The Box II
Continued unadulterated bile from the sewers of Darren Jaworski
1
"Mom I don't get it. What is it? Why is there only a key in the box? What does it go to?" The boy contains the singular face of puzzlement, ineptitude. He holds the key outward toward his mother in the kitchen.
"Dinner is in 5 minutes dear," says the mom as she stirs a pot facing away from the boy.
"What are you talking about? What key?" She turns to the boy, grabs the key and now possesses the boy's puzzled expression. "I do not know," she says with a curious eye.
"That was all that was in the box."
"I didn't buy you a box with a key in it. I bought you a brand new Unmentionable
Adventure action figure. Supposed to contain the map to hidden treasure, and the most dangerous place on earth. What a rippoff! I can't believe this!" She turns back to cooking, giving back the key to the boy. "We'll go tomorrow after work and return the sham to the store. I believe I'll have words."
"Can I keep the key?" The boy is a master of supplication.
"Why do you want it? What could you possibly do with a key, nothing to use it on?"
Thinking, the boy finally just asks again, and again.
With quandaries abound, the mother agrees.
2
The glass distorted the streaking yellow light to the west, which is running like an overly excited firefly in the distance. The man lowers the bottle, rubs his eyes, and profunctly gazes toward the evening sky. The light is bigger than an airship, however without a reference point, size is undeterminable now. The subtle movements of the source indicates a peculiarity beyond the drunkards comprehension, or sobriety. Capable of a multitude of acrobatics, and incomprehensible movement. The yellow now has become a red, which becomes a orange. Westward it appears, moving up, down any imaginable direction.
Then from behind the man, who is repositioning himself to higher ground, comes another immersion of light. Filling the valley the man is running through, the light passes a few hundred feet directly above him. It leaves a residue which falls behind it, losing vibrance as it goes to the ground. From the east, it is rapidly approaching the other source.- His vision is obscured by the top of the hill as the light flies over the crest.
The man runs up the face, eventually running over the top of the hill.
3
"Well, I'd prefer a refund sir. I bought a specific product from you, and you give me an empty box. I demand to speak to your manager." At this point the woman had been speaking for around 10 minutes.
"Miss, I am the manager, owner, and currently only worker. If you're accusing anyone of making a mistake, I take that personally. You bought a mystery box right? It should have been left unopened, thus preserving the mystery. Now I don't recall any sort of Unmentionable Action figure. You're the one who is mistaken." The man speaking is a rotund, stalky fellow. heavy at the waist. His condescending attitude is peaked by his ability to snobbishly look at the mother.
"Just give me my money back, you can have your empty box, and everyone is satisfied.--"
"No"
"I'm not satisfied, I want at least a refund of some of my money."
"No"
"What is my son going to do with an empty box?"
"I have no idea, and it isn't my problem."
"You're a waste."
"There is the door miss, have a nice day."
"I'm well on the way. I'm not ever coming into your crap store."
She exits to her son in the car. Throws the box through the back window, and gets in the driver seat. She takes off down the road.
"Stop the car, mom!" The boy screams.
To the mother's protests and attempt to lock the door, the boy climbs out and scurries toward a dumpster behind the toy shop. By the time mother gets out of the car and finds her son, he has retrieved what caught his eye. A large wooden crate with a large T on the side.
4
By the time he caught his breath, the collision had occurred roughly one hundred feet above his head. The trees scattered the light creating rays, and a brilliant effect of running through stars. He saw where the west light had fallen, beyond two trees a few yards away. It had dimmed, weakened from the events occurring previously. The man cautiously approached the fading light, walking on uncovered ground, lest not to startle the being.
Only a few feet now. He can see the ground where it lay.
The glowing light was no larger than a fist, yet was vibrant as a well fueled torch.
As he pushed aside the brush, he knelt to a knee just over the source. It moved.
June 3, 2009
June 2, 2009
The Box I
The Box I
Unedited, fresh from the disturbed mind of Darren Jaworski.
1
"So what's in the box?"
"That's for you to decide," was the reply from his mother.
2
They're taking it down the canal. Pushing the swamped roofs of two centuries past, the man in lead has done this before. Calmed by the whooshing of the high tide, gossiped about by closing windows. The other man is motionless. Watching the next turn.
The case is at the bow of the boat, the lead mid, and the lagging man in relapse behind the two. The bottle makes a similar sound to the water on the buildings they pass. Almost there.
3
"It isn't a puppy."
She laughs. "No, it is not a puppy."
4
A man stands at the end of pier, he will be the one to throw the rope. Tethering the boat, the two men disembark, greet the pier man properly, and unload the box from the bow. The lead is first, grasping the handle firmly and waiting for his stumbling companion. The latter finds the weight considerably heavier than the first. He finds footing on the dock, and the two walk the box to a waiting cart.
The two silhouettes walk from the dock, one walking the cart. They stop at the first firm footing. The last building had cleared their pathway into the back alley to their left.
5
"I'm going to my room."
"Dinner is in 30 minutes."
6
The two are alone. Sitting in the alley, occasionally looking in each eyes. The bottle goes up, then down again on the box top. Their wait is benign, yet unforgiving....
A changing light shapes its way into the alley's opening. Both men are eager, and perk. This is their shape. The box is now in motion again. They take it to across a bridge, then further through the city outskirts. A man waves to them from his stoop.
1.1
The boy sits in his room, staring at the box. Inconspicuous enough, as it contains no discernable marks of any kind, other then wear. His brother is, lying silent. Covered in brown paper, the box resembles a cereal box. That perfectly proportioned rectangular shape.
Placing the box on his desk, just in front of his wooden dinosaur model. He sits in the chair at the desk. Waits. There could be a puppy in there.
1.2
"Welcome gentlemen."
"We have no time, sir," retorted the man as he lowered the bottle.
1.3
He is reminded of his last birthday party. The other boys sitting around a table, awkwardly listening to his mother on the phone. She was crying like when they visited the home where he last saw grandpa. It was that same cracking voice, same desperate breathing. The box was unemotional.
To imagine the fate of his life was beyond his years. The subtle movement of time would grab him every now and then, whispering to him with that same desperation as his mother's crying. Today was his birthday.
1.4
"Can you believe they found giant fossils at Stonesfield?"
"Where is your wife?"
2.1
The bottle rests in his coat pocket as he splays the box on the ground. The weight has obviously taken it's toll, as evidenced by his sweaty brow. A moment later he will be joking with the gentleman's wife. Until then she would lay motionless.
His companion prepared the husband's expectations by taking him to another room. The man was worried, torn in belief. He would be vindicated, or disappointed soon. She will laugh again.
2.2
"Do you want to fix the dinosaur," said the boy as he held up the broken wooden rib.
No reply was audible.
2.3
Another swig from the bottle, then an intrepid hand reached for the latch on the box, as it opened the other man recoiled. The key was turned, revealing a T on the metal. After a brief respite from unhinging, both men stood above the box. The light emanating reflected in their eyes. Their face's show awe--
The woman lying in bed, hours before was death, is now laughing.
2.4
The boy opens the box by cutting the paper with the prong of a fork, removing the paper fully, then prying open the top slit. He turned it upside down. Nothing happens. He shakes it repeatedly. Frustrated, the boy looks into the box from the open side.
A metallic shimer is clinging to the inside of the box on the width side of the box. It is helped by a a piece of tape strewn across it. The boy reaches in, grabs the object and pulls it free. A key, with the letter T on it. The boy looks up at his brother, sitting motionless, as the heart monitor blinks.
Unedited, fresh from the disturbed mind of Darren Jaworski.
1
"So what's in the box?"
"That's for you to decide," was the reply from his mother.
2
They're taking it down the canal. Pushing the swamped roofs of two centuries past, the man in lead has done this before. Calmed by the whooshing of the high tide, gossiped about by closing windows. The other man is motionless. Watching the next turn.
The case is at the bow of the boat, the lead mid, and the lagging man in relapse behind the two. The bottle makes a similar sound to the water on the buildings they pass. Almost there.
3
"It isn't a puppy."
She laughs. "No, it is not a puppy."
4
A man stands at the end of pier, he will be the one to throw the rope. Tethering the boat, the two men disembark, greet the pier man properly, and unload the box from the bow. The lead is first, grasping the handle firmly and waiting for his stumbling companion. The latter finds the weight considerably heavier than the first. He finds footing on the dock, and the two walk the box to a waiting cart.
The two silhouettes walk from the dock, one walking the cart. They stop at the first firm footing. The last building had cleared their pathway into the back alley to their left.
5
"I'm going to my room."
"Dinner is in 30 minutes."
6
The two are alone. Sitting in the alley, occasionally looking in each eyes. The bottle goes up, then down again on the box top. Their wait is benign, yet unforgiving....
A changing light shapes its way into the alley's opening. Both men are eager, and perk. This is their shape. The box is now in motion again. They take it to across a bridge, then further through the city outskirts. A man waves to them from his stoop.
1.1
The boy sits in his room, staring at the box. Inconspicuous enough, as it contains no discernable marks of any kind, other then wear. His brother is, lying silent. Covered in brown paper, the box resembles a cereal box. That perfectly proportioned rectangular shape.
Placing the box on his desk, just in front of his wooden dinosaur model. He sits in the chair at the desk. Waits. There could be a puppy in there.
1.2
"Welcome gentlemen."
"We have no time, sir," retorted the man as he lowered the bottle.
1.3
He is reminded of his last birthday party. The other boys sitting around a table, awkwardly listening to his mother on the phone. She was crying like when they visited the home where he last saw grandpa. It was that same cracking voice, same desperate breathing. The box was unemotional.
To imagine the fate of his life was beyond his years. The subtle movement of time would grab him every now and then, whispering to him with that same desperation as his mother's crying. Today was his birthday.
1.4
"Can you believe they found giant fossils at Stonesfield?"
"Where is your wife?"
2.1
The bottle rests in his coat pocket as he splays the box on the ground. The weight has obviously taken it's toll, as evidenced by his sweaty brow. A moment later he will be joking with the gentleman's wife. Until then she would lay motionless.
His companion prepared the husband's expectations by taking him to another room. The man was worried, torn in belief. He would be vindicated, or disappointed soon. She will laugh again.
2.2
"Do you want to fix the dinosaur," said the boy as he held up the broken wooden rib.
No reply was audible.
2.3
Another swig from the bottle, then an intrepid hand reached for the latch on the box, as it opened the other man recoiled. The key was turned, revealing a T on the metal. After a brief respite from unhinging, both men stood above the box. The light emanating reflected in their eyes. Their face's show awe--
The woman lying in bed, hours before was death, is now laughing.
2.4
The boy opens the box by cutting the paper with the prong of a fork, removing the paper fully, then prying open the top slit. He turned it upside down. Nothing happens. He shakes it repeatedly. Frustrated, the boy looks into the box from the open side.
A metallic shimer is clinging to the inside of the box on the width side of the box. It is helped by a a piece of tape strewn across it. The boy reaches in, grabs the object and pulls it free. A key, with the letter T on it. The boy looks up at his brother, sitting motionless, as the heart monitor blinks.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
