fiction by BeaG

BG 340 – The escalator

Sigh… The middle-aged woman is still standing neatly upright, holding her shopping bag against her with both hands, halfway up the stationary escalator. Almost all the lights in the store are already off…

Over an hour ago, she had reflected that this clothing store, which had once been so familiar to her, had changed a great deal since she had last been there years ago. The quality of the garments had noticeably deteriorated, she thought, while the prices had actually risen sharply. And the staff – who looked very young in her eyes – hadn’t even offered to help them! It was getting close to closing time now, and as she made her way to the escalator, she saw that she was the only customer still wanting to go upstairs. Just a quick trip to the shoe department. At least, that was what she had led her new neighbor to believe. The (younger) neighbor who had urgently needed to go home because she had to attend a meeting after dinner – a meeting! – and who had asked her worriedly, or patronizingly, if it would be alright, her going up alone on that modern escalator and then back home alone by bus. Of course it would be fine! How old did she think she was? In reality, by the way, she didn’t go to the shoe department at all, but to the plus-size department, which was also upstairs.

The two blouses she had bought earlier that afternoon in another clothing store under the approving eye of her neighbor, and which she knew perfectly well were two sizes too small for her, even though she had taken them into a fitting room and pretended she had tried them on, she would return sometime early next week. Fortunately, her neighbor hadn’t yet seen her without her loose light gray summer coat or that old baggy sweater from yesterday. After a slight hesitation, she pressed the button and sure enough, the green light came on and the escalator started moving silently.

By the way, that escalator was also a striking change here. A large sign next to it explained that …

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BG 331 – You have to cooperate!

Six months after moving abroad, I hit a concrete wall. A figurative concrete wall. Years of chronic health problems that went undiagnosed or were diagnosed too late, and everything involved in handling a permanent move abroad, took their toll. The ambulance crew my husband had summoned just in time saved my life that day, as I only realized in hindsight. I was admitted to the medium care unit of the nearest hospital in the nearby city.

What I remember most about the ambulance staff is that they pushed furniture and my husband aside to make room to strap me onto a stretcher. They talked to me, sometimes calmly, sometimes urgently, but their words didn’t register with me. The drive to the hospital, with flashing lights and sirens, seemed to last about two minutes. In reality it must have been fifteen minutes. Time and again multiple alarms sounded simultaneously in the cramped space where they were trying to stabilize my condition while driving. The loud noises, it felt to me, were never silent for longer than a single exhalation at a time.

I also remember being asked for my name. ‘Bea,’ I said, proud that I had understood the question and even knew the answer. I had to repeat it several times before they understood me. After what felt to me like bouncing for three seconds over a cobblestone road, they asked for my name again. ‘Still Bea,’ I answered more clearly this time. That was probably the moment they knew I was going to make it. It wasn’t until days later that it became clear to me that I had been in diabetic shock and that the ambulance crew had managed to save me just in time before I would have slipped into an irreversible coma. To me, that all seemed a bit exaggerated. I had just been tired, incredibly tired. Life had thrown just a few too many challenges at me.

After a night and half a day in the medium care unit, I was …

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BG 316 – Find the thief

At exactly five o’clock she shut down her computer, put on her coat, and hung her bag over her shoulder. The office was already deserted. Her colleagues had, as usual, snatched a few minutes from their work time. She hadn’t responded to their enthusiastic cries of ‘Have a nice evening!’ and ‘See you tomorrow!’ all these years, and no one expected her to now. She preferred it that way. No personal contact. The administrative work she did was simple and mind-numbing. That is, if she’d still had a mind to numb. But it paid her bills.

As on most days, she took the bus to the city center, where she quickly devoured a simple meal at a cheap restaurant. And then she began her daily mission: visiting bookstores and, if they were all closed after seven o’clock, the local public library. Only when it closed too, at ten, did she take another bus back to the small apartment she rented. She loved books, of course, but that wasn’t the real reason for her frequent quests. She was desperately searching for someone. Eight years ago, Laura de Vries had stolen a large sum of money from the owners of the small, successful company she worked for and then vanished without a trace, leaving her family behind. And she would find her! She would make sure she paid back the entire amount!

In a cluttered and dimly lit second-hand bookstore, she plopped down …

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BG 308 – Mother’s small pet business

Initially, she, her parents, and her brothers hadn’t exactly been well-off. Her father was stuck in a boring office job and spent his free time drinking.
But her mother was an intelligent, humorous, and inventive woman.
Over four years ago, to the surprise of those around her, she started a rapidly growing small business, with which the children helped, and from which the whole family benefited.
For just 5 euros each, she sold small, special pets, which parents and grandparents eagerly bought for their (grand)children.
The little creatures quickly conquered the entire country.
Sinterklaas and Santa Claus had a hard time stocking up enough of them.
Upon purchase they came in a cute cardboard box, with a little handle that fit exactly two fingers and with air holes in the little lid.
The little box also came with a cord, allowing children to carry the pet around their neck outside to take it for a walk.
And besides that, they barely had to worry about it.
They could teach the animals tricks. Especially ‘sit!’ and ‘lie still!’ did well.
‘Roll over!’ also worked, but then they had to lend a hand.
When the pets her mother sold had reached their peak popularity, their family’s financial worries became a thing of the past.
And as fads go, this one too passed quietly.
Her mother got time to do other things again and she too could enjoy her own free time again.
And if a little owner got tired of the special pet, no worries: he or she could then simply lay Rocky somewhere in the garden.

BG 306 – Leaf

Just blown out of the tree and landed on wet grass and other wet leaves. The edges already dead, in dark brown to black, but the center still orange and yellow, with remnants of life in bright green around the veins. Beautiful colors! Dying after a good life, but not giving up yet. Spots, wounds, dark brown and black, in the still bright colors in the center. On its way to break down into ever smaller particles and to serve as food for the next generation of fresh green leaves in spring. Meanwhile, crackling under our shoe soles and a feast for our eyes.

BG 298 – Ad blocker

Their old grandmother, who (for a generous fee) was lovingly cared for by an elderly widow who lived next door, enthusiastically decided to buy her first computer for her eighty-sixth birthday.
A desktop, with a large screen, a keyboard and a mouse, because all those smaller devices had buttons that were far too small, according to her.
To their surprise, Grandma soon became handy with the device. She bombarded them with emails, shared interesting things she had found on the internet and scanned, printed and copied to her heart’s content with that handy device she had bought together with it.
The eldest of her four grandchildren had installed everything for her and took care of the maintenance.
Their only concern was that Grandma would fall victim to scammers. After all, she hadn’t grown up with spam, scams and other online manipulation. Fortunately, her caregiver had experience with this, and she alerted Grandma to it.
That went well for a long time.
Until one day, when the grandchildren came to visit, they noticed …

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BG 289 – A thriller in 33 words

She visited him in his hospital room and fortunately he is doing well. She patiently waits for the elevator door to open and gets in thoughtlessly. But… there is no… no elevator! Aaaaaaaah!

BG 279 – Get along

You have dark pubs and you have extremely dark pubs.
The Crowing Chicken in our city is one of the latter category and it is our favorite place to go out on busy Saturday nights.
We always make sure we are there on time, so that our usual place at the end of the long bar is still free, from where we have a good view of who is entering and who is leaving in the light of a bare bulb above the door and where, in addition, we can vaguely see in a large mirror on the wall opposite us what is happening behind us in the dim light.
That’s how we like it: sitting in semi-darkness, but still being able to keep an eye on our surroundings.

Our heated argument of this afternoon has died down and we are able to get along again. So we took the bus here again.
We always come by bus and when it gets late we take a taxi back home.
It’s so busy in The Chicken on Saturday nights that I barely have room to go to the toilet. And my twin sister Mirra has to come along, of course.
The landlord, Fatso Frank, knows us well and in the meantime always keeps our bar stool free for us. He is a good guy, that Fatso. Too bad he’s so fat.
He himself also enjoys the various draft beers and gins a little too much that he generously serves for regular customers and for the many tourists who, even when it is dark outside, still manage to find the striking red front door in the black facade of the building. The fact that a large …

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BG 251 – A thriller in 33 words

She was fourteen, he much older. He waited for her in the dark. What he wanted made her furious. She had escaped, panting, sweating and trembling, and he lied doubled over in pain.

BG 250 – Doesn’t have to go anywhere

While the sun pleasantly warms her uncovered shoulders, she leafs through the fragile old book that she has just discovered among the others on a table at the second-hand book market. It is not just any dusty old book, on the contrary, she has been looking for it for years and would love to add it to her collection. Carefully she turns the pages, reads a bit here and there and attentively looks at the portrait of the author in the beginning of the book. Her heart stops for a moment when she discovers a faded signature underneath. She gently traces the delicate lines with her index finger. With a smile and a sigh she puts the book back. Unfortunately, it is too expensive for her.

Now and then she looks up from the books, at the other visitors of the market. She picks them out immediately, the real book lovers. They carry a small backpack, or are dragging a shopping bag on wheels. A backpack is enough for her today, she doesn’t plan to buy a lot of books. Only the most special ones, if they are affordable, are allowed to go home with her. Of course, you can never have too many books, but in the long run you can run out of space to store all of them.
She is on her second round along the tables and boxes full of books, to make sure she hasn’t missed anything. She is enjoying the lovely summer weather to the fullest, but perhaps she shouldn’t have worn a sleeveless top, because her pale skin burns easily.

Across the market, she sees an intriguing man about her age. He is engrossed in a pile of old books and fortunately also carries a small backpack. He has a warm light brown skin, which contrasts nicely with his moss-green T-shirt. And he has a full head of medium-length dark hair, of which a lock keeps falling in front of his eyes, which he then thoughtlessly brushes away again. When he raises his head, …

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BG 205 – The zebra crossing

This time, The Maakster was not on her daily walk through Quiet Belgian Village, but was driving her car through the center of a neighboring village.
Diagonally in front of her, a woman rode a bicycle on the designated lane, with a toddler on a cute little bike on her other side. As The Maakster approached a zebra crossing, The Cyclist suddenly turned left onto that crossing, without stopping first and without looking around.

Fortunately, The Maakster was paying attention and managed to brake just before the zebra crossing, at a good distance from The Cyclist. Who was extremely shocked, jumped off her saddle, and positioned her feet on the ground on either side of her bike. At the same time, she grabbed her child by the shoulder to make it stop. The little boy, wearing a helmet, naturally got startled, put one little foot on the ground with difficulty and staggered for a moment, diagonally on his saddle, before regaining his balance.

The Cyclist looked furiously at The Maakster and began to rage and yell at her. Pointing along the length of the zebra crossing, she shouted ‘This is a goddamn zebra crossing!’ …

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