Thursday, 17 September 2015

Bottled Up

He was sitting in his truck, thinking about the way the world worked. The way he drove around all day just to see the numbers tick over on a banking website he occasionally logged into. The same numbers that moved from place to place on portable plastic slips and ebbed away day by day as rapidly as his life did.

Innocence intrigued him. He'd been watching the daughter of the family next door for a few weeks. Most days, he'd start his truck and sit and wait for it to warm up. She'd walk by on her way to school and smile, waving a mitten covered hand at him. He thought about various ways he might insert himself more prominently into her life, but couldn't get past the thought that he would corrupt her with all of the baggage he carried. Despite all that driving, and all that time to think, he couldn't come up with any ideas. No matter what scenario he played out in his mind, it would always end up with him ruining everything he liked about her.

And so instead he sat inside his truck and waved, wondering what it'd be like to be laying inside a grave.

2 comments:

  1. You should go to Japan more often if it prompts you to write stuff this good.

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  2. think i wrote it before i left :'(

    ReplyDelete