Haruki Murakami, 1Q84

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@gail-interrupted
Haruki Murakami, 1Q84
A f t e r l i f e
oh my god, what an awful word.
A f t e r l i f e
I think i saw what happens next.
Is this an a f t e r l i f e ?
it’s just an afterlife with you.
salingerisaghost:
“Bored?” Salinger inquired, pulling a bottle out of the cabinet before turning around for her answer. He himself had never stepped back into the workplace forthright. He’d done what he needed to do to amass enough to get by for several years when he’d first returned & thus far, his expenses hadn’t exceeded his initial earnings. “Because this, we can share.” Salinger said brandishing the bottle without skipping a beat as he pulled two glasses down & began to pour. “Will you be putting down your references from ten years ago? Or mocking up something new?”
❝Of course I’m bored. I miss havin’ an excuse to meet people.❞ And she needed the money, but she wasn’t about to sprinkle that into their conversation as if she expected Salinger to somehow pay for whatever she wanted. Then again, her rent problems could’ve been solved by moving out of her home and into his. Glasses were pulled down as she ruminated on the thought, giving her very little time to do more than wrinkle her nose at the prospect of liquor. ❝It’s too early for that, Salinger. Not all of us drink our breakfast.❞ Granted, it seemed lately as if more ad more of her meals were replaced with liquor and whatever she managed to find in Salinger’s cabinets. ❝And we can share a dresser as well. Plenty of people do it -- - normal people who don’t like walkin’ home just to get new clothes or to brush their teeth.❞
References and resume hadn’t been considered as she was cooking up a grand scheme to gain employment. A shadow of doubt was all Gail needed to be given pause, albeit briefly. ❝I thought I’d use bridge club, and then I’ll just stick your name on it as well. What would you say sounds more appropriate for my work during the past thirty years -- - ‘adult babysitter’ or ‘caretaker’?❞
eleanorxdubois:
“I was committing felonies, mom. Aren’t you so proud of me?”
“Mmm… Tempting, but I think I can trust whatever you knit me without learning it on my own. She’s sassy today, I like it.”
❝I don’t know if proud’s the right word, but at least you were out doin’ something in the community.❞
❝What if I’m not always around to knit something for you? Besides, this is a pottery class. There’s no yarn in pottery... I think. I mean, I’m not really sure. I’ve never take the class.❞
salingerisaghost:
Salinger listened with a faint look of interest on his face as Gail dispelled any notion that she’d be meeting up with her geriatric best friends next year. That may not have been her choice to make anyway. Their clocks, after all, were ticking. “I hadn’t noticed,” Salinger said, shoulders shrugging slightly. “Why?” He asked, moving around the counter towards the cabinet where he’d sometimes find a bottle of or two. Upon the second question, he glanced over his shoulder at her. “No.“ He said, though it could’ve been as much of a question as it was a definitive answer. Why the hell would you would’ve been more fitting, but he was feeling exceptionally generous with his good will today.
❝You didn’t notice? Not at all?❞ She hadn’t expected him to, but shock was feigned nevertheless. ❝I was thinkin’ I might start looking for a job or something. The last time I had one was... hmm... a decade ago? Two? Well, either way, it wasn’t a long-term thing and I thought I’d go work. It’d be fun!❞ Reaping the benefits of modern-day feminism and women's rights seemed like a good idea, especially considering that those things didn’t exist during her day. And speaking of rights, Gail stopped picking at her flowers long enough to zero in on Salinger, ❝Why do you get to keep liquor at my place when I can’t keep a toothbrush at yours?❞
salingerisaghost:
“Because I sent them.” He said matter-of-factly, disregarding the flowers with one last disapproving look. “I’ll remember that for future reference.” Salinger said, evidently unfazed by the fact that she’d have preferred her flowers delivered by mail rather than in person. “Next year I’ll make sure they fit into your agenda to publicly shame the bridge club.”
❝Yes, sir! You absolutely did send ‘em to me.❞ At least he would be willing to play along, though Gail had the sneaking suspicion that his generosity only stemmed from the fact that her geriatric group of friends might leave him alone because of it. Scooping the flowers out of Salinger’s reach, Gail ferried them to the kitchen table where she began to look at the drooping blooms, ❝You’ve not gotta worry about next year, because I’m not gonna have the club over on Valentine’s Day. Did you know the florist is hiring? I saw a sign on their door -- - that’s something I could probably do. Hey, do y’think I should scrapbook these?❞ She indicated the flowers, fingertips still working over browning leaves.
salingerisaghost:
“Well, evidently they’re mine anyway.” Salinger breezily defended himself as he flipped the card closed. “Did you piss me off that day in this scenario? Is that why there’s only six?” He asked with an impish grin. “Served their purpose none-the-less I’m sure.”
❝No, they’re mine! See-- - it’s to Gail, from Salinger. With love.❞ The last bit might have been pushing it, but Gail had succumbed to the desire to go above and beyond. His continued goading only served to irritate, which she found he could do quite well; though usually unwavering in her patience, Gail could bristle at the slightest provocation from the right person. ❝There are six because I’m not made of money, fancy pants! And why’re you criticizing them, anyway? You didn’t buy ‘em. You could’ve sent me flowers, but you didn’t. I had to take matters into my own hands.❞
eleanorxdubois:
“Probably not.”
“Of course you signed up for a pottery class. Do you have Wednesday crochet too?”
❝Well now I’m curious, so y’may as well tell me.❞
❝I don’t need a class to learn to do that. Why? Do you wanna learn? It might give you something to do when you’re not bein’ sarcastic.❞
salingerisaghost:
“Who got you flowers?” Salinger asked, reaching for the card poking out between wilting pedals. Curiously enough, his own name was printed neatly along the bottom. This of course, earned a quirked brow from the man who had certainly not sent over half a dozen roses “Well that’s thoughtful.”
❝Why’re you snoopin’ around in my flowers?❞ Any other person may have felt shame or apprehension as Salinger’s fingers reached for the card that bore his name without consent, but not Gail. Dimples pressed into her cheeks as her smile widened, completely unabashed. ❝You got those for me. Aren’t they nice? Someone delivered ‘em right when bridge club was kicking off -- - isn’t that convenient? Let’s ‘em know who’s boss, y’know?❞
“You really don’t have anything romantic to say do you?” “No. I know a poem about azure eyes but - doesn’t really fit.” “There’s got to be one for brown eyes. C’mmon, just swap the words.” “When they write one about me, I’ll relay it on to you.”
eleanorxdubois:
“Sometimes a gal just needs time away to herself. Look at me, I’m all in one piece so you can stop harping. Do you want me to answer that honestly?”
❝I was worried! And I’d like an honest answer... wait, do I want an honest answer?❞
❝As a token of apology, I guess you could always go to the pottery class I signed up for. Salinger’s not gonna go, so the invitation’s open and it’s lookin’ pretty fun.❞
eleanorxdubois:
“—And what the hell are you going to do about it? Please. Enthrall me.”
❝Hey! Don’t you get sassy with me.❞
❝You’ve not called for two weeks. I was about start a search party or something’. What’ve you even been up to?❞