Untitled (429 hits)
Category: GeneralRating: 0.85 on 8 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by r0fl (View user info) at 2006-06-09 22:05:57 EDT
The UV filtered light reflected off the family portrait. It was framed near his computer as the light both drew attention to his waiting family and annoyed him at the same time.
The portrait's position was cliché; he'd be the first to admit.
Harold picked up his pen after dropping it next to his right shoe. The blue-inked Bic pen was a lot like him: standard and conformed, but different enough to be noticed and picked out of a crowd.
His pen again began to flutter through and around his fingertips, a trick he picked up back in college to keep his mind busy during boring elective lectures.
The standard circular clock on the wall read 4:48 in Times New Roman.
Twelve minutes left in the workweek, he powered down his laptop and gathered his Thermos, still flushing lukewarm coffee about its base.
His Italian leather shoes slid across the cyan colored carpet as he navigated throughout the cubicles of his office building. He adjusted his tie, feigning an attempt at professionalism while attempting to duck out early - a character duality known only to those closest to him.
He nodded to Karen, one of the new receptionists charged with triaging any who ventured to their floor and needed directions within the concrete and glass structure he called home for forty hours a week.
Well, 39 hours and 49 minutes, if you're counting.
The elevator's bell signaled his descent to the lobby was complete.
He unloosened his tie and took in the city air, free from his corporate enslavement for the next two and a half days. The concrete steps to the parking garage were cold and rigid. He followed them down to the automobile catacombs. He signaled the alarm to rescind its clutches and allow him to enter his vehicle.
Harold's luxury coupe teetered over the amber painted speed bumps and entered traffic with a vigor rivaling that of college coeds escaping toward a spring break destination.
He lived a little more than a half hour out of the city, the commute mostly metropolitan driving until he reached the outskirts and could let the engine loose.
The classic rock station blared The Doors' "Break On Through," as he shouted in delight as the convertible's roof whined open.
He approached a yellow light with a long line of cars. The air immediately taken out of his rock-and-roll filled sails as quickly as it turned red.
The steering wheel slowly vibrated up and down as the power under the hood wasted at the red light. The radio-host segued seamlessly into a barrage of advertisements as the light ahead clicked green.
The cars ahead slowly sprung to life, unclotting the blockage of metal and rubber that Harold was indeed apart of. The excessive cars caused him to approach the light as it reddened again, giving Harold the lead when traffic flow resumed.
In the rear-view mirror a large SUV loomed and revved its engine.
His satellite radio play Coldplay's "Beautiful World."
The streetlight oscillated back and forth in the city's wind current, slowly turning green.
The brake lights in the cars behind him became extinguished but for a reason other than Harold's.
Something Harold wouldn't find out for almost another block.
He noticed the cars in the opposite lane not begin to drive again and in fact, remain stationary.
Most of the car's windows were up; the air-conditioning on. The shatterproof windows reflected anyone looking in, hiding the occupants.
The fourth car still stopped in the opposite lane did not have air conditioning, and Casey Williams, a waitress working a few blocks away, had the windows down.
Except Casey wasn't in her car.
Harold wanted to stop, but kept driving, nervously checking his surroundings for signs of life.
Abraham Carver has worked the corner hot dog stand for the past 17 years, Harold often frequenting his stand when he could duck out for a few minutes.
Abraham's tongs were on the sidewalk, a hotdog still clutched.
He didn't need to pull over. The convertible halted quickly as he slammed the brakes in the middle of the road. Nobody was coming.
He ran towards the stand itself; steam still escaping from the tin trays which house the hotdogs and sauerkraut.
He reached to retrieve the tongs on the sidewalk as a bead of sweat dribbled from his forehead onto his outstretched hand.
His mind raced as he placed the tongs onto the stand and gazed up at the sky.
It was cloudless.
He rounded the corner of the next street, more of the same. The lack of movement along the outstretched street was striking, the silence deafening. A street in the financial district, usually bustling with venders and consumers, lay silent.
Produce lay out in spectacular displays, ripe, delicious, lonely. Cars crouched idling, burping exhaust.
Harold reached for his cell phone, and dialed home. It began ringing. After 38 seconds, his wife's voicemail picked up. He dialed again.
Nothing.
His knees became weak, his stomach turned. Bending down on one knee, now in the middle of one of the busiest streets in the city flanking the double yellow line, he vomited.
He began to run, spanning countless blocks of the same surroundings.
A mixture of sweat and tears welled into his eyes, and Harold Cromwell collapsed.
Almost ten blocks later cutting relentlessly into the silence was Harold's convertible. Pink Floyd's "Us & Them" played not to deaf ears, but to no ears at all.
User Reviews
Submitted by Maltese (user info) at 2007-02-01 10:39:56 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Sockster (user info) at 2006-06-10 21:50:47 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
You have potential. But you tried too hard.
It comes easy when you don't try.
Submitted by tarnation (user info) at 2006-06-10 02:28:19 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
No Comment
Submitted by gonefiguring (user info) at 2006-06-09 23:23:57 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
-1 for "unloosened his tie", -1 for "The steering wheel slowly vibrated up and down as the power under the hood wasted at the red light." Yeeesh.
+2 for "The standard circular clock on the wall read 4:48 in Times New Roman" which is also bad but quite entertaining, and +1 for the idea of the story.
A good read, overall.
Submitted by extacy_red (user info) at 2006-06-09 23:20:30 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
If this isnt a series, wtf jsut happened,
If it is, write the next part fast i want more
Submitted by ghola (user info) at 2006-06-09 22:51:56 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
you obviously put effort into, but i just didn't like it.
if you were practicing writing more descriptively, you have done so. you may have gone a bit overboard.
it didn't flow well either.
happy friday.
Submitted by Amontillado (user info) at 2006-06-09 22:51:01 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Submitted by nephilim (user info) at 2006-06-09 22:09:48 (#)
Ranking: 1
I didn't read this, but the picture of the salt shaker lid looking thing was okay.
Not quite angelic, but okay.
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I do believe it's a green light.
Submitted by nephilim (user info) at 2006-06-09 22:09:48 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
I didn't read this, but the picture of the salt shaker lid looking thing was okay.
Not quite angelic, but okay.