Poetry in Motion

03

Tapping the obnoxiously orange bottle on the counter, Arthur leaned against one hand and used a finger from the other to poke the white pills around. It was these small circular items that was all that was keeping him balanced throughout a day, or as balanced as he could be. There were times, many in fact, that Arthur found himself lost in his own head; hours he could spend lost in thought, even if those thoughts were nonsensical, pointless, hitting a brick wall and disintegrating to nothing. Being down on terra firma couldn't be so bad, if, well, Arthur's life wasn't bad.

It wasn't ideal, he compared and contrasted quite a lot, even if when in his thoughts. Others did not seem to be having such a hard time, as himself. His mouth pulled into a straight line as he picked up the dosage needed for the day, or at least the morning. Admittedly, he may have been taking advantage of these being on repeat prescription and everything...he definitely took more than what he was meant to. But if he didn't, he didn't know what happened.

There were moments, but these were like miniature blackouts. He got through the day somehow, and always woke up at home; but in between, the small details? No, no he couldn't remember. It should've scared him; it would've scared anyone else. But actually, Arthur found himself not minding. If it was something important, if something important happened, surely, he'd remember? Sure, he did have more lucid moments when he was trying not to totally binge on medication to survive the day, but at the end of it all, he just ended up feeling empty, hollow even. Not quite here.

Hearing shuffling footsteps, he quickly washed the pills down with some water and looked to the kitchen doorway. Penny was on the move; his eyes tracked her movements warily. The woman was frail, barely able to walk around their home without looking like she was going to crumble, like her legs couldn't hold her weight at all.

"You should've called for me." Arthur said, replacing the remnant pills back into the three or four bottles before putting them out of her eyesight. She didn't need to know he was taking more than usual. In fact, Arthur was unsure whether she knew how much he was even meant to take. She worried for him at the best of times. This would just cause her worry to go through the roof. Sure, as a mother it was her job to worry for her son, but considering their circumstances, Arthur was the one who was shouldering all the worry.

His job didn't pay well or much at all, even. What little pay he did get, was just barely enough for groceries and bills. He wasn't sure how aware Penny was to their circumstances. Their struggling. His struggling. It was very hard to keep putting on a brave face, smiling when not meaning it, feeling utterly washed out and hollow for the sake of saving someone's feelings. Mother or not, it was hard. Mothers were meant to know when their children were having it hard, Penny did not seem to notice Arthur's withdrawn moments. She seemed lost in her own mind too, something Arthur guessed that was a genetic trait between them.

"I can just about manage to get out here, Happy." Penny replied, her voice sounding raspy and struggling. Clearly just walking from the bedroom to here had tired her out. Arthur moved out of the kitchen and lowered the glass of water in his hands, he just stood and watched as his mother turned stiffly and sank suddenly into the armchair. "And plus, you're needing to get ready for work. I didn't want to hold you up."

"Come on, you wouldn't." Arthur smiled, he ducked to the side and placed the glass down before strolling over and kneeling in front of the frail looking woman. She was still in her pyjamas, she seemed to spend every waking hour in them. A dressing gown which looked like it had seen better days, and was now a faded grey colour was wrapped around her thin body as she reclined back. "We've got to look after each other. I'm here for you, mom." Arthur said, reaching out and holding onto her bony hands. His weren't much better, but whereas most of his thin stature came from irregular food, and medication that leeched so much away, Penny's were from old age, being ravaged by time and her body slowly giving up.