Level25

By the time the waiter shook Jin awake it was past closing time. Chairs had been stacked on tables. The music had stopped although the turning was only in its infancy. The lights which now seemed blurry were dimmed. Some of the waiters sat around smoking, playing cards and making crude jokes. Their shapes drew grotesque shadows against the walls that seemed friendly at first, but on second sight did not. The first thought that hit him was that he’d either have to walk home or take a taxi. Looking up at the half empty bottle next to his head walking didn’t seem like such a bad idea. Struggling with the concept of getting up Jin slowly gathered himself and rose. The world seemed upside down from this angle and slightly green tinted which made him think of those paintings he had seen in the D’Orsay long ago. 

The humidity made Jin sick the moment he stepped outside. “Not to worry,” was all the waiter said as he locked the door behind him, “they clean good,” indicating the team of street sweepers beneath the orange lights on the other side of the road who were noiselessly involved in the dance of the unseen. Jin, still bent over with his hand pressed against a wall, felt someone running past, but no actually contact. Moments later a small group of men wielding clubs rushed past in pursuit. The streets, eventhough still busy, felt abandoned. Jin, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve, realised he could make it home if he kept his body at an angle.

The bar was unusually busy. It smelt heavily of coriander and fish. This was the Indian quarter. Jin seldom ventured here since the incident in the temple a few blocks up the street. Tonight he found himself under certain obligation. He had arrived surprisingly early given that he had nearly missed his bus and the changes he had to make along the way took longer than usual. He didn’t expect his wife to be there yet, but she was - arms crossed and frowning.
“I am leaving you,” she said with a certain hint of fear, “don’t think that I don’t have anywhere else to go.”
Although Jin had made a point of not touching a single drop of alcohol that morning the room felt like that familiar small swimming pool; the kind people set up in their back gardens by themselves; the kind their kids easily drown in. His wife averted her eyes while Jin struggled to losen his tongue.
“Don’t you have anything to say?”
He let his head sink onto his chest the way small boys do when they’re mortally wounded.
“I..erm. I...”
She had never looked as beautiful as in that instant when she shook her head, slowly got up, turned around and walked away.