Open Night

It was Open Night in the city and all the museums and cultural centres were opening late. Somewhere in a flat in the west of the city, Jasmine and her friend were preparing dinner and planning to step out later.

The flat was four floors up, reached only by a spindly, uneven staircase. They were setting the table while catching up on events in each other’s lives. Mirriam had hurt her hip and was off work. Her job as an aerobics instructor doing several hours of jumping about everyday had taken its toll.

Pale blue walls graced the dining cum living room. The sparse furniture, a cupboard with glass doors, an old coffee table with an equally old TV that could not receive digital broadcasts and a worn pine dining table and miss-matched chairs finished the ensemble.

A bowl of green leaves tossed with seeds and raisins, a dish of couscous and chili and bread, cheese, fruit and wine were laid out on the table. Nina Simone and Nat King Cole coming from the laptop in the bedroom next door almost sounded like a cliché.

Across town, by one of the great fountains that marked the city, Colin and Jennifer had rendezvoused as planned. She had a bottle of red wine, he a chilled bottle of wine. They had talked about seeing the light and music show by the fountain before catching a couple of exhibitions at the nearby museums.

Too many glasses later, it was evident that the only art they were going to discuss was how everything and everybody had taken on a quite unreal, even surreal quality. You could even say abstract, not unlike Edvard Munch’s paintings.

Jasmine and Mirriam left the flat some hours later. The latter hobbling and occasionally resting her hand on Jasmine’s shoulder. As they approached the fountain, they saw quite a few people already leaving. They asked a couple picnicking on one side of the fountain. He had a shock of red hair and an equally vibrant beard. She had long, dark, wavy hair. They both looked like they had had quite a few.

“It’s over now,” the woman said. “The museums are shutting and won’t let anyone in now.”
“What a shame!” Mirriam replied somewhat crestfallen. “We thought it was an all night event.”
“Yeah. Never mind. Next time,” piped the redhead.
“Thanks anyway,” Jasmine said as they walked off.

“We probably should call it a night. Great art eh?” Colin said to Jennifer. They both burst into laughter and started gathering their things.