Fiction S. Hae Sport

“Sport” by S. Hae

I always do my business in the Prince Hotel. My apartment is close, Wood Hill. They reported so far on the news–the guesthouses are farther up. On my balcony looking straight down past the leaves, there are wind chimes–they sing and cry in the corner surrounded by tv plants. It is the only thing in the room that’s green. Today I wore blue. I was in high school dance teamthey‘re like a cheerleader, but we only cheer with our body. Uniforms; I really don’t remember what they said–I mean looked like–they change every yearBUT–we had to wear white socks and sneakers with our practice uniforms-these solid plain nylon shorts and what I remember was this and a jacket. It’s super thin, nylon stockingslike; a bit like a plastic bag with a soft but wrinkly feel. Remember basketball games, and the three of us squeezing in the two seats on the bus. It’s all body and perfume. Like a plush toy, BUT with a mouth and lipstick and everything else. I was.. 17? 18. Now 22, it’s my summer wear. Nice to meet you. Call me Sport.

I grabbed my keys, took the elevator, now to check my phone on the trip down, and walk out on the street. My hair is in a pony tail, and apples are associated with red lips. Yes, of course I have brown eyes. Outside-the city has a heavy air. I can’t see past the haze. The sky color is grey, the river looks too green. Businessman black, thin glances and soaking their poor consciousness pressed with stuffy suits. They’re really going in any direction on the tunnel train, always down. I‘ll be on the streetI‘m going to the subway after.

Always knock three times. Knock knock knock. My first business is American. He said to me “Hi. Wow.” Really short hair, muscles, t-shirt, a little more. The military. No, United Kingdom. They are always so tough, but I didn’t need to take my shorts all the way off. I always beat them in the conversation–always been in command here. I’m already out the door when he’s ready to talk.

The following are mentioned in regards to the businessmen. It’s so simple, and in fact, there were two not one. Another easy thing in my hands. All of them, the military one too–but a little bump is ok–I like to imagine a robot that will be like thisit’s a machineat the touch of a button or lever-or pumpspump makes sense, right? When you do this repeatedly, the end is inevitable. It’s too easy, but too little depth. It is clear that man was made for some simple reason. It’s too bad they have hands. Is there any satisfaction for us? Are we satisfied to meet? No, here’s a more in depth look. I‘m looking out the window from the 15th floor, and I see the steady urban lighting and N Tower pointing up – behind me, it’s just a blur–I won’t be able to see their reflection, but they’re looking at me. Always obsessed with a glance and their own imagination for 5 minutes.

Crossing the road. Zebra stripes. Adidas. Blady. Japanese and Korean language mixed for cosmetics sales. American toothpaste cleans your teeth by bleaching it. “You have a beautiful face,” he said. He passed. We shall continue in the opposite direction.

It is already dark when I got home. I stopped by my mom’s for the split.

“Available tomorrow?

ShareEmail this to someoneTweet about this on TwitterShare on Facebook