Short Story...

I found this while talking to Marie on msn. Anyone remember nodoubtjunkie??


aha
she said it was good, i disagree.
I wrote it ages ago.

A social début.


Earl wakes.
This is the day.

He moves over to his dresser.
Just an average dresser.
Average lamp, average clock.
Earl fumbles the draw,
near knocking the lamp off.
He grabs a pen.
Scribbles on his palms.

Earl gets ready.
Entering the bathroom a distinct atmosphere is given.
Steamed mirror, humid.
Wipe the mirror.
After brushing his teeth counting,
123,123,back and 3, 123.
Earl proceeds to smile at the stranger of
a man looking back.
Of course its not Earl.
Just a previous version of himself.

Walking down the stairs,
heart rate accelerating,
increasing with every step.
He touches the bottom step when something hits.
Breathe. Breathe!
A gasp of closure.

Stepping into the kitchen he sees them.
Robots.
Droning away,
scooping,crunching, repeating.
He sits opposite these familiar drones.
Sigh.

Take it in.
Let it out.


The smell of orange juice lingers.
His heart alarmed at an unexpected occurrence.


Earl's hand twitch.
He catches a glimpse of his earlier scribblings.
He clasps his hands.

Earl has something to tell you Mr and Mrs Robot.
They give a simple noise,
a noise which indicates their desire for him to continue.

Movement of the lips.
Hand gestures.
No noise.

It doesn't matter Mr and Mrs Robot.
Earl has nothing to tell you.

Earl returns.
Like a humiliated outcast.
Like a dog with its tail in between its legs.

Earl opens his palms and reads the scribblings.
He read them another 2, maybe 3, times.
When a drop of salt liquid lands on them.

A deep intake of breath.

“If you are reading this, then you are a coward.”

Again he reads.
Knowing his eyes would meet these symbols.
Again knowing his head would end up in his hands.

Not today Mr and Mrs Robot.
Perhaps tomorrow.
Perhaps then Earl has something to tell you.​