The Unexpected
Occurrences
Sitting on this withered bench seems to open me up
clearly to the possibilities and happenings surrounding me.
The leaf blower lets its temper get the best of it as it
scurries away the golden flakes that lie on the ground, growling “GET OFF MY
LAND!”
The man moves, no, hurries across the campus, a bomb
strapped to his chest, ticking away each second, each tick making him move
quicker and quicker towards his destination.
A young, naive boy slithers around the floor, his trench
coat billowing behind him as he searches and searches.
An inquisitive girl reaches into her bag. She cannot find
her desired object, so she dives into her belongings head first feet last,
emerging only two hours later with her mobile phone, thrusting it into the air
victoriously!
A mini convertible goes rushing through the lane of the
campus, bearing the words “FOOD” as it blurs past me.
A woman walks past, a piece of cloth wrapped around her
neck in the wind, wrapping tighter and tighter, strangling her she moves.
A small rabbit cosily lies on the grass. As a group of
boys go past shouting loudly as they quote their previous night out, the rabbit
transforms into a tiger as it pounces out of sight.
A middle aged woman strides past, bin bangs covering her
feet and lower leg; maybe she is taking recycling to a whole entirely new
level.
The monster of “The Hub” building opens and closes its
jaws constantly, allowing its prey to enter at its own free will.
Ducks Swam….
The surrounding greenery made the campus look
suspiciously resemble a park rather than a University. Tall, bushy trees
surrounded the back of the dark blue lake, while tall grass covered the
surrounding areas.
Ducks swam round the lake in an endless quest to find
some sustenance.
Crowds of people passed by, however you could easily spot
the fresher’s from the others for practically all obtain jumpers, shorts, pants
or t-shirts harbouring the University logo.
Swarms of students file out of a building, relief evident
across their faces as their lectures are over.
One girl. Short brown hair tied up, short, wearing black
leggings and a grey cardigan passes by the lake, her head turns violently in
every direction almost as if she’s lost or afraid of something.
A lone bird stumbles along the grass in a hurry to find
some discarded food. It reaches the water line and stares aimlessly across the
water.
Two girls cross over the grass, their walking
symmetrical. They are both speaking; however their words have become a jumbled
mess that nobody can understand.
A man and a woman pass by, looking very out of place
wearing suits. They’re walking fast-paced and talking loudly as they go.
A group of girls cross the path, laughing loudly, talking
fast while one girl trails behind, looking so lost and out of place. She eyes
her surroundings as if hoping something or someone will save her from the
dreaded conversation the girls are having.
Students surround the lake, parked on benches and eyeing
the scenery. Three ducks in a group wandered over to them, staring up as if
expecting to be given food.
A boy walks by, wearing a black t-shirt with the words ‘I
am not normal’ printed on the front of his shirt. Despite the freezing cold
weather he’s combined that t-shirt with a pair of thin red shorts that fall to
his knees.
Four girls slowly pass by, weighed down by at least ten
shopping bags each. Tired, and forlorn expressions plastered all over their
faces despite the hundreds of products they’ve just bought.
A boy and girl walk side by side, the girl shouts down
the phone in a loud, whiny tone while the boy lowly mumbles incoherent words
with one finger in his free ear, blocking out the loud, harsh voice of the girl
beside him.
A man passes by, holding a water bottle in one hand and
an apple in the other. He loudly chomps on the apple, taking chunks of it as he
speed walks. In almost one mouthful, he’s finished the apple and discards it in
the wild mass of grass.
A food truck pulls up outside a wide building. Two large,
burly men begin unloading boxes and carrying them inside.
It's sunny for once which gives the lake a calm and serene
appearance, a group of students are walking along it looking half awake and
still half asleep from the night before which probably involved alcohol,
they're talking but I can't tell what about, more people with sport bags and
iPods in their ears making the world around them oblivious and non-existent,
girls are laughing, probably about something small and menial but laughing
nonetheless, although people are walking and making the lake seem vibrant, it
remains still and slow as if waiting for something to happen.
There is a cafe here where people come and go in big and
small groups either to get a quick pick me up before a lecture or taking a
shortcut to class. Just the background music of music playing in the background
and the interaction between the waiter and customer is relaxing and calming so
much so that it is making the man in the cafe fall into a peaceful doze whilst
reading a novel to which I can't see the title, must be a tedious novel as he
abandoned reading his book some time ago.
Two boys have walked into the cafe and appearing as the
personifications of light and dark as the first boy has fair skin and hair
whilst wearing light coloured clothing whereas his companion has dark hair and
is wearing dark clothes which emphasises their difference, yet at the same time
they seem to complement each other, they leave the cafe and continue on with
their lives as everyone else does.
Murky brown water laps at the edges of a concrete cliff,
already freighted with litter as the constant stutter of generators and
compressors powering the small army of yellow contractors, drowns
out its music. There’s a whiff of diesel as the bus glides by, empty, masking
the odour from the huge pile of fertiliser that’s been dumped by the bridge.
The red orbit of the track is quiet now, a clutch of
seagulls sunbathe at the centre waiting for their patrolling scouts to signal
scraps. Nearby, three men stand around watching a fourth with a fairground
hammer, waiting for the ding. Far above, the winds scrape glyphs across the
blue sky and the tiny moon rides high like a bitten fingernail.
Under a can of beans, the Creative Edge tries artfully to
disguise itself behind the new shrubbery, unsure what colour to choose for the
best. Nearby, strips of white material swim like flatworms up the river to the
steps, while behind something bobs furtively, waiting for its chance to
surface.
New grass has been photoshopped onto the verges in broad
strokes, alongside a makeshift fence denying access to a path leading nowhere.
A straggly pine is restrained with steel cables so that the ivy can climb its
narrow trunk.
A magpie strides lordly and confident past the inkcaps,
shimmering blue in the low sun, a beady eye spears a late butterfly fluttering
by like a fretful cinder on the breeze. The twin trunks of a beech tree spring
out of the turf like a witch buried headfirst, feet kicking greenly, while
behind, a bloody mess of berries wink tantalisingly.
The passage of traffic going by seems to speed up and I’m
drawn like a rusty nail back to the hub, magnetic and central. Flowers nod
their agreement in their cosy beds as I choose my swiftest path back to the
centre.
I sit in the shadows of the Creative Edge looking out
over the sea of metal that seem to be the ever expanding car park. Two
contractors walk by carrying a table between them seemingly arguing amongst
each other about someone in a container before getting into their van and
driving away. A student skirts the edge of the running track more immersed in
the goings on of her phone than her surroundings as she carries her shopping
home. The echoing engine of a plane comes from overhead crossing over the still
present moon that seems to have lingered too long in the sky. Flashes of metal
pass by through the bushes a never ending stream of traffic passing by on the
many ways to somewhere. A man with torn jeans passes me by and offers me a good
morning, I do the same. He seems to circle around before finding himself where
he needed to be. From a small bucket he takes a damp rag using it to clean the
walls of the Creative Edge moving along the expanse of wall hoping to finish
the job. He stops coming to walk past me again awkwardly as he goes to meet his
colleague who has arrived in a hired van – they talk for a while the accent
seemingly lost to me apart from the few harsh words I discerned. From what I
can see it seems that they are attempting to build a cleaning platform to aid
in his task, nothing fruitful yet just a lot of noise and heavy lifting. Three
now stand waiting with the platform discussing the building behind me, there
look however seems to keep falling onto me probably curious as to what I’m
actually doing here sat on this wall. Hard to be sure as sunglasses block their
eyes. The cleaner returns answering the question that has overall halted their
work, the platform will fit or round about where it was intended.
Craig Lee
