Jump to content

» «


No replies to this topic
The Pizza Delivery Guy
  • The Pizza Delivery Guy

    Don't Mind Me...

  • Members
  • Joined: 29 Jan 2013
  • United-States


Posted 09 March 2013 - 05:24 AM

The last 1/3 was rushed. I wanted to get this out before I left.


So I just stare into the computer every day. Thatís all I see are the collected pixels from all over the world. I donít care about anything else when Iím sitting here. I just stare at the screen. Just then I see something out of the corner of my eye. I look slightly to the left and stare out the window four feet away from me. Nothing there. Blue sky, my backyard, itís the same as ever. So boring. No wonder I just sit here every day.

Then I took another look. The deep blue sky staring down on me gives me the feeling that Iím being watched upon. Not in a bad way. I feel safer now actually. Wow. What a sky.

The grass out there is the greenest Iíve ever seen! I wonder how, I donít take care of the yard. I guess it takes care of itself. I feel guilty. That serene scene right outside my house and I spend all my time in front of a computer screen. Maybe thatís what mom was always talking about.

No, no time to think about that now, thereís work to be done. No, thereís no work to be done. Iím just reading a blog written by some guy Iíve never met. Is that a cardinal? How majestic.

I stand up and walk to the window. So much life out there just passing me by. Thereís a rabbit. I press my hand to the cold glass of the window. Wait, what was I thinking of? Why am I standing up? Oh well, stranger things have happened.

Click. Click. Click. Thatís all I hear. Oh wait, thereís a bird chirp. There seems to be life outside today! I look out the window yet again. Why is it so gorgeous outside today? Itís the middle of winter, there should be meters of snow climbing the house. Blocking my view. Out the window.

Thereís something about this window. What is it? Itís so clean. I never clean. Actually, taking a closer look, this window is more decorated than the others. In fact, this is the only decorated window in my whole house. Damn, what was I doing standing up again? The glass is so coldÖ so unforgiving. It doesnít care about me being hold up in here every day. It doesnít beckon me to the outside. It just sits there uselessly. Itís a window.

Why is my computer off? Why am I so off today? I need a little air. Iíll just open the windowÖ what was I doing? Damn, Iím so forgetful. Whenever I touch this window I just forget everything. What was I talking about? I need some air.

I yank the window open. I donít know why I did it. Iím instantly engulfed in the fumes. The paper begins to peel off the window and the faÁade is up. I see the beautiful background fly off as the scene changes. Now all I see outside is the charred remains of my once glorious backyard. The bombs fell about 2 miles from here, and yet MY yard gets burned to a crisp? Damn Commies.

It smells like sh*t out there. I yank the window shut. The fumes go away, but the image doesnít. Now all I see is the truth. Our country had been bombed, and everyone had been killed. Except for me. I completely forgot. Speaking of which, why am I standing up? This window is so coldÖ DAMN! What happened out there? When did this happen to my yard? I run for the door, but the second I touch the handleÖ wait what was I saying. I see a note on the door.

ďMy dear husband, We were warned to leave the city, but you wouldnít go. I decided it was best for the kids if I went with them. By the time you read this, we are probably gone and the bombs have fallen. I have changed your internet settings to always go to your favorite sites no matter what internet connection you have. The exits have changed too, you donít need to worry about it. Your wife, Denise.Ē

Who was Denise? I have kids? Theyíre gone? Bombs fell!? I need to get out of here! As soon as I touch the doorknobÖ what was I saying?

I need to learn to be less forgetful. Wonder whatís going on online?

1 user(s) are reading this topic

0 members, 1 guests, 0 anonymous users