Following a society workshop session on the subject of “Silence”, we asked Exeter’s Creative Writing Society to send in their inspired work. What follows is a moment of silent pain and humiliation…
Dying in 50 Pound Nike Sb Vulc Rod Men’s Shoes
He stood in the backstage area which consisted of a room, a chair and a mirror in which he looked at himself. He began to doubt whether he felt “funny” in his shoes, and whether the audience would think he was good. His face was perspiring constantly.
A man came in and gestured that it was his turn. The room was vibrating as he walked on stage. The audience stared at him, judging him. Their smiles from the previous act faded. His hands were shaking and he could feel the sweat on his palms. He clumsily adjusted the microphone to his height and took a sip of water so he could speak.
He said “Hello” while looking down at his £50 Nike shoes. The audience said “Hello” back. This was a good start, he thought.
He started doing his act, hoping the audience would laugh in the right places and not heckle him. He really didn’t want to get heckled.
Two minutes into his act no one was laughing and he felt like everyone in the room silently hated him. He was shaking a little more now and looked nervous. He realised this, which made him shake even more and look more nervous. He realised this too, which made him shake even more and look more nervous, and so on.
He continued with his act even though he was the only one self-consciously laughing. He became distracted by a woman at the back of the room having a phone conversation. Not because it was rude, standing on a stage demanding people listen to you is rude, but because people seemed to be more interested in her than him. He wished someone rang him so he could answer his phone and talk to someone – Samaritans, preferably.
He didn’t feel bad really. He felt sorry for those who were listening; it must be very uncomfortable to watch a man die a social death. He wished that someone would come on stage and hug him and say “It’s okay” repeatedly, while the audience would feel bad for not laughing.
At the end of his five minute set he walked offstage to insincere applause as a fat man shouted “gay sex” at him. He sat in the dressing room in silence. “It’s the shoes” he thought.
By Frankie Plummer
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