Rock Salt

cockle shells and silver bells
cockled shells and silver bells
cuckold shells and silver belles
cuckold shells and silver bullets

I slammed my closed fist into his face, then recoiled instinctively as I felt the skin over my knuckles split with the impact. His nose cracked. His blood on my hand. My blood on his face. I pushed him aside. Ran.
With the battered kitchen knife in hand I flailed wildly ahead of me. Swiping at my unseen assailants.


There was a knock on my door.

"Uh, dear? It's a lovely day outside... why... uhm.. why don't you go outside?"

"No mum, I don't feel like," I replied quickly.

"You should enjoy the sun, maybe meet with..."

"What friends?" I interrupted her. I knew exactly where this conversation was going.

"But, son..."

I intercepted her next sentence and said, "Look, mum, I prefer to stay here, I'm working on a... piece of music, you know. I need inspiration, I need to concentrate."
I quietly hoped that my tone didn't give my lie away.

"Yes, but you're always... you really should go out some more."

"No point, really. I have to get this done anyway, no point in wasting time outside."

A short moment of silence followed, which I lapped up like a hungry dog. My hands were already scribbling on the notepad I had open on my lap.

"Look, I'm fine here, don't worry about me. I'm not doing drugs and I'm not planning to blow the school up," I said flatly.

I allowed myself a little pause then added, "I promise. Heh."

The last sound came out as a snigger more than I wanted it to. I focused on the shotgun-like shape I had sketched.

I chuckled to myself, discretely but loudly enough for her to hear me.
She sighed, I think. I am quite certain that was a sigh I heard.

I instantly pulled out my I Pagliacci CD from the CD rack next to my bed and dropped it in my CD player. I stabbed the 'Next Track' button thirteen times, then pressed 'Play'.

"Ok," she lingered and tapped on the door with her finger, "Ok, then. Dinner will be ready soon."

"Cool," I said, trying really hard to sound cheerful, then concluded, "I'm starving."

I have a feeling she smiled. She must have convinced herself I was not lying through my teeth and head downstairs into the kitchen.

'Recitar mentre preso dal delirio'
As soon as I was sure she had left, I flicked the 'Stop' button on my CD player.
"Shut the hell up."

We had roast chicken and potatoes that night.

The next day, a home-made pipe bomb went off in the school's toilets. The east wing. Men's. It destroyed the entire row and part of the gym walls too. No one was hurt. I didn't have to hand in the essay for my Sociology class. That gave me another week to work on it.