Melody

1

Vincent could still feel the sting of her palm on his cheek. He never meant to stare down Mary's blouse, but sometimes his eyes had a mind of their own. There was nothing particularly special about her breasts now that he thought about it. They were large, uneven, and sagged down to her belly on account of her age. By no means was she an alluring woman, but Mary was always good to him when he came around the pub. Vincent supposed her motherly nature had softened her hard expression over the years. And, as with all the women in his life, after a time he couldn't help but imagine what she might look like naked.
Vincent stared at his red swollen cheek in the bathroom mirror of the Dianigian pub. Why was it that he couldn't go a single night without thinking about sex? He wasn't a particularly aggressive man, he didn't care to sleep around, the emotional baggage and rejection of it all was too great a weight to bear. Vincent preferred the quiet simplicity of solidarity. And even still, sex was all around him, turning its nose up at him for his lack of participation.
Vincent left the pub shortly after that, dragging his feet behind himself. The smell of liquor and concupiscence carried down the empty streets. Along the roadside, scantily clad women posed with cheeseburgers thicker than their waist, men with veins popping out of their underwear adorned the bus stop fragrance adverts, and the belting voice of a distant pop song, which sounded faintly like moaning, filled the air. Sex is everywhere, Vincent thought, inescapable. And yet, this sensual feast that surrounded him, he suspected, was a table set for none.
Vincent arrived back at his apartment reeking of depravity. At this late an hour in the night men were either basking in lonely desperation or in the short term ellasion of lovemaking. Vincent had the former to look forward to. His apartment was a bachelor suite, with a single room doubling as a bedroom and a kitchen all at once. Two doors sat along the wall beside his single bed, one for a bathroom and the other a small closet for his jackets and blouses. Vincent fell back against his covers, breathing shallow breaths. Another day gone by which had ultimately amounted to nothing.
For whatever reason, Vincent felt his mind drift back to the sight of Mary's chest, and the blood started rushing to his groin. He sighed at himself, then, as if without thinking, flipped open the laptop which sat beside him on the bed. A slew of pornography sites were bookmarked along the top of his web browser. Vincent wasn't a proud man, but he felt no shame about his porn addiction. He found that everyone was a porn addict in one way or another. Videos featuring skinny girls with wide hips abounded his computer screen. Vincent scrolled through mindlessly before landing upon a video of an older woman with thick thighs and a protruding belly.
The video followed a young man sleeping in bed alongside the woman. Vincent felt himself stiffen up right away. The woman reached back for her partner's hand and wrapped it around herself. The male actor gripped her shoulder and their legs became intertwined with each other, then he began embracing her neck. In a sudden shameful burst of excitement, Vincent ejaculated into his palm. The actors were both fully clothed and had done nothing but embrace each other, but it aroused him all the same. Vincent closed the computer again, brushing it aside. He felt like half a man, a shell of a person. At this time of night, he couldn't help but feel that way. Vincent curled up with a pillow and promptly fell asleep.

***

Vincent arose from bed with the reluctance of a much older man. He hadn't slept nearly long enough, but work awaited him all the same. Vincent was a foundryman at the metal factory. It was as mind numbing and inconsequential a job as one could find while still affording a living. Vincent's eyes made dark circles and his throat still felt arid from last night's whiskey. Beyond that, his head had been throbbing all week. Vincent busied himself shredding old sale receipts which had begun crowding his locker when he noticed the foreman heading in his direction. Belfast had clear skin for a man of some fifty years and wore a stupid grin at all hours of the morning.
-You look worn down, he said with half a smirk across his face. Vincent's expression was a mask of discontent.
-No more than usual. Belfast let out a sharp breath.
-Why don't you grab yourself a coffee and meet me in my office. He patted Vincent on the shoulder and walked away before he had time to take the statement for a question. Vincent sighed and swung his locker closed again.
Belfast's office was located up on the third floor above the furnaces. It was the only location in the building that got air conditioning and didn't smell like ash. Belfast sat across the desk, smoking a cigarette and sipping tea. He handed Vincent a smoke, grinning as though it were some great favor. Vincent took it all the same, lighting it between chapped lips.
-As I'm sure you know, the Omega Transportation shipment is due at the end of this quarter, and I worry we might fall behind with the holiday season coming up. It's our biggest sale of the year of course. Vincent ran his fingers through his dark, thinning curls. Omega Transportations was one of the major trucking companies across the west coast, the factory contributed a shipment of new rims and wheel wells every year. "I'm willing to provide you some overtime to get us caught up over the course of these next few weeks and make yourself a little extra coin," Belfast said, discarding his half smoked cigarette. Vincent sighed, unsurprised.
-I'm content with my current workload as it is, he said. Belfast huffed, tapping his fingers against his hardwood desktop.
-I would strongly encourage you to reconsider, he said. "In all honesty, you lack discipline Vincent. Most of these other guys have wives and kids to look after, this is a difficult time of the year for us all, financially speaking, and I know if anyone has the time to spare... Well, anyway, there's no better opportunity to garner some recognition for yourself around here." Vincent clenched his hand into a fist below the desk. Belfast sat in an office all day with his feet kicked up to avoid face wrinkles. That, and the obnoxious belly around his waist was enough evidence to betray his self-disciplined pretense.
-I prefer to live a simple life, recognition has never been among my concerns. Thanks anyway. Vincent stood up from his chair across Belfast's desk and made for the door.
-Well, keep it in mind. Your contributions wouldn't be soon forgotten, Belfast added. Vincent felt pity for the fat man, speaking in inauthentic bureaucratic jargon, as if he had any sympathy for the rest of them. Vincent figured the posturing must get tiring after all those years. He finished his cigarette and pretended to look busy as the hours slowly melted away. Before long, night fell.