There's A Spider Lives In My Wingmirror

A story of life and regrets

 

There’s A Spider Lives In My Wingmirror

 

            How did I end up here?

            Wish I knew.

            Stupidity, incompetence, laziness, apathy, take your pick. The list could be endless.

            Self pity has now become a speciality of mine, not an attractive feature apparently, so I’ve been told.

            She broke my heart, or I broke hers. I can’t even remember now, it’s become so confused and lost in the mists of time.

            Maybe that’s another reason to add to the list? Not paying attention.

            Signals, signs, hints, I was supposed to look out for them all. I’m not a mind reader; I’m just ordinary, maybe too bloody ordinary. I didn’t spot any of them, not even the glaringly obvious ones.

            Well of course they’re obvious now, but at the time, at the time I was a fool, an even bigger one than I am now. If that were possible?

            See what I mean about the self pity?

            Gets on your wick after a while, certainly gets on mine.

            About the only thing I’ve got left now is the car, the one I’m sitting in now. It holds some memories, of course I try and just remember the good ones, not the ones where I arrived home and found all my stuff thrown out on the street. Her face bright red, screaming. Funny thing was she still looked beautiful, long blonde hair, piercing light blue eyes.

            Most of my stuff is still in the back of the car, there’s not enough room for it in the skanky bed-sit I’m now forced to call home. Damp walls, stale smell, communal toilet. It’s a right palace.

            So I spend most of my time here now, in the car, busy going nowhere.

            Y’know I think she might only have gone out with me because of the car. Not this one obviously, it was a little red sports car, low slung, supercharged. Hah! Those were the days.

            I lost that too.

            But that wasn’t my fault.

            Ok, maybe it was.

            But I was told it was a sure thing.

            They were right; it’s a mug’s game.

            I should’ve listened, but as we’ve already pointed out that’s not one of my strong points.

            As I look back, gambling was only one of the many things I did wrong, but at the time. Well okay, maybe that’s rose tinted specs, but when I was winning things were bloody good.

            I tried to tell myself that she was the centre of my universe, that I was doing it all for her. But as she pointed out, by way of breaking two of my teeth, that it was all about me.

            I suppose, in a way, she was right, but I didn’t hear her complain about the presents. Okay I had to pawn a few when things got tight, but it’s the thought that counts, right? As least she got presents. I know some guys who haven’t remembered a single birthday, anniversary, nothing.

            I’m not saying I’m perfect though, I did forget a couple, maybe turned up drunk at the odd family get together. Her brothers are very protective; my jaw still clicks when I yawn.

            I, on the other hand, am an only child. The product of an over protective mother. She’d turn in her grave if she could see me now. Either that or nag me.

            My father?

            Least said about him the better.

            Although the terrifying thing is we’re probably very alike.

            He’s a screw up too.

            There’s a spider lives in my wingmirror. I can see him now, poking out, having a look at the big bad word, but he just gets on with it, may have chosen the maddest place to live, but he gets by, he lives his life.

            I wish I was like that spider.

            Living the simple life.

            But I had to go and complicate it. I had to go and meet Tina.

            Bad mistake.

            Okay, I know that now.

            Boy do I know it now.

            But at the time. At the time I suppose I was flattered. A pretty girl, who laughed at my jokes. God how easily I was led astray. A giggle, a bat of the eyes, accidentally on purpose brushing against each other. It all started out as innocent fun, but an office party too far and it started to get serious. It became like a drug, and I hate to get more and more.

            I’m not making excuses, but I must have one of those addictive personalities. If it wasn’t Tina it was gambling, if it wasn’t gambling it was cars. I would dive in with both feet and damn the consequences.

            Maybe now I’m addicted to misery?

            Anyway, Tina started to demand more and more of my time. And that’s not an excuse either. All I had to say was no, but I found it a very very difficult word to say to Tina. She had, shall we say, certain ways of persuading you.

            So I started to gamble more, well I had to do something to afford all the gifts for Tina, then I would feel guilty and have to buy the wife something, so it was costing me double. But at the time it was double the fun, well it had to be otherwise what was the point.

            Fun is expensive though.

            The bailiffs were testimony to that.

            They came and took the sports car right from the drive, right in front of her; I had a hell of a lot of explaining to do. That was probably when she started being suspicious of me, when the questions started.

            But did I notice?

            Course I bloody didn’t.

            I thought I was still having the time of my life.

            If I gambled a wee bit more I could easily afford another car, a better one.

            Yeah, I was that stupid.

            Bills started pilling up, I just ignored them, and anyway, the next big win was just around the corner. Least that’s what I kept telling myself. So I kept going, the bets getting bigger and bigger as I chased losses, but still I told myself, each and every time, that this was the one, this was the one that was going to bust the bank, see me on easy street.

            Luckily she was out when the bailiffs called again. The telly, DVD player, Xbox, and stereo system. I told her we’d been burgled. We had the best sex ever that night, nothing beats a sympathy shag.

            That spider’s dangling by a thread, looks precarious, but he knows exactly what he’s doing, or maybe he just makes it look that way.

            Tina introduced me to her family. Things were moving way too fast. I couldn’t even remember if I’d told her I was married. It wasn’t turning out to be the bit of fun I’d hoped for.

            All I had to say was no.

            All I had to do was walk away.

            All I had to do was grow a backbone.

            Did I do any of the above?

            Come on, it’s me we’re talking about, what do you think?

            She went and proposed.

            F**K!

            And guess what I did?

            Christ, I’m useless.

            I went and said yes.

            Just one word, one simple word, that was all I had to say, and I go and say the wrong one.

            If it hadn’t happened to me I’d laugh. The way I was heading I was going to end up on a daytime chat show. I can just imagine the booing and hissing.

            The gambling got even worse, a few wins made me think I’d got a winning system, now I’ll let you into a little secret, there’s no such thing as a winning system. I started to pawn things again, little things, things that wouldn’t be missed, at least not too quickly. Petty cash went missing at work, full scale investigation, everyone under suspicion.

            Tina got the sack. I’d lent her some money, to buy a present for someone, or something like that. But I’d forgotten it was from the petty cash. They must’ve marked the notes or something. But I’ve no idea how they didn’t trace it back to me? Tina must’ve kept quiet, or maybe just forgotten. I did feel a pang of guilt when they frogmarched her out of the office.

            I should’ve spoken up, I should’ve done something, but I just put my head down. The look she gave me will probably stay with me for a long time, whether she thought it was me I don’t know. I didn’t see her much after that, things kinda took their course and to use a terrible cliché, we drifted apart.

            To be honest, I was glad, one less problem. It’d stopped being fun anyway, and maybe I needed stability.

            Stability, ha!

            That was something I definitely didn’t have. What I really needed was to stop gambling, but it had its claws in deep, it wasn’t going to let go without a struggle, and I wasn’t up to the fight.

            They told me it was a sure thing, a dead cert, couldn’t loose.

            WHY DO I LISTEN?

            I pawned my wedding ring, some of her jewellery, just bits and bobs, and put it all on. On the nose, winner takes all.

            I just had to sit back, watch this dead cert romp home and collect my winnings.

            It fell at the first fence.

            WHY DO I LISTEN?

            When I arrived home my stuff was strewn across the street and she was waiting for me, eyes wide, hands on hips. I remember thinking she was beautiful.

            My feet didn’t have a chance to touch the ground.

            Her face was red, those eyes were filled with tears and she was screaming. Boy was she screaming.

            Tina’s brothers had visited, apparently she was pregnant.

            So much for one less problem.

            It was the tears that got to me, the way they streaked her makeup, huge sad panda eyes, staring, pleading, accusing. The blows that rained down on me I could cope with, but those tears. Those tears ripped me up inside.

            The bad things seem easier to remember. All I can remember about our honeymoon is an argument I had with a waiter. Our wedding day consists of me complaining about the DJ’s music and then her crying after I’d laughed at her father’s dancing. That’s it. That’s all I can remember. All the bad stuff.

            Surely we did have some good times?

            The spider tracks down a fly that’s trapped on his web, zeroing in on it slowly, knowing it has nowhere to run. I watch in fascination as it goes in for the kill.

            I saw her the other day, my wife. Sorry ex-wife. Divorce papers came through. Can’t say I blame her, well I don’t, she did nothing wrong. She looked beautiful; in fact she might even have looked happy. I didn’t get out of the car, I just watched.

            She’d had her hair cut, a short bob. It suited her. Showed off those eyes.

            Tina’s brothers caught up with me as well. I supposed in some way it made us feel better, I deserved it, they got to release some of their anger. Three days in hospital gave me time to think.

            I haven’t gambled since.

            Mainly because I haven’t got any money, but I’m learning, just little steps. You never know, one day I might even turn into a decent human being.

            It’s a long shot, but I might take a little flutter on it.

            Oh you’ll never guess what I found out, that spider, turns out it was a female. Hundreds of the little buggers came flying out from the wingmirror the other night, it must’ve been pregnant. I’d never have bet on that.

Reviews

[Dan Bullock]

This is a bit mad but I've had an idea...how about, you don't mention you're sat in the car but you also end with him killing himself? Make hints towards things maybe...I did wonder if it'd go that way but then you could write it...in the end...

"They found me, in the car, watching the wingmirror...smoke was pouring from under the garage door...I'd spent so much time forgetting details of where I was and what I'd done, the information overloaded and this wasn't even a simple way out, it was the only way out."

Because descriptively I do like it, I just want a turn, a twitch or/and a killer blow :p