Prologue1.0A Chapter by Sean ReignerTick Tick! Swung the eyes of time, Watching an imaginary tennis game. The empty pupils moving in opposition to an shiny plastic tail. The lonely sound echoed off of nothing. Nothing but for the man standing forlornly in the empty bachelor apartment. It just seemed right, This spot in the middle of the only room. Staring at the one thing hanging on the wall. Tick tick! Mocked the cat clock. As if to say; "Hey, Buddy! get a move on, Times a tickin'!" Ugh! how he hated this, This piece of crap clock. The only thing that was left. He had sold everything else. No one wanted it, probably have to pay someone to take it. Too bad, It was the only thing left that reminded him of Her. His eyes turned dark, Lip curled in resentment at the thought of HER. A knock at the door brought him out of his internal dialogue.
"Yeah?" He said, His voice echoed through the empty room. Making him Jump. The knock came again, A bit harder.
"Mr. Perkel, Are you in there? today is your last day. You uhhh gave notice!"
Tick Tick! The cat's eyes mocked. The mouth seemed to smile a little. He flipped his middle finger at the sliding eyes, And moved to the door. His body moving in a sad, droopy shuffle. The gait of an old man in a young man's body. "I know, I was there!" Jake Perkel, leaned his forehead against the door, It felt good, Cooling his temple. A wave of despair washed hotly through his body, A fever of fear. Fear of knowing he had no where to go. No one person to give him assurance. This he knew for certain. "Ok, well you have until 10 p.m." This followed by a curt silence. A knowing of; You better damn leave, If you know what's good for you!
"I'll be gone" Jake slumped a bit more. Gone is gone. Where and what is in the works. A fricken work in progress. The 4x4 was loaded with what was left of his worldy possession's. It had been languishing in the parking lot for a day now.
© 2017 Sean Reigner |
StatsAuthorSean ReignerMNAboutI'm a writer posing a truck driver. I want to bring that creative flow to the table. A feast of words that you could slowly devour and savor. Leaving you sated, And yet, Still crave more! more..Writing
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