Short story excerpt.
Prose. Downcast, suspenseful.
The following is the first two pages of a short story.
The first hint, for me at least, that something was happening came from the television. Over the past few weeks there had been a bombardment of advertisements about last night’s lineup on all the major networks. For whatever reason, maybe just to shake things up, it was the series finale of no less than a dozen shows last night. I hadn’t held any particular attachment for any of the programs, but I had nothing better to do than just sit and watch what may have been a historic television event. I flipped back and forth between the channels trying to collect bits of denouement, but it all just ran together. Friends cried and hugged, lovers kissed and got married, criminals finally got caught. I just couldn’t pay much attention. I thought it was all too neat, and too trite. At the time, I hadn’t been surprised in quite a while.
Nothing new ended up airing last night, so I decided to watch the news. It was just as rote as any of the series finales. Planes crashed, buildings collapsed, wars ravaged some places that I had never been to. The ticker seemed to be going faster than usual, the names and locations of victims blurring slightly as they sped by. After changing the station once again, the local news warned me not to drive. I felt somewhat flattered to be included in the pageantry. Apparently there had been a record number of car accidents in and around the town in the past few hours. I didn’t think it had been raining or foggy outside. Instead, it felt like it should have been a dreary overcast Sunday afternoon, despite being Monday evening. There was that same languid weight in the air, a pervasive ennui that made it feel like life would never be what you thought it should be. It had been clinging to my every step yesterday, battering my expectations until I felt that television would be preferable to the uncanny stagnancy about the world. Maybe last night had proven once and for all that bleak weather was more deadly than an ice storm.
I barely had time to process the day’s tragic notoriety when the news blared a second warning. A quick cut shot showed the local hospital filled with masses of ailing figures, while the bottom of the screen read, “ALERT: FOOD POISONING EPIDEMIC. AUTHORITIES SUSPECT WATER SUPPLY, WARN AGAINST DRINKING WATER.” I couldn’t remember the last time that I had drank water. It always seemed to have a funny metallic taste to me. I wondered if I should call any of my friends or family. I was concerned, but on the other hand, if anyone was hurt, they probably had more important things to do than to talk to me. I looked at the clock. It was just past midnight. That settled it. I wouldn’t want to wake anyone up just to experience the consummate bad night. They probably wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep.
From outside, I could almost hear the sounds of people panicking. Or it could have just been the couple across the street throwing another loud party. Two people were screaming, possibly to each other. I didn’t know what to make of it. I just felt tired. I thought that the best thing to do would just be to go to bed. Let things sort themselves out. If I woke up in the morning, I would probably feel much better, and so would the world. I wouldn’t have bet money on myself waking up, though. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to. It was just a bad night. That was what I was thinking as I went to bed. Strangely enough, I fell asleep very quickly.
I hadn’t set my alarm. There was no way that work would be open tomorrow, and if it was, there was no way I would be able to concentrate. I cannot remember whether I dreamt last night.
I woke up to the sound of an explosion. I didn’t open my eyes right away. Though I tried to just stay still and not think of anything for a while, I had reflexively gotten out of bed while doing so. I didn’t want to look out the window. That would be my last resort.
I turned on the television in an attempt to find out what was happening. Snowy dead static crept onto the screen. I wondered if the cable was out, or if the news had celebrated its series finale as well. I tried logging onto the computer and opening a news site, but according to the error page that opened, “A connection to the server could not be established.” It suggested that I may have made a typo. I appreciated the advice, but disagreed about the source of the problem. I checked to see if the phone lines were dead, confirming my suspicion. Even my cell phone was out of service. Eventually I concluded that the only way to find out what was going on would be to look outside.
***
That’s where I’m at right now. I have been standing in front of the door for a few minutes, trying to collect myself. I take a deep breath, feel the air fill my lungs, and trace the path of my nerves all the way to my fingers and toes. They aren’t being charged with more or less vitality from just standing here. There is only one thing for me to do. I open the door and step forward.
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