Windmill Desperation.

Windmill Desperation.
Written by Chad St James
Copyright© 2010

The night coldness bites against my skin. I adjust the zip on my jacket to shield from the wind. I look up at the wind mill. The spot lights around it base are out of action. They do not look like they have fulfilled their function in quite a while. I once heard that the wind mill was built in the eighteen hundreds by convicts. It’s ironic once built by convicts now used by another form of them, just in another time and era. How did I get here? Memories flood back like the waves during a storm splashing against the cliff face.

My mother waves at me from outside of the bus’ window. She wipes tears from her face. Her only son is moving to the city. My Labrador sits next to her with a dumb look on his face, tongue wagging widely. I will miss the late nights when he would climb into my bed and the fight for the blankets would follow. All though I shall miss my comfort zone, I’m filled with excitement, a new beginning.

I glance around as the towering high risers that loom overhead. The sun shines down on my face with beautiful relaxing warmth. Jesse runs towards me and flings his arms around in an embrace as the two of us kiss. This is love. So I believe. I have a job, a new place to live and a boyfriend. Seen from a distance it all seems perfect.

I let out a sigh. It was. The moon shines overhead like a spying eye watching me. Cars drive by, a possum scuttles through the branches overhead. The sound of it makes me jump at first. Dry leaves blow across the concrete path. I stomp my foot, stopping one leave as it crunches under my shoe. With one moment everything can change. That’s how life is and especially when it is unexpected, it take you completely off guard.

The lights flash to the beat of the music. I push through the crowd of dancing guys. My head throbs slightly from too much tequila. I smile. I see Jesse’s back and continue to push through the crowd. Devastation hits. Jesse turns around dancing, but he is not alone. I watch his tongue press into the mouth of another guy who returns the favour. Right at that moment it ends. I’m disgusted, betrayed and used.

Smells of greasy food flood my nostrils. The chip fryer sizzles behind me. My manager shrugs, ‘Sorry you’re just not working out here.’ Those words slice through me like a thousand knives. My life is falling apart, my second blow. There is that old saying, bad luck comes in three.

Staring at the envelope I scratch my head downheartedly, a long list of job prospect rejects and now this. I tear open the envelope with the inevitable fear of what news it brings. The envelope drops from my shaking hands and falls to the kitchen table, you can only read half of the real estate stamp as I had torn along the seal. Eviction.

A white Volkswagen pulls up in front of me as I sit down on the limestone brick wall. The window winds down to reveal the face of a podgy man in his fifties. He grins showing a row of yellowing teeth. ‘How much?’ he says in a husky sounding voice. I’m not ready, not yet. I shake my head and watch him drive off. A sigh escapes my lips. Will I ever be? A boy who looks around nineteen, walks towards me and stands about three metres away leaning against the wall with his back. He’s dressed in a pair of fitted black jeans and an expensive white shirt. There is something familiar about him. I’ve seen him before and then I remember.

The music explodes around me. I take another sip of my vodka and lemonade. Alcohol numbs the pain. I watch the people dance and sway to the sound of the bass as the colourful lasers flicker overhead. I light up a cigarette and take a long drag. The smoke flows right down to my lungs in an ever so soothing manner. I glance down the bar and see a young guy smiling proudly. He’s dressed in the latest brand clothing. I watch all the people talk around him as he laughs at what they say not really taking any notice. To be that popular, that would be nice.

Here he is, now standing at the wind mill waiting. ‘How’s it been tonight?’ He says cheerfully. I shrug. I don’t know really know what to say. I find myself wondering what brought him here. I don’t dare ask. He looks ultimately just like an average normal person. But at the end of the day here he is. Another car pulls up to the curve and he gives me a questioning stare. I nod my head and a smile grows across his face. I watch him lean in through the window and then minutes later I am left alone at the windmill once more.

I live in a society where its very own welfare ultimately does shit all. ‘Sorry you got fired or you quit, you’re not legible for payments.’ It seems like all they’re good for, is sitting behind their counters pretending to work on a computer, while you’re waiting in the que for an hour to hear the devastating words ‘No’. Desperation leads people to all types of extremes. Break in and robbery, rape, drugs, violence, prostitution. Ultimately it all comes down to money. Blame a society that is based on class.

Desperation leads me here, standing alone at the wind mill waiting for the car to pull up. With one choice everything will change. A doorway into whole new world could open. The question is once I step through that doorway will it slam close behind me to no point of return? A black BMW slowly pulls up. It shines perfectly under the lights. Anxiety, nervousness and fear race through my body. I stand waiting against the wall. I take another glance at the wind mill behind me. Can I actually do this? Can I go through with it? I hear the car door creak open. A man in his early thirties dressed in a business suit signals at me. I gulp.

Windmill desperation. He climbs out of the car resting his right arm on the roof and stands there facing me with a questioning look upon his face as I feel he undresses me with his eyes. With a smirk on his face, he likes what he sees. Fears of the unknown, memories of the past months constantly flick through my mind like an old black and white film. What choice will I make? What have I become? In the end I know this isn’t me.


This is a short story I kinda wrote a while back that I’ve fixed up a little and I’m thinking of possibly turning it into a short film script that I’ll hopefully be filming in the next few months. Has a bit of potential I think.

What do you guys think?

Chad St James the drag queen?
'Lost' according to Cats.

Author: Chad St James

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  2. Jesus, man… don't you ever sleep?!

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