Sunday, June 20, 2010

One From the Vaults

It was a mercy killing...

Dicking around in the depths of my harddrives, I found this little gem. I wrote this in 1998, while I was finishing up my culinary externship in Ann Arbor, MI. It was, in fact, three o'clock in the morning. It was foggy. Early spring. I lived in a big-arsed house with a bunch of other dudes across the street from the copshop, and was just learning how to operate as an adult (and failing miserably). God only knows what I was writing, probably some Star Wars fanfic or something that was only a thinly veiled copy of something by William Gibson. Anyway, here it is, unmolested, in all its over-written new writer glory. Enjoy.

Distraction creeps up to my window like a thief and knocks with quiet insistence. I try not to look up, knowing that if my eyes break contact with the unblinking eye of my monitor I will surely be lost. the knocking is louder now, with a sense of urgency that I simply cannot resist. My will is broken. Like a fool I look up and out of the window. He has me now. He gestures like a circus hawker at the wonders of the world revealed to me behind panes of glass. A car! There is a lovely car parked at the curb. Lights! Street lights float like tiny suns in the early morning mist. A tree! The tree in my front yard spreads its crooked, spidery fingers and reaches out to the orange-gray sky. Distraction rubs his thin, dry hands together and cackles a sound like rustling paper. I try vainly to return to the job at hand, then a car passes and I am gone again. Where could they be going at three am? Is someone hurt? Lonely? Hungry? I have but one recourse now. I must draw the blinds, turn off the lights, and be quit with this day.....but first...just one more look.


SpiralBound said...

Oh, wow! That is so putrid it deserves to be caligraphed and framed for instructional viewing on over writing! I don't know whether to thank you for sharing or demand those 30 seconds back! LOL! :-)

Jason Marker said...

Hahahahahahaha! You're the one who read it. I warned you, didn't I? No refunds.