Someone decided to set my workplace on fire, so this piece comes with a delay of almost half an hour. #blogging #priorities
“Use these as props for a short fiction piece: a blue monkey, a chopped onion and a malfunctioning elevator.”
– a prompt for this week’s CW piece.
My head was pounding from last night.
“What was I thinking, partying like I was 20 again?” – I wondered to myself tiptoeing to the bathroom, trying not to awaken Tom.
The mirror wasn’t kind, reflecting my red, puffy eyes and my oddly colored 39-year-old face. Normally porcelain white, it was now a shade of tired.
I splashed some cold water onto my face, grabbed a pair of pain killers from the medicine cabinet and washed them down with sink water. Desperate times called for desperate measures.
Now fully awake, I walked past the bedroom and into the kitchen, closing the door behind me, allowing Tom to get a little bit more sleep. He gets cranky when someone wakes him up before his alarm.
Pouring myself a glass of filtered, ice-cold water, I tried to recall the events of last night, but could not remember anything past drinking absinthe. Walter came back from a trip to Switzerland, raving about this alcoholic beverage and insisted on us giving it a try. The first sip was rough, but then you just got used to it.
It felt like there was construction going on inside my head. Drilling, demolition and noise. Lots of it. Thinking I could somehow dull it with outside stimuli, I powered on the TV and Channel 2 News came on.
“A 17-year-old girl in critical condition. Hit by a car last night and left to die in a ditch. If you have any information on the topic, please call the toll – free line at 1-800-445-2348 or 911.”
A blue monkey came to my mind.
“Oh, no” – I thought to myself and ran towards the exit door.
“C’mon, C’mon, COME ON” – I muttered at the elevator.
Once it finally arrived, I got inside and pressed “2” for the parking garage, praying that no one else would get on between floors 37 and 2. I had to get to my car as soon as possible. The elevator stopped at 31 and I sighed, pressing the “Close door” button. No one got on and the elevator continued on its journey.
Driving back home wasn’t my plan last night, but there seemed to have been no cab around and I thought I had sobered up a bit by standing outside in the cold for a few minutes. I remembered fumbling through the radio stations, but not being able to find anything I liked.
The elevator stopped at 22 and again, no one got on.
A felt a slight thump. When my eyes lifted from the radio panel, I saw a blue monkey to the side of the road.
“Wow. That’s some real shit” – I marveled at the effects of the absinthe.
Starting on the 15th floor, the elevator would stop on every floor, with no one getting on, so I got off on the 10th floor and just took the stairs.
Breathless, I arrived at the parking garage, barley having any strength to walk to my car. Thankfully, my car was parked nearby. And it looked alright.
I exhaled and walked to the other side to make sure there was no damage.
The dent on the other side of the bumper was very visible.
Hyperventilating, I turned around and walked back towards the elevator. This time it worked perfectly and I was back in the apartment in no time.
“What time did you get in?” – I heard Tom ask from the bedroom as I shuffled around the kitchen.
Grabbing an onion, I ignored his question.
“Becky?” – he asked from just a few steps behind me.
I turned around towards him, sniffling.
“What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”
Thought were racing through my head. Tom is a cop.
“Can he help me, or would he make things worse?” – I pondered.
“It’s the onion” – I said.
“I’m chopping it up to add to the scrambled eggs just as you like it” – I added.
“You’re the best. I’m going to shower and then we can talk over breakfast” – he said and kissed me on the forehead.
P.S. As always, you are more than welcome to use this prompt to inspire your post. If you decide to write something, be sure to pingback to this post, so that I can get an alert and check out your post. (A post on how to do pingbacks can be found here.) If pingbacks are not your thing, feel free to simply leave a link to your piece in the comment section below. The more, the merrier!
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