Gary McMahon
Artwork by Rabidwire

Later that evening there was a small blue something standing in the corner of the room, its bulbous cyclopean eye blinking slowly, stupidly. Lou tried to ignore it; he’d learned over time that if he did so, they went away quicker. He crossed the room, staring anywhere but into that particular corner, and examined himself in the mirror. The small blue something peered at him, a reflected blob of intense colour hovering above his right shoulder.

 Lou couldn’t understand why it was there. He didn’t feel blue at all. Nervous perhaps, but that colour was surely a light shade of yellow.

 He thought that he looked ok. His hair was nicely gelled, and that nasty zit above his left eye had faded. But he realised that he did feel a vague depression; a tiny sliver of certainty that Janine wouldn’t like him. Not really.

 The small blue something shuffled its big flat three-toed feet, the surface of its compact circular body rippling like jelly.

 No, he thought. Go away. He denied the slight hint of despair that tugged at his senses, and thought happy thoughts. The something wobbled, as if off balance, and its large eye closed.

 Away.

 It wouldn’t be there for long. He could sense it depleting.

 Lou left the room, went downstairs and into the kitchen to chill the wine.

 He barely even heard the brief, sharp popping sound as the small blue something blinked out of existence.

 8pm crawled round; the arms of his clock seemed to be moving through treacle. The fact that Janine had agreed to come over for dinner still amazed him. They’d been living in the same apartment block for six months now, exchanging smalltalk in the lift and while collecting mail from the pigeon holes in the cramped downstairs foyer, but he’d ignored the attraction he’d felt towards her until two days ago. Then, inspired by cheap booze and the vertiginous sensation that time was running away from him, he’d boldly walked along the hall and knocked on her door.

 She’d actually seemed glad to see him standing on the threshold, and when he blurted out that he’d like to invite her over to his place for dinner on Wednesday night, she’d hidden the shocked expression that threatened to erupt onto her face rather well. When she finally said yes, and closed the door on her blushes, he almost ran back down the hall, locked himself away, and hid under the bed. Instead he’d simply smiled, and walked back to his flat with a small purple something trailing behind.

 And now the time drew near. It was 7:45pm, and he could hear tentative footsteps echoing along the hall.

 Small coloured somethings struggled to appear, vying for Lou’s attention. But he swallowed down the corresponding emotions, and refused them entry into the world. If he was strong enough, he could keep them at bay for the duration of dinner. He’d been struggling with them his entire life, and had mastered certain techniques that would relax them, and even occasionally put them to sleep.

 Then there came a knock on the door.

 Lou approached, his stomach tied up in knots, and took deep breaths before opening it.

 Janine stood there in the hallway, a nervous smile fluttering around her mouth like an energetic butterfly. “Hi,” she said. “Am I too early?”

 “No, no…please come in. We can have a drink before dinner.”

 She followed him into the flat, and sat on the sofa, crossing her long legs and smoothing down her skirt.

 Dinner was soon forgotten. They drank white wine and chatted like old friends; and then, the ice gradually broken, they really talked. Lou felt utterly at ease, and the small somethings lay still and buried deep inside. He found that when he was with Janine, they were robbed of a lot of their power.

 “There’s something I have to show you,” she said, eyes glassy from the drink, cheeks flushed and rosy. “Before we go any further with this.”

 Puzzled, he drew back from her, placed his glass on the coffee table. “What is it?”

 She sat up straight, bit her upper lip. “I’ve been watching you for a while now, Lou. I…like you. And I can tell that you like me.”

 He didn’t disagree.

 “I think that we have much in common. We seem to share a bond other than loneliness.”

 Lou could not have been happier to hear her say this. He felt it too: it was as if they’d known each other forever. He wondered what colour love would be, and felt somethings jittering like impatient children behind his eyes.

 “So,” she said. “Before we get serious, I need to show you.”

 Still biting that upper lip, she stood and went to the door. Looked him in the eyes. Opened the door.

 A small pink something stood framed in the doorway, its single heavy-lidded eye wet with tears.

 Lou smiled; Janine began to laugh. And a myriad rainbow-coloured somethings exploded into being with the sound of so many champagne corks being popped.

 For the briefest of moments everything seemed to make sense in Lou’s world, but then those franticly scurrying somethings all turned a bright shade of crimson and began to attack, tearing at each other with stubby clawed feet and butting indiscriminately with smooth round heads.

 When it was over Lou sat on the sofa cradling Janine’s torn body and weeping like a child. And a small blue something stood in the corner of the room. Just watching.