4.16.2011

the milliner.

Few things are worth fighting for.  The things you choose to stand up for tell you a lot about your character.  I believe this dream tells me everything I need to know about the person I’ve become.

I’ve already moved to New York and worked at Arth for a few years.  I’m beginning resent the fact that I can’t afford to move back home and visit the people I want to see.  Frustrated for digging myself further and further into such a deep rut, but never making an effort to change;  I repeat the same routines and trace the same steps daily.

Without fail, I take the exact route to and from work everyday and past by the same milliner in the window of his own hat shop.  Every time I past, he’s always behind that window busying himself and fixing a different hat. 

He gets up for work earlier and stays far later than I would ever be willing, and this I’m constantly reminded of twice, daily.

This milliner has been in his shop for over 60 years.  Directly above his hat shop rests his apartment which he probably shares with his cat.  This man has never left this situation he’s grown so fond of.  For over 60 years, no one knows his first name; everyone refers to him as the Hat Man.

The Hat Man is a wafer-thin, fragile, silver-haired widowed man who has aged comfortably wearing his uniform daily; a dark grey cured felt fedora with a thin black band, white oxford shirt with the sleeves rolled up, charcoal pleated slacks, and a sturdy pair of black leather wingtips.  Strictly shades of grey.

I left work early one night when I noticed a young slender man turn my corner.  “It’s okay, I can share a sidewalk”, I tell myself as I slow down my pace to distance away from him.

The heels of this young man’s boots hit the pavement so violently; I can hear him undoubtedly from a block away.  His head held steady as he walked with a purpose, both his hands buried deep into his leather jacket.  He had to be somewhere, and from the looks of it, he could not afford to waste a single moment. 

The young man makes a sharp turn into the Hat Man’s shop, which I found strange because why would someone with so much product in their hair want anything to do with hats?  In any case, he turns into the Hat Man’s shop and as I’m approaching slowly, the young man rushes out.  The Hat Man follows closely from behind.

“Please stop!”, the Hat Man begs.

The young man turns around and looks him directly in the eye for a moment, and as if he couldn’t finish a thought, he turns right around and continues walking.

The Hat Man is now frantic as he strives to catch up, takes off his grey fedora as a sign of desperation and presses it against his chest.  He reaches out at the young man and touches his shoulder.

“Please, that’s all I’ve got. You’re taking everything”, he pleads once more.

By this point, the young man is aggravated so he turns around, pulls his right hand out of his jacket and draws a gun.  He pulls one at our beloved Hat Man.

This I watch, with no one else around.  I watch as the bullet leaves the barrel of the young man’s gun and drives towards the Hat Man.  I also watch as the bullet bounces off the Hat Man’s fedora and forces it’s way right back to the young man and pierces him a touch below his neck.

I watch as the young man drops his gun and dies instantly, leaving the Hat Man standing there perplexed.  The cops immediately show up, and from the scene presented in front of them, they arrest the Hat Man and take him away from this shop and home; far, far away from his element.

I stood there and didn’t say a thing. 

This says a lot about my character.

9 comments:

Aimless Dreamer said...

Whoa. Put these stories in a book. I would read it.

kseste said...

whooa.. is this trrruuee?
eee so good<3

Anonymous said...

I hope this is not true...and how did it bounced off the fedora unless there is some source of hard/metal to enable that.

Aimless Dreamer said...

It's only a dream guys.

Rick said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Summer said...

One name kept coming to mind the more I was drawn in. Murakami. He is one of my favorite authors. Something I like in his stories, you do in yours. Mysterious characters. You describe the physical features and routines this character might have, leaving you with a curiosity of what this person is like in more dept. I'm not sure if I'm explaining myself correctly, but yeah. Like I said before...Book? Or more short stories?

chrissstttiiine said...

Naw, it was all a dream. BUT I do love Murakami.

Caroline Ha said...

LOL @ anonymous!

"how did it bounced off the fedora unless there is some source of hard/metal to enable that."

...that's why it's a dream, you fucking moron!

Anonymous said...

I always look forward to reading your writings. I hope one of these day, you'll be a famous writer (if that is what you're aiming for, and if not, you should!!) and I get to say, I follow this writer since before!!