Contribution to Rallo

Jessica sits on a red rubber swing, moving slowly back, and forth. She looks up and around the frame. Its silver polished surface reflects the sun's shriek into her eyes at each point.

She squeezes them shut.

The chains holding her and the seat work together silently. A mute tension and release.
Jessica thinks, that's this place all over. Absence. Silence. I would fucking kill to hear some piano chords.

Jessica?
...
Jessica?
Oh my god, you're back! Where are you?
I can't see. It must be one of the lower levels. They've locked the door. It's all black.
Well, more a kind of dark violet.
Are you hurt?

Jessica stares ahead. The fence at the end of the playground is electric. Beyond the fence, dense woodland, which she has walked through dozens of times. Past the woods, it's a mystery.

My leg.
Huh?
My left leg. I think it's broken, maybe not. It's some kind of wrong anyhow, ow!
What the shit!
What is it?
I got pins and needles. Piss.

Jessica still looking straight ahead. For the past few minutes she has been watching a boy make his way out from the trees and through the thick, unkempt patches of grass toward her.

He stumbles rather well, she thought.

The boy was about twelve years old. He might also have been eighteen. His ruddy red cheeks, spattering of freckles and wild ginger hair belied any certainties, or even solid attempts at guesswork.

What's going on Jessica?
Sshh. Sorry. Some kid, this boy is walking towards me.
Inside the compound?
Outside.
How?
Shrug.

Reaching the fence, he straightens. A couple of quiet pops sound from his back. He clasps his hands together above his head, and rests them on top. With his elbows thrust forward like this, he looks sure of something.

Under his arms, huge damp spots of soaked shirt were exposed. Like ink-blot tests, thinks Jessica. What do I see in them?

The heat presses down all around, it's a merciless beat. She can smell sweat escape from her violet ballet slippers. It might have been the hottest day ever.

"So it's true", said the boy.

Beat. Beat.

He locks eyes with Jessica for a moment, and then lets his gaze stray past her, to behind. All the while chewing his upper lip, softly.

What's he doing Jess?
Just...nothing.

Jessica turns around, wrapping her right arm round the chain for balance.

The lab was large, windowless, grey. Featureless. It was cast entirely in shadow.

Jessica makes certain she is alone in this space with the boy, and looks back around to face him.

She smiles.

He emits a small grunt, falls into a minor coughing fit.

I smiled at him.
Oh. Are your teeth still all black?
Mmm-hmm.
Cool. Have some fun with him.

Two drops of water splash down lightly on to Jessica's face. She shoots a glance skyward. The warm blue was clear, so she widens her eyes, like when standing in front of new glass.

She realises that her eyes are watering again. Goddamn this hole. Bowing her head down to her lap, she flicks a look toward the boy again. She gently pulls the belt of her bathrobe free from the loops. She opens the left side, which folds across the right. Her small breast hung off her chest like a blob of white paint on primed canvas.

So?
I'm flashing my tit.
Ha.

The boy lifts his shirt to his face, and hurriedly sops up the cooling bubbles of liquid.

Jessica tilts her head to the side. Well?

The boy attempts a smile, but what came out was more oval-shaped than crescent. His jeans slid down to his ankles, then his...oh, he isn't wearing any underwear. He gathers his prick and bollocks into his fist and tugged, thrice. Then again.

His hand drops to his side. Jessica sees his little nub. She thinks to herself, it looks like something that ought to be pushed, rather than pulled. Like a button. She touches it, and he trips over his bundled trousers in surprise. His nose began to stream blood, and he yelled out.

He's running away now.
Did you scare him, Jessica?
Let me rub your leg. Where does it hurt? There?
There.
There?...there?...there?
Not there.
There?
Not there.

A half hour later, Rallo dropped his hand on Jessica's head, which rested on her folded hands against the swing seat. Her body was crumpled tired on the gravel, her robe slid down to her waist. Her eyes closed.

Rallo, melting.

'Are you still daydreaming about your 'velvet' revolution?'
'What's that?'
'Never mind. Would you like to hear a joke?'
'Shoot.'
'How much does a pirate pay to have his ears pierced? A buck an ear!'
'What's a pirate?'

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Link to 'Rallo'