Novel Extract 7.4

“Have you ever seen Fight Club?” I clicked back into reality.

“What?” I turned away from the window and looked for where the voice came from.

“The film, Fight Club. have you ever seen it?” An old man across the aisle was staring at me, waiting for an answer.

“No.” I managed a gruff response.

He was holding a copy of the book in his hand, held open to a page halfway through.

He looked surprised, raising his thick, grey eyebrows.

“You should. Meat Loaf is amazing in it.”

“Right.” I turn back to the bus window.

The last thing I wanted to be doing today is making light conversation with strangers.

The afternoon sun was harsh, beating down through the fingerprint-covered window. My sunglasses provided little solace.

There was a sour taste in my mouth. I’d brushed my teeth before I left this morning but it made no difference. Last night I was sick into the oven proof dish my mother gifted me with when i moved into my apartment. It was an old one she’d bought when I was a baby.

“You can pass it on to your children when they move out.” She’d smiled as she handed it to me.

I didn’t have the heart to tell her I was never having kids.

Throwing up into a dish you ate pasta bake out of as a child isn’t a good feeling.

It was in that moment I truly felt like my childhood was over.

I stopped in the off license by work for cigarettes and a Kit Kat.

“Morning. Blimey, big one last night?” The shop owner enquired as I tossed the chocolate onto the counter.

“Don’t start, not this morning. Twenty JPS real reds.”

He was kind, with a good sense of humour. Every now and again he didn’t charge me for my Kit Kat.

As I handed him my change, I asked.

“Have you ever seen Fight Club?” He slammed the ancient till shut.

“Yeah, have you?” He raised an eyebrow, seeming amused.

“No.”

“Really? You should. Meat Loaf is amazing in it.”

I sighed as I walked out.

I barely managed to push open the door of the bar. It took all the strength I could muster in my shaking arms.

“Morning you. Jesus, what were you up to last night?” I rolled my eyes.

“You’re not the first to say that today.” I poured a double whiskey, topped it with tap water and sat on a barstool.

The bar was always gloomy in the daytime. You noticed all the imperfections; dust particles dancing in the light, chipped wood on the bar, water marks and peeling paint on the high ceiling.

“You look like a dead person. You sure you’re okay?” She did this to me every week. I doubt she even really cares.

The truth of the matter was, I wasn’t okay. The world was closing in around me minute by minute. Nothing made sense or mattered. But despite that, the world continues around you. People smile at you on the street, the wind blows, time passes. And I come to work.

“I’m fine. This old bloke on the bus just asked me if I’d seen fight club. Out of the blue. Don’t you think that’s odd?” I was deflecting as I reached for a packet of salted nuts behind the bar.

She pondered as she polished a wine glass.

“Not really. He was just making conversation no?” I flinched.

I hated when she put ‘no?’ on the end of sentences like that.

I shrugged. “Just thought it was random.”

“Have you seen Fight Club though? Meat Loaf is amazing in it.”

I rubbed my temples with two fingers, and necked my drink.

“Yeah. I’ve heard.”