean bags and made his way to the kitchen. It was perhaps four or five meters from his door to his kitchen, cutting across his carpet of paper. There was a type of comfortable silence which Thomas most enjoyed about living far from his workplace. The sense of blissful solitude where he could enjoy his own thinking without having to worry about what others were doing. There was a sense of peace in silence - perhaps that’s why the world is so noisy. Of course, there was the chirping of the birds outside and the cars that pulled in and out of the parking lot and the distant sounds of couples arguing some floors below. However, that was what made silence bearable, otherwise it becomes a burden - which is why I’m doing so well in life. Too much happiness becomes a heavy obligation. Just the right ratio of pain and suffering will fuel that happiness to formulate the perfect result.
His empty fridge presented to him an out of date ready meal he bought yesterday because it was on sale. He put it in the microwave for five minutes. Meanwhile he found his phone to occupy himself with. His thumbed flipped through his pages of applications before he stopped and locked his phone. He looked up and looked back down again, trying to think of something to think of. Unamused, he went back to his phone and checked his empty social networking sites where people posted things not for him.
Going back to the menu screen, he stared at the quick dial to his mother and pressed it. It rang twice before someone picked up.
“Hey mum,” Thomas said, his voice soft and minutely cheery.
“Hey Thomas,” a crackly voice replied. “Mum’s cooking, whatcha want?”
Thomas smiled at Luke’s breaking voice. “Hey Luke, how’re you doing?” He went to boil some water.
“Alright! How about you? I heard you missed me!” Luke laughed down the phone, his boy-ish grin was infectious.
“Of course I miss you, Luke! I miss beating you up ever so much,” Thomas joked, fidgeting with a teabag. “I heard you’ve been going out late recently.”
Thomas could feel Luke sigh. “Mum’s been telling on me huh?”
“She’s worried about you Luke.”
“I’ve just been going to Ben’s house and stuff to play the beta version. It’s so neat!”
“The beta version? That was out like two months ago, bro. I’ll send it to you, it’s not bad.”
Luke sighed loudly. “Dude that’s cool but I just want to hang with Ben--”
“Look, I’m not saying you can’t play with Ken...”
“He’s called Ben and we don’t play.”
“...but mum just wants you at home where she knows you’re safe. If I could, I would spend time with mum too but I can’t so that duty is up to you. You can spend one night at Ken’s and maybe the weekend, but when you’re home don’t just go to your room--”
“I don’t just go to my room.”
“I know you do Luke so don’t argue with me. When you’re home don’t just go to your room and lock yourself in there doing God-knows-what, just chill with mum till dinner time and then help her tidy the stuff back into the kitchen, wipe the table, watch some Britain’s Got Talent with her and you can have the rest of the night to yourself, alright?”
“...fine.”
“And if you behave, I’ll consider getting you a new phone for your birthday.”
“Really? That’s awesome, I’m like the best son you’ll ever have. Well not your son--”
“You’re totally like my non-existent son bro,” Thomas said sarcastically. His microwaved beeped. “Get mum on the phone now, will you? My ready meal’s done.”
Luke laughed. “Ha! You’re eating ready meals!”
“Get lost, you.” There was a bit of shouting and shuffling on the other side of the phone before a gentler voice took over.
“Hi Thomas, how are you sweetie?”
Thomas’ heart swelled up at his mother’s voice. “Hey mum, I’m doing fine. How are you?”
“Oh I’m fine, dear. It’s been a while since we've spoken properly, hasn't it?”
Thomas stirred his lasagna. “Yeah, it’s been busy down here. How’s your back? Does that waist band thing help?”
“Oh yes, dear, but it makes me look fat so I can only wear it at home.” She laughed. “But yes, it heats up and everything. How’s your work? Is it still as boring as ever?”
He laughed and poured himself a glass of water. “It’s actually quite challenging now because they've finished training me so I can take on proper tasks.”
“What about the commute? The travelling in London must be hard.”
Thomas pulled a face as he leaned against the kitchen counter. “It’s okay, not really that different from high school or college. It’s just on a slightly bigger scale with more people; I have to travel further but with a shorter amount of time. So it’s the best of both worlds, really.”
“That’s good then! Have you eaten dinner yet? I've heard that weather down there is going to be bad this weekend.”
“Yeah I've just made dinner. I think the whole of England is going to have a stormy weekend. Anyway, I won’t keep you from dinner so I’ll call you another time. Take care, mum.”
His mother sounded reluctant. “Alright then, you take care too, Thomas. Eat properly, bring an extra jacket when you go outside and sleep at least eight hours a night, sweetie. Don’t work too hard, treat yourself sometimes.”
He smiled. “My treat is having the privilege to treat the most beautiful mother in the world.”
Thomas could feel his mother smile from the other end. “Alright you honey-mouth, get going.”
“Love you.”
“I love you too, son.”
Thomas held his phone to his ear until his mother hung up before he microwaved his lasagna again. Looking around, he somehow ended up with a glass of hot water, a broken teabag in a mug and tea leaves everywhere. He put his hand to his face and laughed at himself. What a fool...]
Thanks for reading if you did. It's going to be a long-term project.
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