Paranoia was running rampant as Ian walked the six blocks to his mid-city condo. He glanced over his shoulder one last time before entering the front door. What was he expecting? Just need to sleep he told himself again. He made his way to the elevator beginning to relax slightly and pushed the up button. A pang of anxiety stirred as the lights above the elevator doors began to light in reverse order. 15, 14, 12, 11, 10, 9, 8 - Ian felt the bead of sweat forming on his brow - 7, 6, 5 - the fight or flight response was lining up at the starting line - 4 - relax - 3, 2 - can't stand it! Ian bolted down the hall and fell around the corner as the elevator doors opened.
He peeked around the corner still on his knees. The hall was empty. "I ought to be committed." he told himself as he stood up and collected his bag. "What an idiot I am!" He quickly moved backed to the elevator, pressed the up button and waited on the doors to open once again not noticing the pair of red eyes watching him down the hall.
When Ian woke up, he felt oddly refreshed with the memory of the previous day pushed deep into the back of his mind. Wait! The next day? He started to panic as he flung around to find the clock on the side table. There it was on the floor, he must have knocked it over in his sleep: 5:32AM. Whew! Not late. He wasn't sure if being late was conducive to keeping his job these days. He sauntered out of bed and headed to the shower to freshen up. Today is going to be a good day, he told himself. A good day.
That morning was just as good as he had hoped. The water in the shower was warm enough, his clothes were wrinkle free and his toast was cooked perfectly. He had even found a jar of homemade strawberry jam he had bought in the summer at the farmer's market. Ian was a few minutes early for the bus and that cute lady from the third floor had smiled at him on the elevator. All in my head, he had finally convinced himself it was all in his head. He had just needed sleep and now he was normal again. If only he knew how wrong he was!
Monday, December 14, 2009
Thursday, December 10, 2009
The Stew Pot - Part 1
Ian had to do a double take. Did he really just see that, no not possible. He was a sane man and it was the middle of the afternoon. Curiosity was waking from its slumber in his mind as he slowly walked the hundred yards or so towards the park bench. A glance to the left revealed the expanse of the dog park with a dozen dogs and their owners playing frisbee or just doing dog things. A slow pan now to the right. A grove of trees, some underbrush, the fence separating the park from Central Avenue.
It had been sitting there on the bench like a person, but how could a rabbit get that big? And what was that in it's mouth? His first impression was that it was a poodle. A red poodle? Blood maybe? OK, get a grip idiot, there are no giant bunnies eating poodles in the park. Must have been the stress. The new boss, Mr. Worthington, had only been in charge for a week, but had already amassed a year's worth of hatred from his employees. He had been forced to work late on the new ad campaign. "Be a team player. The road to the top is paved with hard work." The mantras were beginning to seem like a war-chant.
Evidence, he needed the evidence. What is that? A little drop of red barely visible against the blue of the metal bench. He slowly placed his pinky finger into the droplet and slipped it into his mouth. As he tasted the salty flavor of blood, he realized how strange he must look there hunched over the park bench with his finger in his mouth. "Just like in the movies" he mused. Could it have been real? Was he losing his grip on reality? Had Lucy thrown her diamonds into his sky? Not possible, just not possible!
His trance was suddenly broken by the shrill high pitched voice emanating from behind him. "FIFI, oh FIFI, where are youuuuuu?" The woman anxiously walking down the sidewalk reminded Ian of Mrs. Howell from Gilligan's Island and with that leash in her hand ... a shiver flew up Ian's back so fast he trembled noticeably. Need sleep! Ian turned and tried not to run as he headed home. Sleep was what he needed and damn the boss.
to be continued ...
It had been sitting there on the bench like a person, but how could a rabbit get that big? And what was that in it's mouth? His first impression was that it was a poodle. A red poodle? Blood maybe? OK, get a grip idiot, there are no giant bunnies eating poodles in the park. Must have been the stress. The new boss, Mr. Worthington, had only been in charge for a week, but had already amassed a year's worth of hatred from his employees. He had been forced to work late on the new ad campaign. "Be a team player. The road to the top is paved with hard work." The mantras were beginning to seem like a war-chant.
Evidence, he needed the evidence. What is that? A little drop of red barely visible against the blue of the metal bench. He slowly placed his pinky finger into the droplet and slipped it into his mouth. As he tasted the salty flavor of blood, he realized how strange he must look there hunched over the park bench with his finger in his mouth. "Just like in the movies" he mused. Could it have been real? Was he losing his grip on reality? Had Lucy thrown her diamonds into his sky? Not possible, just not possible!
His trance was suddenly broken by the shrill high pitched voice emanating from behind him. "FIFI, oh FIFI, where are youuuuuu?" The woman anxiously walking down the sidewalk reminded Ian of Mrs. Howell from Gilligan's Island and with that leash in her hand ... a shiver flew up Ian's back so fast he trembled noticeably. Need sleep! Ian turned and tried not to run as he headed home. Sleep was what he needed and damn the boss.
to be continued ...
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