CLASH MAGAZINE: Issue #1 by unknow

Author:unknow
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: CLASH Books
Published: 2018-04-17T00:00:00+00:00

Finger Prints On The Blind Tour: Madeleine Swann

Billie always woke first, giving her extra time to worry about rape, and her. She always checked her phone, heading straight for Twitter. Today, all the moments were in Italian, so at least there were no shrieking headlines or arguments to read through. She still searched the tweets of those she followed, though, to see if anyone mentioned them.

Each new perpetrator or speaker of misjudged comments, their unsuspecting publicity shot framing an accusation, filled her with fear, rage and crushing doom. Each new #soandsoisoverparty and #soandsoiscancelled tweet was a tiny tentacle pulling her down into the filthy depths. Anyone with resentment could make a claim against anyone. It was a witch hunt.

Was it? She’d think that for a few seconds before reading the accuser’s words and feeling like the worst person alive for doubting. No, it wasn’t a witch-hunt, it was revolution. Things were changing for the better, this was necessary. She had plenty of #metoo stories of her own, from the man who pinched her 14 year old behind at the swimming pool to sexual harassment at work to the boyfriend who woke her up humping her. Several times. She still burned with anger at that. No, this was more like the English Civil War than a witch-hunt. Sure, some Puritans might take things too far, but the majority of people just wanted equality.

But didn’t she belong among the accused? No, with the accusers. But…

Round and round she went like this every morning and today was no different, despite not being able to read new stories. She looked down at Sam’s serene, sleeping face and boiled with jealousy. He could sleep through a nuclear war. Immediately she felt bad and thanked whatever made them go to the same café every Sunday morning five months ago. The hole she had fallen down was so dark she couldn’t see the sign posts, as her mother would have said, and she’d decided to get a nice man to protect her from herself. And there he was, Sam, torch in hand. He invited her in like a stray cat, didn’t pull back when she cried without explanation or ask in harsh tones what the matter was now. He didn’t question her when she went out all night or hid her phone when reading certain texts. She in turn held onto him tightly, keen to block out the previous night’s kisses with strangers, or worse.

Sam’s eyes fluttered open. “Hello,” Billie pulled him close.

“I’m like a weird pirate,” he said. Billie frowned in confusion before noticing her boob covering his eye. They laughed and kissed, Billie enjoying his musty smell.

“I could sit on your shoulder like a parrot.”

“And say ‘aw’ and stroke my hair every time I tell people to walk to the plank.” He got up to check the itinerary, “Uffizi gallery this morning, Fairy,” he said, using her pet name as naturally as her given one.

“OK,” she grumbled, unwillingly leaving the hotel bed and pulling her clothes on.

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