You enter the club, inhaling the scent you
missed so much: cigarettes, alcohol, perfume, sweat, all blending together in
an intoxicating cocktail. The music is blasting in the speakers and the strong
base is making the ground shake. You are heading towards the bar when you are
grabbed and pushed on the dance floor.
“Dance with me, beau…”, the guy says, trying
to make a move on you.
“Get lost!”, you shriek with a bitter look
on your face, not letting him finish, while slapping his hand away. “I didn’t
give you permission to touch me, did I??”
He ignores your request, reaching for you
again. You dodge his hand, move a step closer and firmly squeeze his crotch, tightening
you hold to the maximum. The young man tries to push you away but he can’t:
it’s not the first time you’re doing this. He whimpers in pain, hitting your
arm. You won’t let go. “You were just leaving, right?”, you smirk, finally
releasing your grip. The guy bends over, covering his probably already bruised
pride and slides down the glass wall, squinting his eyes in pain.
The Joker is upstairs in the VIP lounge,
watching everything that’s going on in his club from behind the smoky windows.
He suddenly starts laughing maniacally, crossing his legs. “Auch, I bet that
hurt!”. Frost is glancing out there too, trying to see what amused his boss so
much. “Frosty, who’s the girl with the lacy yellow dress and bright red hair?” J
points out with his cane in the crowd.
“Ahh,” Frost answers when his eyes find
you. “That’s Miss Y/N,sir.”
“That’s Y/N?!” the Joker grins. “We’ve
been doing business with her for a while…Maybe I shouldn’t let you take care of
things so much, Frost. I’m missing on opportunities to meet…” he pauses, biting
his lower lip “…new people.”
“Of course, boss” Frost smiles, nodding
his head in agreement.
passes his fingers through his green hair, holding it in place for a few
moments, watching you take a sit at the bar and order a drink. “Tell her
everything she wants is on the house.”
“Yes, sir” Frost replies, already on the
You start sipping on your whiskey when the
bartender leans towards you: ”Everything on the house tonight, miss.”
“What? Why?…” you ask, surprised.
The bartender points towards the VIP lounge. “Boss
“Oh, he’s here?” you lift your glass
towards the smoky windows and mutter “Thank you”. You hope he saw it.
You end the conversation on your cell
phone, debating on what to do with the information you just got. After a few moments you decide, so you take
your drink and you head towards the stairs. Up to the VIP lounge you go.
“Hi, Frost”, you snicker, seeing he’s
already coming for you.
“Hello, miss Y/N, it’s been a while". You
take his arm as he leads you upstairs. The heavy security moves out of your way.
“Can I see Mister J?”
“He’s already expecting you, Miss Y/N.”
Frost parts the gold beads for you and stays behind.
You enter the luxurious room and your eyes
rest on the green haired man sitting on the velvet couch. His white shirt is
unbuttoned almost all the way down and you can see a lot of tattoos on his
pale, toned body.
doll,” he grins at you, revealing his silver grill, “we finally meet.”
“Mister J, it’s a pleasure”, you reply
with a flirtatious tone, continuing to analyze him.
“Kitten, turn around, let me see you.” You giggle, slowly spinning on your high
hills, taking a sip of your whiskey as you face the Joker again.
“Prettttyyyy…” he purrs, gesturing you to
come sit on the couch.
You take two steps towards him when your
favorite song starts blasting in the club. “Mmmm, I love this song,” you sigh,
closing your eyes, starting to swing your hips to the beat.
“Mister J, dance with me,” you plead,
finally putting your drink down on the mahogany table nearby. The Joker catches
the serious look that lingers on your face for just a few seconds. He is a bit intrigued;
he senses something is not quite right. Nevertheless, he gets off the couch and
comes to meet you in the middle of the lounge. His eyes narrow, and before he
finds himself in front of you, you hear his warning:
“I don’t like games, baby doll. Are you
going to tell me what the deal is? Or do I have to make you?”
You immediately drop your fake bimbo act, completely
changing your demeanor and tone of voice: “The SWAT team will raid this place
soon, looking for you. I’d say you have about 10 minutes left.”
“Hmmm…” that’s all you hear before you get
pushed out of the away and he heads towards the exit. He suddenly stops in
front of the door, keeping it open.
“Are you coming?”
He’s speeding like a lunatic on the
streets of Gotham, almost hitting cars and people a few times. That seems to
amuse immensely, he can’t stop laughing.
What a strange, interesting man, you think to yourself, opening your
side window so you can feel the wind in your hair.
“Don’t worry, doll, I’ll tell Frosty to
drop your car at your place tomorrow. Where do you live?”
“It’s OK, Mister J, I’ll steal another one.
Not very fond of the color of my current one anyway. I really love your purple
Lamborghini”, you turn towards him, just to meet his intense, blue gaze. Why
the hell isn’t he watching the road?
“Where…do…you…live?” he insists, pausing
after each word, taking his hands off the wheel.
“Umm..” you try to concentrate, pulling
down on your short dress, “ Silver Meadows Hill.”
“Fancy place”, he grins, with a sinister
smile on his face. “Do they know what you do for a living?” Hands on the wheel again, good.
think I’m a dentist,” you confess, amused at the fact that this is very
entertaining for him. He laughs again.
“Well, actually I am a dentist; I went to
school for that and I have a degree. It’s the perfect cover up.”
and smart, I’m impressed,” the Joker winks and for some reason you fell your
cheeks getting warm. That’s weird, you never blush. “Want me to take you home?”
he suddenly offers, yanking the wheel and running over the curve.
“No, not yet, I want to party some more. It’s
my birthday today.” You don’t even know why you told him. That was stupid.
be damned, doll; we really need to party then. How young?” he asks, interested.
“Ahhh,26, a good time to be alive,” he slams
the breaks right in the middle of Gotham bridge. Holly crap, is he entirely
crazy? You sure hope so. He’s definitely not boring.
“Here, for you” he says, reaching for the
glove compartment while leaning on your legs for support. You feel awkward but
you resist the urge to kick him in the face like you normally would if some
other guy would be doing this to you. He pulls out a box and leaves it in your
lap, starting to drive again.
“Are you sure?” you ask, uncertain,
“Yeah, yeah, I have another one, all
yours”, J confirms, accelerating. You take out the beautiful gun that’s been
personalized with diamonds and the Joker’s trademark clown face.
“Wow, this is beautiful, thank you,
Mister J”. Your heart is pounding, you love guns so much. You can tell this is
an exquisite one just by holding it.
“No problem, doll, I have to repay you
somehow, right? How much money do you want?”
“Oh, no money, Mister J, I don’t need
pay for the information this time. But I definitely want this,” you chuckle,
waving the pistol at him. He smirks, lifting his shoulders. “That’s fine,Y/N, I
told you it’s yours. Oh, we’re getting there,” he raises his voice, excited.
“Where are we going, Mister J?”
“To celebrate!”, he replies, grinning
his silver teeth at you. For some reason your mouth opens and you ask: “How old
are you, Mister J?”
“HA,HA,HA,HA!” his sinister laughter
resonates in the car. “How old do you think I am, baby doll?”
“Thirty…four?” you try to guess, but the
truth is you find it hard to estimate.
“Close enough,” the Joker smiles,
scrunching his face like he heard the cutest thing ever. “ I saw what you did
to that guy in the club,” he changes the subject and you get the hint.
“Well,” you say, licking your lips, “I
don’t like men to touch me without my permission.”
“I touched you,” he replies and you can’t
help but feel a bit of cockiness mixed with pride in his voice. “Does it mean I
have your permission?” His eyes widen, waiting for the answer.
How can you hold an image in your mind? To see To feel To touch To find yourself lost in the glittering illusion that gives credence to the parlance of emotion? You spell it out, Folding it Rolling it Wrapping it Tight, and tighter still about My cerebellum, until I can taste the flavor of ink that drips from the font of your pen. How can I offer thanks for the lover and friend that has thrown words into My face Slashing them Screaming them Impaling them Into the darkest parts of My measured mind, sliding them unaware under the door to taunt? Handing them out like candy to tease Me until I, in turn, answer in kind. To
fall into the vortex of languages spell, drifting along the hidden
currents that sparks wildfires in the core of creative intuition. Flung
high..battered and beaten against the walls that fight to hold you
down, and rebelling with each soul dripping splatter of venom that marks
your mouth. Or sent running over moon drenched meadows , silvers and gilded, laughing Crying Sighing Until
the words fade from the screen, only to find they have been left in
burning marks on the insight that was given, the window to a soul opened
for a tiny glance into dreams Given freely
Working in the Vicinity of Narrative: Todd Hido and Darius Himes
Artist Todd Hido discusses his work and his latest monograph, Excerpts from Silver Meadows (Nazraeli, 2013), with gallerist, lecturer, writer and editor Darius Himes. Named for a street in the Ohio neighborhood where the artist grew up, Excerpts looks back on Hido’s upbringing and his dawning awareness of “the darker aspects of life beyond.
SS: It was great, making everypony smile. I even got to experiment a bit I think that was when I earned my mark. Meadow started helping, too, when I decided to stay ‘til close. He was the first to notice it.
Red velvet raspberry swirl. My first original recipe, and where it all fell into place. I owe Miss Romancedy a huge thank-you, I think.
And so ends Silver’s Cutie Mark Story! Yay! *blows noisemakers*
Todd Hido infuses inanimate objects with more humanity than he finds and reveals in the living women he photographs. What if he looked at a woman and considered that she might be nearly as interesting and complex as a broken chair?