Wednesday, April 18

Lack of Ideas leads to boring posts ...

As if you, my esteemed and valued readers, were not aware of this, especially at this blog. I have been living a boring life - trying to stay out of the spotlight for awhile I guess you could say. Nah, that don't sound right to me either, but it seems to be the course for right now.

It is Wednesday, and with all the free time that has been allotted to me during the course of my regular work hours, today I have a short excerpt I am working on. No name for it as of yet, and I am not sure where I am going with it, but the daydreams I get whilst sitting here at work and then typing them in sure come up with some really weird stuff. Must be something they put in the Coca Cola .... So without further delay, here is the Short Story for Wednesday.
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Morbid illusions drift like dark blue and red smoke intermingling across the abyss of my mind space. I feel it prodding and asking me questions just below my hearing level as I sleep. My eyes snap open and the shadows that have lunged close to hear the answers suddenly snap back into place: the lighting on the door frame; the shirt and skirt hanging on the closet door. My eyes roam across the room, as I prop myself upon my elbow. It’s early yet, not even 3:00am. I feel the sweat roll off the back of my ears, and down my neck. Sleep won’t be back for quite some time.

I close my eyes and lay back flat on my back. At least I didn’t wake up shouting as I usually do, and the wife is still asleep. What was the voice saying? I try to bring back the moment in picture in my mind, but it is still slipping from my memory. There will be no capturing it tonight. Tomorrow I can try again, if it shows up.

I drift off to sleep, scenes of moral or ethical issues racing across the mind’s eye. Again that voice just out of hearing… “And this? React to this one by …” It’s like instruction given subliminally. Is it trying to change me… and if so, change in a good way, or a worse way? Before I have a chance to worry about it everything goes dark.

“What ya gonna do now you mother fucker?!” Eyes snap open. I am standing a few yards from a corner of a building. A white man, about my size is standing about 5 feet in front of me waving a pistol at my head. A pistol? Where am I? “Hold still before I decide to just end your fucking life, you sonuvabitch!” Saliva is dripping from his mouth. I see a body on the ground already, and I wonder if it is someone I know or not.

“Chill out dude. I ain’t got nothing to do with you,” I try to calmly explain. Keep him from shooting was my ultimate goal. “I don’t know what is going on here, but we can go our own ways. Just put down the gun and walk.” I have my hand s up partway, trying to help show him the direction to put the gun. There’s some blood on my knuckles I notice. Can’t tell if it is mine or not.

“YOU’RE FUCKING CRAZY! You beat the shit out of my buddy and I am going to waste your ass now!!” Again the gun comes up waving, pointing occasionally towards my head. I step back a couple steps “Where you going? You ain’t going no where! We going to finish this!!” Saliva flies from his lips and he begins to step nearer to me. I take the chance and look down.

Sure enough, another male of similar build is laying face down on the sidewalk, sprawled out. I see from the side of his face that is upwards, there is some blood from the nose and mouth. I glance at my knuckles again. Could be. I see my wallet on the ground. At least it looks like my wallet.

“You and your buddy trying to rob me man? You want the money? I will give you the money. Just put that gun down.” The man just eyes me wildly, and the gun is not going anywhere but hanging in an elliptical orbit his hand is doing of its own accord.. I start to bend down to pick up the wallet and the guy steps forward and presses the gun to my forehead.

It is dark. No, not quite pitch black, I can feel more than see, some smoke weaves across the space in front of me. I reach out my hand and feel nothing. No change in temperature, or sensation of touch. Are my eyes open. I think so, but I could not be sure. I reach for a pocket, but realize I have nothing on. Straining my ears, I hope for a sound of something, be it a scuffle from me, or a drip of moisture – something to put a limit to my boundaries. There it is! The whispers have come back. You can here the ss sss sss sounds but they are just low enough I still cannot make out what is being said, or asked, or explained. I feel the smoke wrap sinuously around me, giving the look of being clothed, but no one has presented them selves to me.

A flash goes through my mind. The man holding a gun to my head, as I am slightly stooped over reaching for the wallet on the ground – frozen in place.

How does it feel?

I swear I heard the voice, but there was not physical ness to the sound. Almost as if I heard it directly in my head. I am not sure anymore. “How does what feel?” I ask aloud, my voice seemingly to fill the area, and yet sound tiny.

To die. To die, for nothing.

I start to feel my breathing starting to speed up. I think it might be a panic attack, but am not sure. I never had had one before. Am I dead? I rub my hands on my forehead, over the spot where the gun seemed to be held – nothing. I feel my chest and arms – no wounds. I see no blood anywhere, or scratches. Did I die? Was it for nothing?

The scene again flashes through my mind, only this time it is going about 2x fast forward. I see my hand grab the wallet, which flips open to reveal a couple one-dollar bills, and a loud roar as the gun went off – then darkness.

Heh heh heh….

I say nothing, but work on controlling my breathing. Slowly I get it back under control, but the voice doesn’t speak anymore. Time seems to have no limit here, and there is no feeling of standing too long, or hunger. Just a sense of being there, waiting for something.

To die … for nothing.

The scene again flashes through my mind, only this time it is going about 2x fast forward. I see my hand grab the wallet, then flip it off to the side. The eyes of the gun holder follow it. I reach up with my left and grab the gun hand, twist and remove the pistol from his grip. His eyes have turned back to match mine. I stick the barrel against his forehead, just above his eyes. His eyes. Red rimmed, watering, pupils dilated to nothing. His breathing started getting raggedly as if he had been running.

For nothing …

The eyes. I could see inside him. See his fear, what he had thought was power; what he had hoped he could do to me. My insides turned to ice. I pulled the trigger.

Click. I pull it again. Click. The once-attacker gasps then starts to back away, turning to his side to start running for his freedom. Click. I lower my arm. Sirens erupt around me as police cars come careening to a halt. I hear several voices yelling to drop the weapon, but I have no idea what they are talking about. What weapon? I hear another voice saying to raise my hands, which I do, and shots ring out. I feel the body twist in different directions, and amidst splashes of red feel myself fall to the ground.

To die … for nothing.

“Holy shit! I’ve been – “ I snapped upright in the darkness. My heart is beating like to come out of my chest. Sweat is rolling from my brow. A quick glance all around confirms I am in my bedroom, and it is barely 3:25am. The wife is still asleep. I sigh, and use one hand to wipe the sweat away from my eyes. ‘What is up with these freaky-ass dreams?’ I wonder to myself… knowing I will never have an answer. Then there in the back of my mind I hear that voice again “To die … for nothing.” I don’t have time for this crap to psycho-analyze some damn dream I am having, that doesn’t last but like 20 minutes, but feels like forever. I get up and head for the bathroom. I quick cup of water, and I head back to bed, quickly closing my eyes, and trying to clear my head. I feel myself slowly slide off to slumber.

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