a very short story I wrote
Posted: February 25th, 2014, 2:27 am
The Final Bust
The sound of your feet hitting the floor echo throughout the dark open hall, you swing open the door to the tall locker to your right. You are a little taken by the sound of fabric settling back against the wood door. You reach for the uniform you have lived in near to your entire life; the fabric is cool and soft. You step into it and pull it up over your shoulders and zip it up. You pull out your shined black boots and slip into them pulling the laces tight. How many times have you laced these up in the early hours of the morning through blurred vision? You lost count long ago.
You reach into your locker and fumble for your belt. It’s weighed down with multiple tools of your trade. Inside you smile at that thought, trade, yes you suppose it is a trade and these are your tools. You slip the belt around your waist and secure it. You make one last check to ensure you have everything that you need. You pick up the piece of paper you had placed on your shelf, you blink to clear your vision and ensure that your scribblings are legible, check you can read it clearly.
You walk around to the driver’s side of the big white vehicle that is the company transport, you slide onto the ageing leather bench seat and grip the wheel. On the inside you smile again as you remember the excitement of your chubby co-worker the day he brought this vehicle back to the office. He spent day’s rebuilding it to what it is now. You can still remember the pure excitement on his face on the first call out you had. You always marvelled at his enthusiasm for what you always felt was the mundane every day. You glance into the passenger’s side and remember how you both had to pull your other co-worker out of it after the first job when he had dried into it.
You turn the key and the engine roars to life, you nod as you admire how your over qualified jack of all trades co-work had kept the car in top and peak running condition despite its age. He has always been a marvel with any machine.
You reach for the remote to the garage doors and push the button, the elderly doors groan as they open. You’ve spoken about replacing them but haven’t got around to it. The sun is just beginning to rise in the city. It looks like it’s to be a beautiful day. You ease the car into gear and slowly pull out onto the street. You reach across the dash and begin flicking the switches to turn on the flashing blue lights. With the last switch the siren begins to wind up to its familiar wail.
You push yourself back into the seat and take a deep breath and pull out onto the road. You drive down the road towards the sunrise as it fills the cab of the vehicle with its warm glow. You check the rear vision mirror and watch as your office, your home, disappears into the distance.
See you on the other side Doctor Spengler.
The sound of your feet hitting the floor echo throughout the dark open hall, you swing open the door to the tall locker to your right. You are a little taken by the sound of fabric settling back against the wood door. You reach for the uniform you have lived in near to your entire life; the fabric is cool and soft. You step into it and pull it up over your shoulders and zip it up. You pull out your shined black boots and slip into them pulling the laces tight. How many times have you laced these up in the early hours of the morning through blurred vision? You lost count long ago.
You reach into your locker and fumble for your belt. It’s weighed down with multiple tools of your trade. Inside you smile at that thought, trade, yes you suppose it is a trade and these are your tools. You slip the belt around your waist and secure it. You make one last check to ensure you have everything that you need. You pick up the piece of paper you had placed on your shelf, you blink to clear your vision and ensure that your scribblings are legible, check you can read it clearly.
You walk around to the driver’s side of the big white vehicle that is the company transport, you slide onto the ageing leather bench seat and grip the wheel. On the inside you smile again as you remember the excitement of your chubby co-worker the day he brought this vehicle back to the office. He spent day’s rebuilding it to what it is now. You can still remember the pure excitement on his face on the first call out you had. You always marvelled at his enthusiasm for what you always felt was the mundane every day. You glance into the passenger’s side and remember how you both had to pull your other co-worker out of it after the first job when he had dried into it.
You turn the key and the engine roars to life, you nod as you admire how your over qualified jack of all trades co-work had kept the car in top and peak running condition despite its age. He has always been a marvel with any machine.
You reach for the remote to the garage doors and push the button, the elderly doors groan as they open. You’ve spoken about replacing them but haven’t got around to it. The sun is just beginning to rise in the city. It looks like it’s to be a beautiful day. You ease the car into gear and slowly pull out onto the street. You reach across the dash and begin flicking the switches to turn on the flashing blue lights. With the last switch the siren begins to wind up to its familiar wail.
You push yourself back into the seat and take a deep breath and pull out onto the road. You drive down the road towards the sunrise as it fills the cab of the vehicle with its warm glow. You check the rear vision mirror and watch as your office, your home, disappears into the distance.
See you on the other side Doctor Spengler.
