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nekosenseiSo...I'm thinking about submitting this story for my weekly writing challenge thingie. The problem is that I didn't get a lot of sleep last night and my head isn't on right today. Anybody want to read this and tell me if it's any good?
Dancing Between Order and Chaos
(7:16AM)
Ted stepped into his shower and wrinkled his nose at the ladybug perched on the wall across from him. Every year in late winter and early spring, the damn things invaded his house. Disgusted, Ted got out of the shower, grabbed some toilet paper, and wadded it in his right hand. Using the paper, he plucked the offending bug from the wall. Its exoskeleton made a satisfying crunch as he crushed it between his thumb and forefinger before pitching the entire mess in the toilet bowl. He watched as the paper and bug disappeared in a tidy-bowl swirl.
(7:25AM)
Ted toweled off. The clothes that he had picked out the night before were waiting for him, neatly folded, on the bathroom counter. Every day, he put them on in the same sequence: briefs first, followed by his undershirt, dress pants, button-down shirt, and suit jacket. He slipped the tie around his neck and adjusted it while regarding himself smugly in the mirror. Everything was in order.
(7:30AM)
Ted put his hand on the banister and walked down the twelve stairs to the first floor. He paused at the foot of the stairs. Anxiety gnawed at the pit of his stomach. He had forgotten to count. Ted went back up the stairs and repeated the process.
“One two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven twelve,” he muttered under his breath.
Then, he walked the seven steps down the hallway to his kitchen. He took two more steps to the coffee maker and made himself a cup of Trader Joe’s Kona Coffee, his favorite. He opened up his refrigerator, and pondered making his usual bagels and lox, but decided against it. He couldn’t bring himself to eat this morning. He just wasn’t hungry. Instead, he went outside and picked up the Chicago Tribune, which the paperboy had thrown haphazardly at his door.
(7:37AM)
Ted sat down at his kitchen table, cup of coffee in hand, and perused the newspaper. The main page announced that today was March 11th. According to the top headline, the mutilated body of a young nurse was found dead in front of her house in the far southwestern suburb of Plainfield. The police had no leads. Ted shook his head ruefully and turned to the comics.
(7:50AM)
Ted locked the deadbolt first, and then the knob.
Ted unlocked the door--knob first, then deadbolt—and opened the door.
He closed the door.
Ted locked the door again—deadbolt first followed by knob. Every day, he repeated this ritual to make sure the door was indeed locked.
Briefcase in hand, Ted descended the stairs of his stoop—there were four of them—and walked down the sidewalk to his car, carefully avoiding all of the cracks. Step on a crack, and break your mother’s back… He unlocked the door to his Toyota Camry and slid behind the wheel. Ted undid the club securing his wheel, put the key in the ignition, and began the ten-mile drive to work.
(8:15AM)
Ted turned on the computer in his cubicle at eight fifteen on the dot. Then, he counted the pens, pencils, and erasers in his desk—they were all there—and started to work.
******
(sometime after 5:00PM)
Shit. I’m already starting to slip.
Ted sprinted to the car that he had carefully parked in his assigned place that morning. The keys jangled noisily as he fumbled at the lock. He undid the club and tossed it hastily aside on the passenger seat. Ted nervously checked his watch and then ran his fingers carelessly through his hair, making it stand up on end.
I’m running late! Fuck!! I should really go further out today. Shit shit shit shit shit.
Ted threw the car in gear and peeled out of the lot. Today, he would head northwest. He got on I-90 towards Rockford, Illinois. Every time traffic slowed down, Ted chewed anxiously at his cuticles. After he passed Hoffman Estates, traffic eased up, and Ted felt calmer. The homes and businesses outside his car window thinned out until they became non-existent. Ted drove on until nothing but farms and cornfields surrounded him.
Good. I can stay out of trouble out here.
Ted’s mouth throbbed, and he was scratching at the skin on his stomach and chest. He found a densely wooded area, pulled off the road, and hid his car amidst the trees. Assured that no one was nearby, he yanked off his clothes and threw them into the back seat. Ted shivered. He opened his trunk, grabbed a rough blanket, and wrapped himself up the best he could. Fortunately, he wouldn’t be cold for long…
He found a boulder by the creek and sat, listening to the water gurgle merrily over the rocks. The moon, a big saucer hanging close to the horizon, rose behind the trees, bathing the creek in a surreal glow
When the moon hits your eye. Like a big-a pizza pie. THAT’S AMORÉ!!!
Ted looked down at his hands. Thick shaggy hair sprouted from his skin. His nails grew into sharp claws. Ted felt his soul tugged forward…back. And then, the world slid out from under him…
******
A thing from hell, it was as black as night.
Eyes like baleful yellow saucers glowed bright.
Head tilted back, it bayed at the sight
Of the shining, silver moon
AAAAAAOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUUU!!!
******
It frolicked and gamboled wildly over wood and field. Its tongue lolled out of its mouth to one side as if it were laughing. A pause. His sensitive ears picked up a contented roosting.
BLOOOOOOOODDD!!!!!
Through the wooden door of the hen house it smashed. Frightened birds darted back and forth in delightful chaos. Feathers fell around it like soft rain. It snatched one of them up and sunk its teeth in. Shake shake shake shake shake like a chew toy until it was dead. Hungrily, it devoured its kill in two gulps and went back for more, reveling in the bawking cries of terror.
Pain erupted in its side…once…twice. Furiously, the creature spun itself around. A man stood in the doorway with a shotgun. It regarded the offending man, wrinkling its nose in disgust. A low guttural growl like something out of a graveyard rattled in its throat.
FUUUUUCCCKKKEEERRRRR!!!
It leapt.
The farmer’s mouth, a surprised O.
An arm shielding a face in a futile gesture of self-preservation.
The creature thought the man’s bones made a satisfying crunch as it snapped his neck in two.
“We all have a dark side, to say the least”
--Pink Floyd, "Dogs of War"
(7:16AM)
Ted stepped into his shower and wrinkled his nose at the ladybug perched on the wall across from him. Every year in late winter and early spring, the damn things invaded his house. Disgusted, Ted got out of the shower, grabbed some toilet paper, and wadded it in his right hand. Using the paper, he plucked the offending bug from the wall. Its exoskeleton made a satisfying crunch as he crushed it between his thumb and forefinger before pitching the entire mess in the toilet bowl. He watched as the paper and bug disappeared in a tidy-bowl swirl.
(7:25AM)
Ted toweled off. The clothes that he had picked out the night before were waiting for him, neatly folded, on the bathroom counter. Every day, he put them on in the same sequence: briefs first, followed by his undershirt, dress pants, button-down shirt, and suit jacket. He slipped the tie around his neck and adjusted it while regarding himself smugly in the mirror. Everything was in order.
(7:30AM)
Ted put his hand on the banister and walked down the twelve stairs to the first floor. He paused at the foot of the stairs. Anxiety gnawed at the pit of his stomach. He had forgotten to count. Ted went back up the stairs and repeated the process.
“One two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven twelve,” he muttered under his breath.
Then, he walked the seven steps down the hallway to his kitchen. He took two more steps to the coffee maker and made himself a cup of Trader Joe’s Kona Coffee, his favorite. He opened up his refrigerator, and pondered making his usual bagels and lox, but decided against it. He couldn’t bring himself to eat this morning. He just wasn’t hungry. Instead, he went outside and picked up the Chicago Tribune, which the paperboy had thrown haphazardly at his door.
(7:37AM)
Ted sat down at his kitchen table, cup of coffee in hand, and perused the newspaper. The main page announced that today was March 11th. According to the top headline, the mutilated body of a young nurse was found dead in front of her house in the far southwestern suburb of Plainfield. The police had no leads. Ted shook his head ruefully and turned to the comics.
(7:50AM)
Ted locked the deadbolt first, and then the knob.
Ted unlocked the door--knob first, then deadbolt—and opened the door.
He closed the door.
Ted locked the door again—deadbolt first followed by knob. Every day, he repeated this ritual to make sure the door was indeed locked.
Briefcase in hand, Ted descended the stairs of his stoop—there were four of them—and walked down the sidewalk to his car, carefully avoiding all of the cracks. Step on a crack, and break your mother’s back… He unlocked the door to his Toyota Camry and slid behind the wheel. Ted undid the club securing his wheel, put the key in the ignition, and began the ten-mile drive to work.
(8:15AM)
Ted turned on the computer in his cubicle at eight fifteen on the dot. Then, he counted the pens, pencils, and erasers in his desk—they were all there—and started to work.
******
(sometime after 5:00PM)
Shit. I’m already starting to slip.
Ted sprinted to the car that he had carefully parked in his assigned place that morning. The keys jangled noisily as he fumbled at the lock. He undid the club and tossed it hastily aside on the passenger seat. Ted nervously checked his watch and then ran his fingers carelessly through his hair, making it stand up on end.
I’m running late! Fuck!! I should really go further out today. Shit shit shit shit shit.
Ted threw the car in gear and peeled out of the lot. Today, he would head northwest. He got on I-90 towards Rockford, Illinois. Every time traffic slowed down, Ted chewed anxiously at his cuticles. After he passed Hoffman Estates, traffic eased up, and Ted felt calmer. The homes and businesses outside his car window thinned out until they became non-existent. Ted drove on until nothing but farms and cornfields surrounded him.
Good. I can stay out of trouble out here.
Ted’s mouth throbbed, and he was scratching at the skin on his stomach and chest. He found a densely wooded area, pulled off the road, and hid his car amidst the trees. Assured that no one was nearby, he yanked off his clothes and threw them into the back seat. Ted shivered. He opened his trunk, grabbed a rough blanket, and wrapped himself up the best he could. Fortunately, he wouldn’t be cold for long…
He found a boulder by the creek and sat, listening to the water gurgle merrily over the rocks. The moon, a big saucer hanging close to the horizon, rose behind the trees, bathing the creek in a surreal glow
When the moon hits your eye. Like a big-a pizza pie. THAT’S AMORÉ!!!
Ted looked down at his hands. Thick shaggy hair sprouted from his skin. His nails grew into sharp claws. Ted felt his soul tugged forward…back. And then, the world slid out from under him…
******
A thing from hell, it was as black as night.
Eyes like baleful yellow saucers glowed bright.
Head tilted back, it bayed at the sight
Of the shining, silver moon
AAAAAAOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUUU!!!
******
It frolicked and gamboled wildly over wood and field. Its tongue lolled out of its mouth to one side as if it were laughing. A pause. His sensitive ears picked up a contented roosting.
BLOOOOOOOODDD!!!!!
Through the wooden door of the hen house it smashed. Frightened birds darted back and forth in delightful chaos. Feathers fell around it like soft rain. It snatched one of them up and sunk its teeth in. Shake shake shake shake shake like a chew toy until it was dead. Hungrily, it devoured its kill in two gulps and went back for more, reveling in the bawking cries of terror.
Pain erupted in its side…once…twice. Furiously, the creature spun itself around. A man stood in the doorway with a shotgun. It regarded the offending man, wrinkling its nose in disgust. A low guttural growl like something out of a graveyard rattled in its throat.
FUUUUUCCCKKKEEERRRRR!!!
It leapt.
The farmer’s mouth, a surprised O.
An arm shielding a face in a futile gesture of self-preservation.
The creature thought the man’s bones made a satisfying crunch as it snapped his neck in two.
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no subject
Date: 2009-03-08 03:27 am (UTC)Just my 2 Cents worth, although I did do tutoring at one time. I liked it!
no subject
Date: 2009-03-08 03:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-08 05:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-08 05:46 am (UTC)Also, I had my husband read it and he said that it was "okay." For him, that's pretty high praise. He's usually the first to tell me if something is stupid. (Also, he said something about werewolves not being his thing). :)
no subject
Date: 2009-03-08 06:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-08 06:28 am (UTC)(snuggles her husband)