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Post by ASGetty ((Zovo)) on Nov 1, 2011 14:26:59 GMT -5
Note to Self: Write what you know.
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Post by ASGetty ((Zovo)) on Nov 5, 2011 17:08:11 GMT -5
Nathaniel Ward cinched the knot in his shoelaces and looked around for his other shoe.. The room was still mostly dark this early in the morning, the sun having yet shook off the shackles of it’s nightly slumber. His hand searched fruitlessly across the floor for a moment in the darkness before finally touching the left shoe hidden half beneath the bed, he snatched it up quickly as though it might escape should he give it the chance. The bright red digital display on his alarm clock read 5:29 AM as he pulled the well-worn canvas over his foot and began tying the laces.
5:30 AM
The alarm screeched its pseudo-mechanical wail into the crisp morning. Nathan ignored it. He’d been awake for hours already but felt a little bit bad for the screaming device on his nightstand. Few things in Nathan’s life were so objectively useless. He’d purchase the little clock a couple years ago, after he’d moved out of his parents house to ensure he wouldn’t be late to work without his mother pounding on the bedroom door rousing him from slumber. The number of times the clock had actually served to wake him up in those past years could be counted on two hand; probably in the first couple of weeks away from home. Before the insomnia claimed him and robbed him of everything good about sleep.
He waited a few more moments, allowing the the clock to get it all out. All the frustration of a pointless existence vented into red-tinted darkness.
“Turn it off!” the words came through the wall muffled and slurred accompanied by furious pounding from the adjacent room.
Nathan smiled to himself; purpose served. He flicked the switch on the alarm clock, allowing the silence of the infant day to reign once more, and stood up satisfied. Grabbing his coat off the back of a chair he made his way to the bedroom door glancing only briefly out the window at the slowly greying dawn. Bound to be another beautiful, sunless October day in the Pacific Northwest.
Passing through the doorway and down the hall he stopped halfway at Casey’s door. “Dude.” He knocked. “We’re gonna be late to work.”
Silence.
“Case, c’mon.” He knocked again, more heavily.
“Fuck off.” Something thumped lightly against the door from the other side.
Casey had been his roommate for almost two years now. When they’d first moved into their little two bedroom apartment, Casey had made a point of turning into party central. People came and went at seemingly random intervals at all hours of the day and night; most Nathan knew from school or work. Some he didn’t. It was always loud, often smelled of alcohol and required constant maintenance to keep the place clean.
Casey did the bulk of the partying. He was like that, feeding off the energy of the crowd. To Casey a good Friday was standing room only in his own kitchen. Didn’t matter what was happening so long as there were a lot of people involved. Nathan didn’t care, really, so long as his room and his stuff survived the encounters unmolested which had never been a problem.
The problems began when Casey could no longer pull himself out of bed in the morning, or wake up still too intoxicated to drive. One of the things which made Casey’s behavior tolerable was that he owned a car and was willing to drive Nathan to work every morning; a fact Nathan became only too aware of on mornings when he was forced into public transportation by his friend’s persistent inebriation.
Nathan sighed and turned his attention to the bathroom behind him, flicking the light on and checking himself in the mirror from the hallway. The dark circles under his eyes hand become a permanent fixture of his face, as had the stubble of his lazy beard and drooping effortless frown. He ran his hand through his short-cropped ash-blond hair, spiking the still-wet locks with his fingers. Looked good now, but by this afternoon it’s be limp and hanging in his face. Nathan shrugged and turned his attention back to Casey’s door pounding now.
“I’m gonna be late to work. . . So are you.” He rubbed his face and tried to shake the sleep off. “You’re gonna get fired if you keep doing this.”
“No I won’t.” It came back, more lucid, “They hate me too much to fire me. They wanna see me suffer.”
“Get up, or I’m coming in there.” Nathan threatened. I wouldn’t be the first time he’d had to forcibly drag Casey out of bed.
Silence.
Nathan snatched the doorknob and gave it an angry twist, fully intent on slamming the door open against the wall. Casey could pay to have the knob hole fixed, again. The effect was subdued by the pillow lying on the floor just beyond the threshold; and by Casey sitting fully clothed and wide awake on the edge of his bed laughing.
His clothes were disheveled as though he’d slept in them, he had one shoe on and his hair was a nest of tangles and debris. “You should see. . . Your face,” he gasped between breaths, “With the, grrr,” he made bear claws and stood up in ridiculous pantomime of Nathan throwing open the door. “God damn, it’s fun to get you fired up.”
“You’re already up?” Nathan asked rhetorically.
“You’re already up?” Casey replied in dopey parody. “Yeah, I’ve been up since you got out of the shower.” He picked his car keys off a nearby desk and shoved into his pocket’ “You make a lot of noise when you. . .” He made an obscene gesture.
“Oh, fuck you.” Nathan shot back, hoping the warmness in his face translated to anger rather than shame. “You’re not going to work like that are you?”
“Yeah, why?” Casey shoved past him in the doorway and moved to the kitchen,lightly kicking a discarded beer bottle as he rounded the corner.
“Well, for one thing,” Nathan followed him and took a seat in one of the plastic lawn chairs paced around their spool table, “You smell terrible.”
“Bullshit, I smell like roses.” Casey smiled, pulling a box of instant oatmeal from the cupboard.
“You smell like a bag of assholes.”
Casey poured cold coffee from the previous day’s pot into a travel mug, “I think it’s safe to assume they’re my assholes.” He ripped open a packet of instant cereal, “Thus, roses.”
“How can you eat that?” Nathan asked incredulously while Casey upended the dry oats into his mouth and followed it with a cold coffee chaser.
“It’s good.” he said, his mouth stuffed with coffee-oat mush. Casey offered a packet of oatmeal and swallowed, “Try it. Puts hair on your balls.”
Nathan stood, smiling weakly. “No thanks. Let’s go.”
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Post by James on Nov 6, 2011 20:46:11 GMT -5
Given it a read, Zovo. Nothing much to say besides it looks like a good start.
You can do it!
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Post by ASGetty ((Zovo)) on Nov 9, 2011 19:25:37 GMT -5
I met a girl today with just -the- best name for my female lead/love interest.
That makes me happy since it was something I'd been struggling with.
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Post by ASGetty ((Zovo)) on Mar 1, 2012 3:30:47 GMT -5
I think i might revisit this... in fact, I'm going to revisit a lot of half finished items in the near future I think...
Also, Agro, you lied to me.
This is not good... not even for a start.
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Post by James on Mar 1, 2012 4:01:59 GMT -5
I think i might revisit this... in fact, I'm going to revisit a lot of half finished items in the near future I think... Also, Agro, you lied to me. This is not good... not even for a start. I refuse to comment on my commenting. |
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