#2 Sick Music

The janitor was in the bog behind the boiler room.  He looked up into the mirror to examine his complexion; it was grey.

     "Blimey!"

He threw more cold water onto his face, listening to the toilet still flushing vigorously; reminding him of what he'd rather not be reminded.   It was 4pm and he thought he would have felt better by now, but he was still queasy.  Everything had to be ready by the 5pm start time. Better get a move on, if only his guts weren't still so sore.  He didn't have much more to do; he'd finished polishing the floorboards and wiping the glass panes in the doors; all that was left was to sweep the second staircase that led to the Bridge and then do a final security check. An hour would do it. 

Up on Deck Level a large boned man in a dark suit was leaning over a lavatory bowl and puking violently.

One floor down, behind the galley kitchen, a woman in an apron was gingerly making her way across the floor of the staff toilets.  She hadn't realised until she started skidding that she'd stepped in it, her shoes were covered! 

It was a fine day and little white puffs of clouds were nicely positioned far in the distance. The Bridge smelt of cigarettes, and vomit. There was a wet patch beneath a low hanging basket in the corner, and a lingering smell.  She tried not to think about that, concentrating instead on anything and everything else, her very lovely dress, and the clouds, and her recent session, and her To Do list.  But it was too much; before long she returned to the wet patch and retched into the hanging basket.

The show must go on! At 5pm the janitor and the two curators, breathing through their mouths, opened the doors to a bustling queue of keen art lovers; everyone wanted to be first in to the show.  Until now the event had been shrouded in secrecy, you could almost hear the buzz created by its ambiguous title, in twenty meter high letters on the frontage; "Its SICK".

The artist wasn't present.  Nor was the gallery owner; he who notoriously avoided all his shows and especially this one which, as usual, he'd bought for a record sum.  

©LolaPerrin2010