52 Stories from 52 Photos: ‘#11’
Every man wants something. Be it love, money, pleasure or power. Some want everything, others; simply the freedom to live. Once you figure that out, life becomes an entirely different journey to navigate. The knowledge that every person on this earth longs for something and being able to identify it gives you the map, leaving others to flail in the wilderness. He knew this all too well, having studied mankind every moment he walked among it. With an almost incandescent degree of removal from his fellow citizens, here was one not so much looking in from the outside, but observing from above. This was heightened and magnified in the city. Here, hundreds of people passed him constantly like droplets in a great lake — and each face burst forth, permeating his thoughts with a whole new life.
Once you open yourself up to the private tributaries of strangers’ desires; you can’t just switch it off. By the time he’d realised this it was entirely too late and he burst in and out of countless stories with no choice. There had been one real advantage to this hyper-sensitive advancement however— one that had just developed in the last few months. He’d scarcely liked to acknowledge it at first; such was the gravity of its implications. But it seemed that knowing how others thought and felt had been a small jump away from actually seeing what they’d do next.
Earlier that week, he’d been called into a meeting at work with his main client who was getting cold feet about their partnership for the coming year. This was a big account and his colleagues were all nervous.
“You see guys, we love working with you but it’s just standard practice for us to court other agencies every few years in order to keep the brand fresh — you’re professionals, you know how it works.”
His CEO looked at him across the cafetieres and pastries, raising an eyebrow. This was the moment. Years of observation, countless experiments and immeasurable research became but a second’s pause, as cloud shadow swept the conference room. He saw each answer, and each outcome before him:
“You’d be making a mistake here; we know what you need”
They shake hands and leave, for good.
“Understood, but you’ll be back before the new year!”
They all laugh, exchange pleasantries and go regardless.
“Please stick around, we’ve got some big ideas”
They smile sympathetically and make their excuses.
“Well, I’m sure we can work with your competitors instead”
They rise abruptly to go, the CEO scowling.
“Before you go, check out the refresh we’ve been working up for you”
He quickly brought up on screen some very loose-form ideas that creative had been playing with out of hours. They were intrigued, and scheduled another meeting for the following week expecting a full proposal.
“OK, you can still surprise us. I’m worried you know us too well!” the client directed at him. There were slapped backs and once they’d left, the CEO smiled and him and shook his head.
“Vraiment je ne sais pas comment tu le fais, but you always do!”
It was dusk when he left the office and the capital’s lights were illuminating passers by. He’d intentionally blur his vision as he made his way through the busy streets. He found that if he couldn’t focus in on faces he stood a chance of blocking out their tales and was able to worry about his own. A homeless man flew into his path and began desperately asking for money for food. He was erratic, and people were going out of their way to avoid their exchange. He saw his own paths splinter and bloom in front of him:
“I don’t have any change on me I’m sorry”
He erupts with anger, accusing him of lying.
“Are you sure it’ll go on food and not something else?”
He breaks down, walking away cursing and sobbing.
“C0me with me, I’m getting some food”
He says he can buy it himself, frantically patting him down.
“I’ve only got a bit but you can take it”
He takes it then follows him down the street asking for more.
“I hope this gets you what you need, good luck”
He thanks him and shakes his hand telling him no one gives him a break and that tonight he was at the end of his tether. They walk a little together before parting ways.
Weathering an overload of behavioural and conversational avenues was incredibly tiring, and he felt he was ageing far beyond his years. His island of solace was his partner; a quiet, mysterious girl he’d met in a cafe, quite out of time. He was on his way to meet her for dinner as they often would after work. Her careful choice of words and peaceful presence soothed him, silencing much of the messages and directions that plagued him. They sat together outside a bistro on the Southbank, taking in the balmy close of the day. After a light meal and their routinely calm conversation she had carefully put down her glass of wine and touched her lips where some lingered, deep red. His eyes twinged and he saw pan out what he had always dreaded.
“Listen,” she began, “I’m just going to say it. I care about you but I need to be alone, I’m not ready for all this right now. I’m sorry.”
“You are ready, I’ll show you, c’mon”
She smiles sadly and walks away.
“How could you do this? I need you”
She smiles sadly and walks away.
“I can change, let me try, please”
She smiles sadly and walks away.
“But you’re all that I have.”
She smiles sadly and walks away.
“I adore you, please stay with me”
As she gently pulled her hand out from under his, he’d gone through countless eventualities but they all ended the same. She smiled sadly and walked away.
