literature

in the night

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Literature Text

further away from the gluey snow falling all over the town, the human shapes scurrying through the early onset of the night, the hundreds and hundreds of swarming insect-like dots, in the muffled silence of a sepulchral parking lot,
there were but two.

one tall and heavy and slug-like and the other short and hysterical like a moth.
slug stood monumental and apathetic, seemingly indifferent to the snow splattering all over his leather collar. you have to be patient, he thought. somewhere close the other one's voice was ringing. he could register the words' presence. that was enough.

the grey monolith of an elementary school building loomed from behind the snowscreen. a lone window was glowing with a pastel green light.

"and so i told her to go to hell and so i'm here," and the voice cut off and woke slug from his trance-like state and stabbed him
back into reality.

the two stood almost toe to toe. the short one tapped his foot awkwardly, like when he had first come, struggling to strike up a conversation. but slug was gentle. gentle and dumb like wax. he offered the short one a cigarette. he in turn shuddered and went on.

"don't! you don't know nothing. i..."

a reticent cough escaped his throat.

"anyway, you know a story? back in school, there was this kid i was in class with... don't recall his name but doesn't matter
- the point is that he always had a cross with him or a statuette or something - god knows, i can't remember - but he was so 
tiny and brittle and he always prayed to that godforsaken thing - and they used to call him saffron, i never understood why -
but the main point is that they thought he was an occultist or whatever the media called fanatics those days - and since he
never resisted they sometimes beat him and they would laugh at him like all kids do but he just stood silent - i think it was because he believed in it so much? - and
then he cried and his whimpering was the most pathetic, heart-wrenching little thing i'd ever heard -"

slug nodded in a slow rhythm. clots of snowflakes fell flat under the lamplights.

"ah, to hell with it, the point is - i was that kid."

there was a profound pause.

"of course, i've grown out of it..."

"i see," slug hummed in an insipid bass.

the short one walked around him in circles, trying to flick his lighter. it refused to spark in the cold. he gave up.
silence fell between them. slug felt the need to speak. you never know how it is with these loons, he thought.

"so what are you going to do now?"

the moth-like one snapped his fingers on the lighter's wheel and it finally did spark, illuminating his bronze face, his ginger bangs and rust-coloured eyes. there was something demonic and ridiculous about it all. the soft, impersonal light of the school window was reflected in his pupils.

"burn it. burn it down," he made a vague gesture pointing to the grey school building. a nervous cackle and he went on. "why, i don't know. i don't know how the hell i'm gonna do it. don't look at me like that. i'm not an arsonist. i've never done this before."

slug felt a tingle in his mind. a vague need to act. he shifted his feet slowly and breathed in.
but the short one darted off all of a sudden.

"you're damned frigid. you're a goddamn stone. what do you understand?"

the stone-like one began his low drone in a half-baked attempt to threaten.

"you know what'll happen if you dare..."

"what do you say!" the moth cut him off this time. he was visibly annoyed.

and after another awkward pause, he strode away. his bold steps couldn't conceal his clumsiness.

slug's job was to guard the parking lot. he retreated to his allotted cabin and began to brood. should've been more patient, he thought. maybe we could get along, he thought. a clammy tiredness came over him. lethargy
spread all over his body. he dozed off in the funereal silence of the suburbs.

he woke up because thirst was tugging at his throat and saw that the snowfall had abated. the night was lying naked.
there was something going on in the schoolyard. a white car that he assumed was the ambulance. slug abandoned his post in the safety of emptiness and plodded towards the building.

by the time he reached it, everyone had left. faithful mrs moll remained, standing on the porch like a crippled watchdog.
mrs moll of medium height. medium complexion. there was nothing feminine about her. there was nothing masculine about her
either. her face was grey and covered in warts. she was soft and gently reserved. slug felt his bones stiffen and ache. he didn't
speak. he gave her a questioning look.

"there was this man here... ,' she sighed, '- set himself on fire. they say he wanted to burn the school down, but i don't know.
they say he had studied here. maybe it is so. it is disturbing. very disturbing."

slug understood. he didn't want to answer. he gazed into the bruise-coloured sky instead. the grimy tentacles of the night had
stretched over the town and over his body and soul. he put up no resistance. he stared blankly at mrs moll. she was looking
intently at some bright dot in the darkness.

"you shouldn't hold grudges like that," she said.

slug nodded. he rubbed his hands together, lost in half-thought. he didn't want to look at the woman anymore. he felt sickly pity trickling down his spinal cord when he did that. at last he began to speak.

"well, if he dies from these wounds, i'll come to his funeral..."

mrs moll turned her grey face to him in appreciation.

"and if he doesn't... the idiot!..."

this was harder for her to understand.

but now slug's dull eyes were illuminated with some twisted attempt at light.
now slug resembled a titan.

"so i knew him back in school. and i did shove his head in the sink once... so what, the damned liar! always with his statuettes
and prayers. with his fire now! said he was weak and brittle. what does he know! and you, don't look at me, woman! at least i can see what is wrong with us."

he clenched his fist with the same slowness that now had tinges of an unseen danger.

"but how i envied him!

"how i

envied

him!"
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