Evening…: “Not yet, but soon”

So I realize I’m behind on this one but I figured I’d post it and then get on with the next one:

 

Evening was the time for…many things.

Evening was the time to grab a pint or three.

Evening was the time to prep for dinner.

Evening was the time to nap.

Evening was the time to drift into the expansive abyss of your 87 year-old memory.

Evening was the time to take life by the balls and not let go.

Finally and thankfully, evening was the time to just be what, why, where, when, how and whomever you wanted to be at the time evening came around.

Carl was the one who liked to grab a pint (or three) during the evening because it helped him work quickly and thoroughly in his profession. His profession you ask? Carl’s profession, and if you ever see him perform this task you will understand why he has been described as the “bodacious king of cleanliness” (by some stoner kid – but whatever, some one actually said it aloud), was cleaning shitters.

 

AUTHOR”S NOTE: “Shitters” is Carl’s word not mine.

 

Carl was a wizard at shitter cleaning. Most of us call them toilets, or urinals, or bathroom stalls or washroom baskets or water closets, but Carl, the wizard, the bodacious king of cleanliness, calls them shitters. He finds the pints oil him enough so that he becomes more a man of action than thought while shitter cleaning. Carl had been performing this task for a little over 30 years and he was just three days away from retirement. What he would do after he crossed that threshold was anyone’s guess, however, Carl promised he would make time for evening pints because they represented his favourite time of the day.

Evelyn liked to use her evening time to prep dinner for her family or what was left of it. After the kids moved out, family dinner consisted of just Evelyn and Harry now, but they are family dinners nonetheless. Harry had become so used to Evelyn’s supper concoctions over the years that he didn’t bat an eyelash when she presented him with a veggie shepherd’s pie with risotto and pinto bean side.

Terry liked to nap. Terry loved to nap. Terry’s nap from 5pm-7pm was what made Terry’s nights and early mornings bearable. There’s not much more to say about Terry right now because he’s napping.

Beatrice was always at her most sentimental in the evening. Being 87 years of age and in relatively good health leaves you with a literal lifetime of memories. For many years, Bea would pick up her children from school and play whatever games came to mind at the time until dinner needed to be tended to. As the years passed she found herself caring for her grandchildren and playing some of the same games she played with their parents. Now, because this time of day was so filled with activities that now longer occured, it is when Bea loses herself in visions of the past.

Evening for Greg was a time of travel, mostly by sea-doo. He would hop on and speed the twenty minutes it took from the marina to the shore of his private island with his hair flipping in the wind. He felt as though he was really alive in those twenty minutes with the sun beating on his face and water kissing his legs. He knew one day he would have to take the boat, but for now it was the sea-doo because during the day, while he was making the money that allowed him to afford his own island, he didn’t really feel as though he was challenged. But, this got his heart beating, this made him feel it.

This evening is not the evening when these players will meet but soon enough they will and it will be when each decides, whether because of want or need, that they must change their routine. The consequences will result in catastrophe for one, elation for another, a new beginning and an end for two more and finally a shocking revelation for the last.

That time will come, but for now, for this evening, they will simply enjoy what they liked to enjoy.

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About jtkwriting

Writer living in Toronto. "Sneak out of your window darling, let's live like outlaws honey." View all posts by jtkwriting

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