P.k and his playstation

P.K and his Playstation.

P.K is 23. He had taken to watching Bond movies again. He didn't know
why, but it seemed at the time, the right thing to do. The nights more
often than not, slid past the small hours and into the morning light.
Coffee had run out a time ago and the outside was much too fierce a
place to find more. Bond and P.K kept each other company more often
than he cared to admit. The cartoon violence he watched wasn't real, he
knew that. De-constructing the effects to reasonable levels kept him
alert through the caffeine drought and away from the dreadful dreams.
At the back of his mind he knew he would have to leave the house at
some point, he kept delaying the idea though he knew it to be
inevitability.
P.K heard the post fall onto the doormat and felt cold panic rise from
his torso. Cold sweat gripped his brow and a knot settled in his
throat. Panicking he searched his mind for comfort." If only she was
here to open the letters". He really knew that if she was, dealing with
the post wouldn't be life threatening. She had caused that fear. She
had started it. A wave of rose tinted memories threatened to knock him
onto his back but he welcomed the distraction. 'Panic' he thought 'can
kill'.
P.K thought of Friday, two days away. Bin-Day.

'Outside day'.

This time, P.K. had kept the panic in check, he had two days to deal
with it. He began to collect various cartons of half eaten take-away to
deposit in the middle of the room, he knew he could gradually get used
to the idea of "outside" this way. This ritual began every Wednesday
and over the month, hadn't become any easier.
P.K paused his cleaning for a moment to watch Goldfinger get sucked
from an aeroplane, he smirked at the bizarreness of the idea and again
became transfixed by the screen. His eyes were sore and his brain
sluggish but his head fought off the desire to plummet into itchy,
burning nightmares, he absently scratched an armpit.
Lost in a waking dream, P.k nearly missed the form of Mrs Lilly the
grocer walk past his window. Catching her apparition in time, P.K
launched himself under the window. Emulating Bond he kept his eyes
trained upward, hand resting on his fork shaped weapon of choice. He
congratulated himself on his cat-like reaction and thought back to his
favourite Playstation game.

He was walking through a snow-covered courtyard. Guards patrolled the
tops of walls hugging the fence; he was invisible to the night. Dressed
in black he was but a shadow in a military complex. He banked and then
crouched clutching the butt of his desert eagle with care. With
precision and cunning, our hero picks a guard to sniper, commanding him
to fall in the shadows where he would not be found until morning. A
light snow had now covered his footprints in the courtyard, but that
was failing into the night. He made the decision to crab across the
fence to the open window, 200 yards away. He pauses, cursing his
foolishness knowing that entry was too easy. Looking around he spies
another mode of entry....not so easy........

Underneath the window Mrs Lilly had passed, he stood in comfort. She
had hated the Playstation; She used to unplug it when she entered the
room sending P.K into a silent fury. "Got no attention for me, Pete?"
she would say," You've been playing for hours, why don't you sit with
me and we can watch a movie." And then she'd touch his hair. All P.K
wanted to do was finish his game. And any time he advanced she would
kill the power. It sent him cold with rage.
"I want to finish the fucking game, " he said aloud as he left for the
kitchen forgetting she could not hear him. P.K rummaged around half
full junk cartons knowing the remains of a half eaten curry lurked
around in the kitchen. He tried to avoid going into the kitchen. The
table was there and that was her preferred location for her discussions
on the benefits of good communication, he looked over to where he could
see her slumped in the chair, fork protruding comically from her
throat. Finding a Byriani next to the microwave he sat in the chair
opposite waiting for his food to heat. Watching her, head in hand, it
occurred to him how beautiful she once was. He knew it was the
persistent opening and closing of doors to the outside that made her
more and more ugly. P.K reminded himself that he should start to store
unwanted stuff in the bedroom. The microwave finished as he rose to
re-enter the front room he caught the microwave on the way out and sat
to watch Bond and Pussy Galore lying together in a parachute. As Bond
climbed on top of her, P.K wondered whether Bond would silence Pussy if
she complained about his play-station.