The Hypothetical Deaths of Hank and Doris.

Well, he started, I don't think I really ever loved her anyway. It's like, she just wasn't the one, you know?

When I first saw him, she mused, I thought "Now here's a man I could love." And I thought that I would. That I'd learn to, maybe, somehow. But I didn't.

I tried, he continued, but it just never felt like really, 100% right, you know? Like I'd do all these things for her, things I'd got off movies or books or something. But they were just rip-offs. And I'd feel kinda shitty after. Cause she'd go, you know, all mushy and I-love-you-darling and all. And I'd have to say the same things back, and I'd be lying.

I guess after a while I began to feel some.. affection for him. His presence, his steady income, it was nice. And he loved me so much, I could never bear to hurt him so. Not by telling him I didn't feel the same way.

I mean, it's not like I didn't like her. She doesn- well that's didn't now isn't it- look half bad, and she was plenty sexy when she was younger. I mean, the sex was alright. She made breakfast, and stuff like that. And we hardly ever fought as well, you know? So yeah, I was happy to have her around that's for sure.

Fond, that's the word. On a scale ranging from Infatuation to Truly-Madly-Deeply, it probably lies somewhere ambivalently in the middle. Or maybe it belongs to another scale altogether, to one for pets and young children. Fond. Like he was nice to have around, but there never was this urge to be with him, nor even to be close to him.

But life goes on eh?, he shrugged. I mean I gotta learn to do my laundry and all, it's gonna be a pain. And I guess I'll miss knowing someone else's around even when I'm reading the papers or watching a game or something. Like there's somebody there, you know?

The little things. The warmth of a thigh on a long journey home. Waking up to the sounds of a man brushing his teeth. Having someone to talk to at the end of the day. It's always the little things you miss the most isn't it?

___________________________________________

Perhaps my favourite part of this story is the title. I'd finished it, but had no idea what its title was gonna be. Inexplicably the phrase hunky-dory drifted into my head, and I decided, that's it, they're gonna be Hank and Doris. Just about as random as it gets! I really like it haha.

Okay so I'd written this story first, before the House of Bees one. Maybe it was writing this that brought me onto the subject of love and not admitting you don't love someone and stuff which led to that other story. What led me to this one? I have no idea. Not a blooming clue! This has never been one of my unfinished stories, nor have I ever thought about something like this before.

I just woke up, tossed and turned at 3 in the morning, and decided what the hell let's try something. Maybe 2 hours later this was the result. Some lines I wanted to put in, and had to find a way to insert them. Rearranged some of the parts to get a nicer flow. Not that easy when you're not using a computer and Control-X haha, which is probably why I took so long to finish it!

Tried to get a different style for Hank and Doris. Took out all the big words from Hank, tried to judiciously scatter the "likes" and "you knows" and "I means" without being too heavy-handed about it. Supposed to tell you that he's probably not the brightest bulb in the box, not too good at communication at all.

And then Doris. I tried to change the sentence structures, syntax or whatever English jargon else, to make it obvious that it was a different person talking. The goal is for you to be able to distinguish whose paragraph is whose without the "he said", "she continued" stuff to clue you in. Didn't think I made it, so I put Doris' parts in Italics hahah. She's supposed to be smarter than Hank is, really in it only for the comfort and the constancy and that little bit there about the income. Didn't want to overplay that and end up with a stereotype of shopping-sprees-money-grubbing-wife.

That last paragraph there was inspired by the detective character in The Sleeping Doll who'd lost her husband, a totally random book I picked up at the Grenoble hostel's reading room. The only English book in there, I might add.

I thought I might end it with Hank and Doris finding out that, no their spouse isn't dead, and they both knew what the other had said. And I thought I might end there. And then I thought I'd add another paragraph saying what they did after they found out. That is, nothing. I have a hunch if they found out they didn't love each other, they still wouldn't separate. They might just shrug it off with a weary sigh. What do you think eh?

But I didn't add all that stuff. I think cause I wanted it to remain as 2 sides of a story, confessional. Not a story with an ending. I don't know if you know what I mean. But I always feel like I have to explain myself at the end of a story, I really don't know why either. To justify why it turned out like that maybe, to remind myself of the parts that I left out, the parts that could have been in my story, I don't know. Probably all of that, and more. Anyhow, yeah. I wanted the tone to be just like that, and I wanted it to end just like that.

I don't know if I prefer abrupt endings. When I read.. I like both I guess. It's always very relieving to read a book which wraps itself up perfectly neatly, don't you think? No loose ends, everything's finally over, closure. It's good. I like that. Then you get stuff like the stories off St Lucy's Home for Girls Raised by Wolves with the weirdest, most random endings, and that feels delicious as well. The initial sense of confusion and frustration maybe, like, what?!?!? How can it end like that!!! And then after that I'll think, huh, okay. Wow. Sweet. Something like that haha, it's pretty hard to describe!

But when I end my stories I almost always prefer an ambiguous conclusion. Maybe not so much ambiguous as no-follow-through, no telling how the characters feel after that or the fallout or anything. Maybe cause I don't know what happens anyway. And because I think nobody gets neat little endings in life, so I don't include that. We have this desire for perfect endings or at least no loose ends, for a sense of closure, but truth is, most of the time that's not how things work out. Most of the time we end up futilely befuddled, and then we gotta move on.

Er, didn't think I'd have so much rubbish to say actually. I bought A Constant Gardener for 1 pound in portsmouth, and thanks to that book, I've managed to read a total of 5 books while travelling. Pretty impressive hey? Probably indicative of how much free time I had hahah. I brought Lord of the Flies along as well, which is a disturbing tale indeed.

I swapped my Constant Gardener (I was NOT keen to swap away my brand new Lord of the Flies) for a really shitty book called A Quiet Belief in Angels. It was a struggle to read the damned book srsly. I mean the story wasn't bad, really. But it was the writing. Awful. I can't say forcefully enough how much I hated it. It was really bad.

I hated how much the protaganist was going on and on and on about himself and this promise he made to this girl. And then when he was like 15 he acted like he was 8, and I was just going zomg kill me please, I wasn't that pathetic when I was 15 surely!!! And I could go on and on and on. It was miserable reading. A review said - A tour de force yada yada yada, I say PUI!

I swapped that for Nightfall or something by Stephen Leather, and the difference in style made it instantly pleasant reading. A supernatural thriller, not really the kind of book I usually go for, but I just had to offload that awfulness. Switched that for Super Sad True Love Story in Nice. It was pretty good. Set in a dystopian future.

I really like those dystopian settings. It always tells you what the author sees happening to the world. Usually a little depressing, but sobering, so it's cool. Usually very snarky observations about humanity and its excesses, or the perils of a nuclear arms race etc etc. And usually believable as well. Maybe not probable, but at least possible, and realizing how possible it is is pretty shocking.

A bit too vulgar and overboard perhaps, but a great story. I took it home with me, didn't swap it for anything haha. Then I took The Sleeping Doll from the hostel in Grenoble, meaning to return it on the morning I left, but I found myself caught up in conversation with this Canadian fella and promptly forgot to return it. Big whoops. It's here now haha.

So that's how I managed to finish all of 5 books! I'm pretty sad I had to lose A Constant Gardener, and if I hadn't a conscience I could have just taken a new book without swapping it cause the shelf was pretty much free-for-all, but I couldn't bring myself to do that haha. I'll have to find another used bookshop and procure it, hopefully for one pound again!

And I bought Before I Go To Sleep and The Hunger Games recently cause I ran out of books to read, apart from my textbooks of course. But who wants to read those really! So I've been doing quite well with my reading hehe.

Er okay maybe I'll stop here, wouldn't like to see another wall of text now do you! I can't believe how long that post turned out though, pretty incredible haha. Anyhoo, ciaoz.