"Being a good writer is 3% talent, 97% not being distracted by the internet." Cyrus Farivar

Thursday, February 10, 2011

Broken Limbs Part I

            Reclined against a tree, I listened to the slow rustle of leaves as the light breeze lifted the edge of my hat. It had been hours since the sun had set when the roads were jammed with exhausted office workers. Already my work day was close to an end, and I barely felt as if I’d been productive today.
            Raising the brim of my fedora, I glanced at the road. It was devoid of cars this time of night. A smirk formed on my face as I inhaled and smelt the intoxicating aroma of burning rubber. Straightening, I adjusted my suit. Just as I fixed my tie a sudden gust blew about me, snatching my hat from my head. My hand flashed out and snagged it as a car sped past.
            I had my work cut out for me. Watching the car race off, I grinned. Everyone had to earn a living; mine was just a bit more peculiar. Closing my eyes I opened them to be sitting in the car with the speeding driver.
            “I must say, you’re putting on quite a show, chap,” I said, looking at him as he sped along. He glanced at me several times.
            “I gotta win this race. First he dissed me and then he dissed my car. The last straw was stealing my girl,” he said, glancing in his mirror, looking for who he was racing.
            “Have ya been drinking?” I reclined against the seat, watching him.
            “Only a l’ttle. A beer ‘r two,” he said, swerving.
            “Ah, just a skosh,” I replied, nodding. We veered again, significantly more than before.
            “Do I win?”
            “Do I win?” The man glanced at me several times.
            “Well, I believe you do, but do you?”
            “I wanna know!” He stared at me with his crazed eyes.
            “Be careful,” I merely answered, looking forwards. His eyes refocused on the road just as I shut my eyes again.

* * * * *

            The road was littered with car. Taking off my hat I brushed off the dust and fit it to my head. Turning, I looked at the wreck. The front end was smashed in so far, one would no longer have legs. Its roof was almost level with the rest of the automobile. Looking away, I saw the man appear beside me.
            “What ‘ave I done?!” He was gaping at the car.
            “Well, let’s see. You were racing and started to get ask too many questions. And then you looked away from the road,” I explained simply. Picking at my fingernails, I wiped them off on my jacket. His eyes followed my actions as he stood in a daze. Glancing at his face, I sighed.
            “You’re still here? Shouldn’t you have evaporated?” He stared at me, surprised at my tone.
            “W-Wha—“ Rolling my eyes I took a deep breath and blew at his translucent form. His figure held for a moment before starting to spiral upwards as if I had just put out a fire. Wiping my hands on my trousers, I turned and walked back towards my tree. Tonight’s quota was filled, my work was done.

1 comment:

  1. I sincerely approve of this characterization. I'm really glad to see it's a part one though, because it definitely feels like it needs more!