From “Snapshots”, a book of monologues currently being written

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His face was like a national anthem. Always had that pride thing going on. Especially when he reached his late thirties but he’d still spit down the centre of stairwells just to watch that little line of silver pirouette to the ground. He loved it. That satisfying pancake sound as it slapped the tiles three or four floors below. He could spit through the gap in his teeth, even though he spent thousands trying to get them sorted. I never even imagined that he could get upset. That he could be sat in tears. Didn’t even think he worried about things. He always seemed so confident. Always had that sales thing running through him, even after work. That competitive streak. Like he was born with it. Like it was concentrated in his blood. Always seemed so sure of himself . . .

He told me that he had over a hundred compilation albums. All Best Ofs & greatest hits. Always blasting them out of the car. You could never talk to him when he was driving. Well you could but he’d never hear you. It was too loud and that bass. Made you wanna shit. I always thought that he left her. I’m sure that’s what he said. I always got the impression that he was glad to get rid of her. I never knew he waited by the phone, hoping we’d call him up. Invite him out. I never knew that. I always thought he had something else planned. Like he’d met some girl in a club and he was off . . y’know . . Take her out somewhere, buy her some food, get her drunk, tempt her back to his flat. After the divorce he bought this studio apartment right in the city centre. I never saw it but he pointed it out from the office though and from what he told us, it seemed pretty good. He said it was the most expensive piece of jewellery he owned.

I never knew that he felt he couldn’t phone us. I never knew that. In his note he said that the phone was like lead. Or that it burnt his fingers when he tried to dial. That we’d say “No” and he’d be all mad at himself for asking. I never realised he was so messed up. I really wish I could’ve helped him. I really wish I could’ve been there.

Poor bastard. Fucking good salesman though.