REMOTE CONTROL
Prompt - Remote Control : Imagine you can fast forward and rewind your life with a remote control
She was on the telly. It had been a long day, a long week, and she'd fallen asleep on the sofa about eight. Woken hours later, gritty eyed and furry tongued, trying to figure out what had happened, what day it was. Then realising she'd drifted off in front of the TV. Couldn't recall what she'd been watching, but she'd turned the sound down so it can't have been up to much. What the hell was on the screen now?
It was her. It was her, looked at fairly close up, but shot, in her flat, just before she slept. How was that possible? There was nobody else here. Was there? She blinked a few times, rubbed her face, stretched her weary body, trying to come to, trying to make sense of the world. Got up, walked round. Nobody there. No camera could possible be at the angle she was being shown on the screen. She sat down again.
The images had moved on. Now she was asleep, curled up, wearing exactly what she had just woken up in, everything about her appearance suggesting this was footage from just a few hours ago. She sat back on the sofa, trying to figure out what was going on. Picked up the remote. Pressed FF, just to see what would happen, not expecting anything. But the images sped up, flacked through her time asleep, showed her waking up. She went back to normal speed, watched in fascination as she looked at the screen, bewildered. Looking round, bleary eyed. Rubbing her face, getting up to look around the room. It was only about five minutes behind her life in the real. She fast forwarded again.
It took her past her sitting there holding out the remote, to a more thoughtful moment, and then showed her getting up, going to get a notebook and pen, and coming back to the sofa. Which is exactly what she had been thinking of doing, needing to make notes to make sense of it all. She sped up, got to the next day, slowed a bit, saw herself having breakfast, going out to work. The lens always close by, always keeping her in shot, in focus, being the centre of the shot. She saw herself get through her day at work, come home and immediately place her bum back on the sofa, pick up the remote and frantically try to bring something to life. Her face showed the results to be a failure.
So did that mean she had only one shot at this, whatever it was? That this phenomenon was temporary, time limited, and wouldn't be there tomorrow? Or would it come back another day? She whizzed past chunks of her future (if that's what it was?) looking for any sign that she might be able to do this again, but it looked unlikely. A few days of trying to get it back, and then it was back to ordinary life. Nothing in the future there to get excited about. So what could she see of her past?
She set it to run backwards at maximum speed, chose a random point at which to stop. The screen showed her, a younger her, in the flat she used to share with Darren. They'd broken up about eighteen months ago. She still missed him, still hadn't really moved on, still wanted those days back. Maybe she could, for the next few hours...?
She watched the two of them together. Flicked about to see the best bits. The meals together. The nights out. The sex. Then there were the other bits. The arguments. The night he hit her. She didn't want to see those bits, skipped over. And then realised this was her chance. To be rid of him in her head too. So she made herself watch all the worst bits. Replayed the blow ten times. Replayed the arguments. Replayed her own miseries.
A cure? A rebalancing? A reminder of why? It gave her all those things, and helped her to let go. She whizzed forward a bit again, to when she moved into her little flat. The sadness of being alone again. The sadness and happiness of not being with him, of being able to control her own space. Making her own choices again.
Altered perspective. A chance to relive the past becoming a chance to live the future. She took herself off to bed.
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