Thursday June 9th, 2011

The exercise:

Today we write about: doubt.

We got a lot of good work done in the garden and yard today. Now me sleepy.

Mine:

Now is not the time to question my abilities. There's no room for second guessing, hesitation, or exploring other options. Now is the time to act.

The elevator dings to let me know I've reached my desired floor and then the doors ease open. I step out, turn to the left and force myself to walk slowly. Don't draw attention, don't stand out. Nobody knows about the gun in my pocket.

I ease to a stop in front of room 822 and take a deep breath. My left fist is rapping on the door before any more thoughts can interfere. My right tightens around the gun grip before I force it to relax. Everything is going to plan.

"Hello?" The voice comes from the other side of the door, which remains closed. "Who's there?"

Is it him? It has to be. But what if it's not? I need to see his face to know for sure. But if it's the wrong guy he'll see my face, he'll remember me. This is no good. Time to abort.

I turn and head back to the elevator without saying a word.

6 Comments:

Greg said...

It funny how you almost never hear anyone saying that they got a lot of good work done in the office today. I wonder if it's an inbuilt thing in our species, to appreciate 'real' work over 'virtual' (for want of better descriptors)?
I like your story so much today that I thought I'd continue it :)

Doubt
"Hello?" The voice comes from behind me now, so he must have opened the door. Why would he do that? I quicken my pace for two steps, then I slow again, not wanting to seem like I'm running away. The gun suddenly feels ridiculously heavy in my pocket, like it's going to tear through the fabric.
"Hello!" His voice is firm and authorative now. "Hey, you! Room service!"
Damn, that's caught me. I stop and slowly turn, looking him straight in the eyes. It is him.
"I called nearly an hour ago, what's kept you so long?"
I can't believe my luck, he's barely looked at me, he's already turning away, expecting me to follow him. My hand slides back into my pocket, curling around the grip of the gun completely naturally, and I follow him. He leads the way into his room, turning left to go into the bathroom, and I hear the click of the lock as I shut the room-door behind me.
As I start to pull the gun out, I see the straight-razor on the sink, and wonder if I've picked the right weapon.

Heather said...

What is it with boys and their desire to murder? Don't get me wrong, women get to that point to, but once we've made a plan we stick to it.

Marc and Greg- Great story!
-----

He woke up late. Well, later than usual anyway. It was a few minutes after 7 a.m. when he climbed into my bed. Jill was right behind him. Snuggling with both of them, I whispered, “I can’t believe you are almost a first grader!”

Joe lay perfectly still as if this was a new revelation for him. Then he spoke in a voice that sounded near tears, but also filled with joy. “I am so happy that there are only two more hours of school that I could cry.”
He didn’t cry, I don’t think. He bounced. He bounced through breakfast; through getting dressed and putting his shoes on. He bounced to his back pack and out the door. He didn’t walk to school. He half ran and half bounced. With a quick hug a block before the front door of the school, he ran down the sidewalk and into the building.

When I picked him up 2 and a half hours later, he nervously handed me his report card. “Does it say I know enough to be a first grader?” he asked me, doubt distorting the tone of his voice. I put off giving him an answer until we made it home. Once home, we snuggled up in my bed and went over it one line at a time.

“But did I learn enough?” he asked. I smiled at him and said I thought he had. Then I read him the brief note from his teacher which ended with ‘Good luck in first grade Joe!’ I thought he was going to bounce through the walls and maybe even the floor. I think it is safe to say he is very excited!

Aaron said...

Really cool story Marc and Greg you merged together and made something great. Heather you wrote the antithesis of a man's story and I love it. I wrote this quick without thinking
doubtless it could have been better but I doubt it would be the same.
Doubt
Gnaw me Flaw me Saw me into little shreds of shame
Stay Me Flay Me Splay me into self-inflicted pain
Stillness fills my mind and drives away this stain
Awareness begins and ends again again again
I doubt and so I don’t
I do and so I live
This life isn’t waiting and I’ve no more time to give.

Marc said...

Greg - you know I'm always happy to have something of mine continued :) Love what you did with it.

As to the office thing - I think it must be at least partially due to so many desk drones not enjoying the work they do. That's been my experience, anyway.

Heather - I blame the movies. And TV :P

Loved your story :)

Aaron - thank you :)

Sometimes writing quick produces the best results, because we can't get in our own way. I think that was the case this time - really great stuff!

motherinToronto said...

Mary Poppins

The sun rose on Queen Street Sunday morning as we emptied out of the empty industrial loft. Planning to go to the after party, I had dropped acid but the sun beaming down on sweaty, tired bodies chased my energy away. I may have been too optimistic in my plans.

A man chalked images on the sidewalk that seemed so real that they stepped out of the pavestones. And then there it was. The picnic set out on the sidewalk, laid out just for us. At once, doubt crept in. Was it real? Did I really care? A wide smile settled on my weary face, sparkly make-up smudged face. Nope. I did not care.

After pointing it out to my friends, we settled down for my picnic on the Toronto sidewalk, devoid of it's traffic on a Sunday morning. I suppose it was make believe but I'm more curious where that artist came from. I have my doubts that he was real, but I like to believe that he really was there.

Marc said...

Mother in T.O. - those sidewalk drawings are amazing. I suspect that if I ever came across one while under the influence of anything, the result would be hilarious to everyone but myself :)