The Hexacoto

Listening to the sound of one hand clapping

Month: July, 2016

The Drafts

(This is post is backdated, written on 23rd July, 2016)

Draft 1:

Let’s prepare for what is to come. In a couple of days, you’ll have to go to Kentucky for the funeral. What will you do there, what will you say?

Can you bear the thought of Josh being lowered into the ground? Can you bear the thought of dirt permanently covering his face?

You cannot.

Draft 2:

You’re on the train, you’re on the way to work, wipe your tears. Wind it back a couple moments before the interment. The eulogy; what will you say?

“My father was an exceptional man…” that is not right. That is a line from the movie “Death at a Funeral.”

“Stop all the clocks, turn off the telephone…” W H Auden. Very “Four Weddings and a Funeral,” but very apt.

“I thought that love would last forever, I was wrong.”

Draft 3:

Oh man the last thing people want on this commute on a Monday morning is a weeping man.

Draft 4:

I will speak his words and his desires in the best way that I can.

I will speak his truth and his ethos.

I will deliver his message, even though he is gone.

I will be his rock, immovable against the slowly battering waves.


<– DAY 5

DAY 7 –>

The Determination

(This is post is backdated, written on 23rd July, 2016)

I was on a boat, taking a video of my friend and his sister being dragged behind whilst tubing. It was as my friend’s birthday, and he had invited me to join him to celebrate his birthday. I figured I should get out of the house and see if I was capable of being celebratory. They wiped out, after a while.

“It’ll be your turn next,” they said. “OK,” I replied.

I put on a life vest and got on the tube. I signalled for more speed. “Alright, lean back a little, we’re starting!” the friend driving the boat said.

The tube jerked as the boat picked up speed. I tightened my grip.

“More speed!” I signalled.

Soon, I was bumping along, skimming water, battered by the waves. The boat turned and I skewed at an angle. I needed to do something quickly lest I pancaked and flipped. Readjusting my weight, I shot another thumbs up. “More speed!” my thumb communicated to my friend.

It was not long before every turn threatened to roll me over, every straight dash threatened to leave me behind. I held on, but had to constantly readjust my weight. My fists were clenched and my knuckles white — that hurt but I was holding on and staying on top. I had reached a point where I realised it wouldn’t have been wise to call for more speed but I couldn’t have anyway — I didn’t know that at the time but the boat was more or less at its top speed. I was determined to stay on top; I had to. I came out here today to celebrate my friend’s birthday and I will not let myself fail to enjoy myself and impinge on his birthday fun with my disappointment in myself had I let myself go and fallen in the water and so I must hold on, I am determined to and I will achieve what I had set out to do today.

“Dude, you did great! I don’t think people usually tube at that speed!” my friend’s friend said, as I climbed back on to the boat.

“Thanks. I tried to stay on top,” I replied.

“Maybe you gotta let go, sometimes. Sometimes it’s fun just to let go and wipe out,” he said.

“Maybe, but not today,” I said.


<– DAY 4

DAY 6 –>

The Detectives

(This is post is backdated, written on 23rd July, 2016)

(Going through his belongings)

Who is this person? Who is that person? From whom is this card from? What shall we keep? What does this say? What does it mean? Where can we put this? Would you want to keep this? Why did he save this? Why did he save this? Why did he save that?

Why did he do that?

Why did we not know that? Why did we not do anything about that. Why did he not let us know?

What could we have done? What could we have done?

What shall we do? What should we do? What have we decided?

I think we are done.


<– DAY 3

DAY 5 –>

The Darkness

(This is post is backdated, written on 23rd July, 2016)

Being one step behind
when chasing the sun
is all that’s needed
to be steeped in darkness
and mired in the shadow of

Those, bright eyed and
fixated on the light,
forget they cast shadows
on those trailing them
who chase the same fire that

Do gleam so pretty,
these are our dreams
with passions that burn
but do give no heat
as we fear dying cold and in ignominy.


<– DAY 2

DAY 4 –>

The Deadline

(This is post is backdated, written on 23rd July, 2016)

“Hi, here’s the article attached in this email as per our deadline. Let me know if you have any questions about the article.” 6.10pm

On the day that Josh died, after he had been carted to the medical examiner’s office, I went into the office.

“If it’s OK, I would like to gather my interview notes and work from home for the next few days. My article is more or less done and I should be able to deliver it on Friday, our original deadline,” I told my editor.

“Are you sure? Do you need more time? It’s OK if you want to extend your deadline,” my editor said.

“I’m OK, it should be fine. I’ll be able to deliver it on time; I’d just like to be able to work from home. I don’t want to hold up production,” I replied.

“If you say so. If you need more time, just let me know,” she said.

“I will. If there’s any inkling that I won’t be able to deliver my article on time I’ll be sure to let you know,” I said.

It was 11am or so on Thursday, and I received an email from my editor. “Just checking, how’s the article coming along?”

“The article’s coming along well. In fact, I should be able to turn it in today by late afternoon or in the evening,” I replied.

I don’t know why I promised to turn in my article one day early, when I was only about a third of the way through writing it. I don’t know what I was trying to achieve.

Fellow journalist friend Aaron invited me to hang out to do work with him. I guess it’s good to get out of the house and actually get work done. The night before I had stayed up from 1am to 4am working on the article and only managed to get my data and graphs done.

“Do you know how you’re going to handle the market report you have due as well,” asked my editor later in the day.

“Well I’m about done with the article, will be submitting it soon, stay tuned! Once I’m done with the article, I’ll start working on the market report. That’s not due until next Tuesday right? Well I’m coming into the office tomorrow, on Friday so I’ll work on the market report then. You know how these go, it doesn’t take me much to turn those out. I could probably turn it in on Monday,” I said.

Why am I promising my editor to turn in my market report one day before deadline again? I don’t know what I was trying to achieve.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah it’ll be fine.”

“OK see you tomorrow then.”

“See you tomorrow.”

My iced coffee turned warm, Aaron had finished his writing and left for his event. Shit, it was 5pm already, I’m maybe only about 75 percent done with my article. Late afternoon had passed. All that’s left is evening.

I had finished writing at 6pm. Glanced through it for quick edits, attached the file, compose.

I don’t know what I had achieved.


<– DAY 1

DAY 3 –>

The Dishes


(This is post is backdated, written on 23rd July, 2016)

It is 6.30pm and I need to do the dishes to make food. I haven’t eaten all day. I have a lot of groceries that you had left behind that I need to use so they don’t go bad.

Josh, I can’t do the dishes you left behind. The cup with the poppy seeds for your stupid poppy seed tea, I’m sorry for getting mad at you for leaving poppy seeds all over the floor. I’m washing that giant measuring cup you filled with Lactaid because of your lactardness. I don’t know what the fuck was in that bowl that was your last meal you had while alive. I don’t know how to grieve in company. You were the only one I ever cried openly to. I don’t know how to do this. Yes I always noticed when you cleaned the house. Yes I always noticed when you did things for me. I just never said it. I want to be able to call you a cup slut again, when you use up all the cups in the house. I know you went on reddit Singapore to ask them about what to get me for my birthday. I really appreciated it and the gifts you got me, even though you were tight on cash. I just never told you that. I don’t know how to do your dishes, Josh.

It is 9.30pm. The dishes are done. I can finally cook now.


<– DAY 0

DAY 2 –>

I want to hold your hand one last time before it turns cold but I don’t know how.