#4 Overheard

The stairwell was dark, and all he could focus on was his heavy breathing. His heart raced faster than it had ever gone in his entire life, something he knew with certainty due to the heart rate monitoring watch he’d bought on a whim. He desperately tried to calm down, but how could he? He was about to die.

Up until one hour ago, he lived in a world where each day seemed to only get better than the last. He was 30 years old, had a wife who adored him, two children who were just old enough to be sweet and happy (but not quite old enough to cause heavy parental strife), and he had his job. His career was everything – so many years spent training with the older masters of the art, and so few precious months of being on his own. But he was doing well, building a name for himself in the industry, and until 1 hour prior, life was perfect.

“Yea, we’ll meet on that Thursday”, he told her with a smile. She looked across his desk and returned the gesture of friendship. She had just agreed to become his biggest client, and given his reputation as the rising star, she was not in the least bit worried.  She got up to leave, they shook hands, and she walked out. He walked around the desk and closed the door to his office. It was as he was drinking his soda he noticed the book.

It was a smallish, leather bound collection of less than 50 pages. It seemed, at a glance, like a small notebook, until one noticed the true age of it. The tattered pages revealed brown, oxidized ink. Elaborate penmanship, and a language he hadn’t seen before. It had, evidently, slipped from her bag as she rose up from the chair. He thought to call her immediately back to retrieve it, but with the meeting only a few days away, he turned his attention to other matters, she would get it back soon, and he could just pretend he hadn’t noticed it until later in the day.

A half hour passed uneventfully, until he heard the voices. The tinny sound of a familiar language, his own, echoed from where the book lie not more than 20 feet away. He walked over toward it, and discovered, to his surprise, a small speaker grill on the inside back cover of the book. It appeared to be something straight out of a spy shop, and the voices on the other end were hard to make out. He stood by the book for a moment, and contemplated his options. Listen to the voices now, or go back to work and leave them in peace.

30 minutes later, as he stood in that stairwell, he would wonder how he could have made the wrong choice in that moment. He had always followed his conscience in life, never done anything ‘bad’, ‘evil’ or even ‘disreputable’. He had earned all that he had, and over the last 30 minutes, he had destroyed all of that through nothing but simple listening.

The voices spoke of a plan, one sinister enough that he could scarcely believe his ears. She had returned through his office door at just the moment to see him lift the book up to his ear. She reached into her pocket and took out her phone, pressing a button on the side. Within moments he could see them approaching the front door, two floors below. She tried to stop him, but he ran, and hid.

And now he was losing it all. They would find him soon, it was only a matter of time in a building that size. There were no exits, no doors out, no windows safe to jump from, no magic helicopter on the roof that would take him away. This was reality, this was the way it would all turn out for him. 30 years. A family. Friends. A Future. All gone in a heart beat.

They found him 2 days later, the cause of death was easy to determine. Despite his young age, his heart had spiraled out of control. The woman and her associates were at his funeral, they paid their respects, and they left with not a single one speaking to the widow or children. It was unfortunate that he passed only part of the test. Everybody listens, but only a few are found to be trustworthy. It was a pity – his act of flight proved that he could make the quick decisions. If only his heart were in it, he would be starting his first assignment next week. It would have meant a comfortable life for him, his family, and even friends if he so chose – no sane person could ever refuse the offer they could have made. In the end he could have saved thousands, if he had only saved himself from what he had heard.

[SSDay]

#3 The General

The General wears lifts, his power projects
he strides wherever he wants

The General plays it cool, straight, direct
he strives to be nonchalant

The General smirks at others, respect he commands
he’ll strike you down with information and wit

The General hides his insecurities, his worries, his fear
but his perfectionism won’t stop him a bit.

[SSDay]

#2 Freezing

“Watch tonight, I’ll be freezing”, said the lady as she walked into the cafe. She was just starting her shift, doomed to repeat an eight to ten hour cycle that she had done countless times before. She would prepare the same things, for the same people, for nearly the same price, and receive the same lack of respect for her position behind the counter, taking orders from the big shots and unimpressed, as they stared at her over their iPhones and Macbooks.

“It’s warm now, but it’ll cool off”, the lady continued as she observed her co-worker, Rob, rap to himself as he pushed the broom across the floor. She was speaking to no one in particular, for no reason. She found herself doing that more and more as of late, as she slipped into the midlife minutia she seemed destined to stay in for her entire existence. She’d be working this job today, tomorrow, and forever until either she won the lottery (there was always hope), the store closed (there was always fear), or the man of her dreams swept her off her feet and out of this life (there was always the impossible). For now she consoled herself as she went about her work – 8 more hours, 7.5 more hours, 6 more hours, 5 more hours.

“I told you it was going to turn colder” she said to Rob, as the snow began to fall outside the windows of the cafe. She’d be walking home in it, the five blocks to her apartment in the Bronx, on this cold February night. She’d lived there for 10 years, in the same small apartment as her sister had lived in, until her sister passed. She had only a few friends who might come visit, and none of them were the type to volunteer to walk home with her tonight in the impending chill. 3 more hours… 2 more hours.

“Did it stop? No, it’s still going” she said in a sad, resigned voice. Her entire life could be summed up on the walk tonight, she thought as she ate her free meal. Aside from the meals she got while working at the cafe, she rarely ate. This was by choice. Eating without anyone to share it was somewhat boring and only reminded her that she lived much of her existence alone. But in an hour she’d be walking, and in a little over an hour she’d be home. She would make it through tonight, just as she had every other night.

“The handle is cold!” she exclaimed as she locked the door to the cafe. Most employees weren’t trusted with the keys, but when you’re stuck in a job for 15 years, and will likely be there 30 more, they start to believe in your honesty, to an extent. Rob wandered off to the subway as she began walking toward home. True to her thoughts earlier in the day, she felt the cold on her skin, her breath emanating in front of her. It was about 3 blocks from the cafe that she saw the eyes watching her. She heard the rustle from the alley, and turned just in time to see him approach.

“No….” she managed to squeak as he inched toward her, tall and imposing, cloaked in tattered clothes and coats. She turned to run, but slipped on the icy sidewalk. She was laying there, helpless as he approached. She couldn’t say a word, the chill of the weather and her fear kept her silent. As he stood over her, he brought up his gnarled, dirty hand.

“It’s cold”, he said, as he opened his palm to help her up. He righted her, and looked into her eyes. “Hungry” he said, as he backed away and held out his hand.

In that moment she thought about her life, her sorrows, and her worries. Her day of problems, her moments of fear, her self-loathing, all washed away as she considered the man in front of her. As she stood there, wondering what her next move should be, she found herself overcome. As he watched, tonight, she was freezing.

[SSDay]

#1 Bob the Turtle & Jim The Bunny

It’s been a pretty stressful month for me, so to release, I figure I should start a new creative writing project called A Short Story a Day. Today’s short story is a bit whimsical (and uses a bit of ‘strong’ language, so reader discretion is advised) and is my start on this journey. Let’s see if I can make it to my end goal, which I will keep to myself!

Bob the Turtle & Jim The Bunny

 

Once upon a time there was a turtle named Bob. Bob decided to go for a walk one day, and unfortunately toppled himself onto his hard shell back. Bob was helpless, but fortunately spied his friend Jim the bunny.

 

“Jim, help me get flipped back over”, cried Bob.

 

“You got the 5 bucks you owe me Bob?”, replied Jim.

 

“Damnit Jim, I told you, I’m not paying you back that $5 – you told me lunch was on you!”, retorted the upsided-down Bob.

 

“Whoa – not on your life you lying green reptile bastard! I told you I’d give you $5 for a soda and fries, and you said you’d pay me back”, said Jim.

 

“Can’t we talk about this after I can see you right-side up?”, asked Bob.

 

“Hell no!”, replied Jim, “You gonna give me that $5 or are you going to stay upside down?”.

 

Bob thought about this for a moment. Disregarding the fact that Jim had clearly given him the $5 during lunch time yesterday, and disregarding the fact that Jim was being a real prick about this, seeing that Bob was upside down and all, Bob decided to capitulate.

 

“Fine jackass, flip me and I’ll give you the $5”, replied Bob.

 

Jim came over and head-butted Bob back onto his feet. Bob fished out a €5 note and gave it to Jim.

 

“What the hell is this Bob? I said $5, not this funny European paper”, replied Jim.

 

“It’s all I got! And it’s worth more than $5 you dummy”, said Bob.

 

“But now I gotta go to the bank and exchange it – they don’t take Euros down at Bunnymart you ass”, said Jim as he hopped away.

 

The End