The Room and the Radio

"The emotions of man are stirred more quickly than Man's intelligence... it is much more easy to have sympathy with suffering than it is to have sympathy with thought."
Oscar Wilde - The Soul of Man Under Socialism

When the radio sprang to life, exactly on cue at 7.06 sharp, the shape beneath the sheet shuddered, extended an arm to quiet the noise and in failing, rolled to face the wall and pulled a pillow over its head.

That morning the radio moved neatly between two stories. The first concerned the death of a member of the royal family, the second applauded the work of a young genetic scientist; It is said that his discoveries will radicalise current thought within the world of genetics and can only lead to a future of bright and wonderful things for mankind the radio said.

By the time the death story had swung round again (precisely 3 minutes later) the shape had emerged from beneath the sheets, was now recognisable as a woman in her mid forties, and had pulled itself into a sitting position from which it could hear the voice of a member of the public rushing emotionally from the radio's speaker: I don't believe it personally myself. She were one of us weren't she.

One of us... Echoed the woman beneath the sheet as if chewing the sentence over. She called out her husband's name, which was John, but no reply came.

This song is for her the radio continued, and for her memory. A song immediately sprang forth and had only wound through two or three bars before the woman beneath the sheets recognised it.

Oh, this was her favorite song! she thought and although she still couldn't quite picture the dead woman's face, tears began to well in her eyes. She thought of the first time she had heard the song. She had been on a beach in Majorca, some time in the summer of '85 or '86. The Sun had set and turned the world a wonderful shade of pink and then everything had dissolved to shadows and disappeared quietly into the night. Oh, she'll never see a sunset like that again she thought as she wiped her eyes.

As the song came to an end she swung her legs out of the bed and padded out onto the landing just as the story of the young scientist reappeared to play to the empty room.

Moments later and whistling the cheery theme tune from a TV show, her husband entered the bedroom and began to dress for work. The story of the scientist was drowned by his whistle but then he heard something that made him stop.

As he listened to the story of the dead woman from the royal family he thought of his parents and of how he hadn't called them in such a long time and he was stuck suddenly with a sense of their mortality. I'll call them tonight he thought. And a slow song began to play over which recordings of distraught voices had been positioned.

Am C
I don't believe it

G
Although she were rich and that, it ain't fair like what they done

Am C G
I can totally identify with her life and that like

As the song came to an end his wife appeared in the doorway. She had been crying so hard that her mascara had run all down her face. They embraced in the doorway just as the story of the young scientist returned.

I know he said, it's just too sad.

Why is the world such a cruel and unforgiving place she asked.

Nothing can ever be the same now he said.

The tragedy is that I still don't remember her face she said.

If you really think about what can be achieved with this the young scientist's voice projected nervously from the radio, it's almost too exciting.

Oh turn that off she said.