BROKEN
PART TWO

By Joseph Schell


The moan of a thousand ancient souls, thats what it sounded like. Like the echos of life suddenly extinguished. A gloved hand raised to his face as he shielded the bic lighter from the merciless wind and lit his camel cigarette. Taking a slow drag deep into his lungs, the gloved hand returned to its warm haven from the elements in his right pocket, and his eyes surveyed the area.
The night sky would have been beautiful, no doubt, if it had not been choked with storm clouds. Gazing to his left, Glove eyed the fifth window on the east side of Donendoga Plaza, third floor. It was barely open, just a slit through the curtains that hung on the inside revealing what might have been room on the other side. Maybe a black hole. Maybe nothing at all. The darkness around the window seemed deeper than that of the night which surrounded it, as if a single uprising of lightless woe had come against the rest of its kind in a selfish battle for absolute opacity.
Glove scoffed at himself. I need to stop smoking these things. They're making me too sentimental..
He took another deep drag, let the smoke hang hot in his lungs for a moment, and then released the curling plume from his mouth. The cigarette fell to the ground, and went underfoot. With a small twist on his ankle, Glove disposed of his problem and turned back towards the north. He still had fifteen minutes.
The occupant of the fifth room in the east wing third floor would be asleep by then. He always fell asleep at the same time. Every night, like clockwork. Ironicly, the near-famous computer buff did not own even a digital watch by which to keep track of time, relying soley on his biological clock to keep himon shedule. It had been difficult to bug his room because of this, and instead of replacing an already existing piece of equipment with a camera/audio bug, Glove had simply mailed a package in his mother's name containing a digital clock with a simple one way transmitter disguised as a FM radio antenne, along with a small pinhole camera. After all, who would throw away a gift from mom?. Glove laughed.

Turning his wrist, Glove checked his watch. Mechanical, not digital, it had no blue LED light to brighten its face in the dark. He pulled out his bic and struck the flintwheel next to its brilliant platinum face.

Time.

someone called me sexy last night.


Myabe if it wasn't a ape-like mound of flesh with a cigarette it would have meant something.

heh

i walked out on my job today. The old one, not the new one at hoss's. It was hilarious, it was in the middle of my shift :D


i just bailed out through the back door. My manager aparently got very angry, hahahah

The cooks thought it was hilarious.


die, chimney corner.

I know your watching, susan. you leave your IP all over this site.


I apologize for offending you, i never meant what i said. You know what its like when your angry. If i were to take everything you say when your angry seriously, i'd believe you hated me.

I hope this is not the case.

BROKEN

by Joe Schell


read the posts in descending order.

The light from the window fought the darkness around me as though it were alive. Equaly fervent was the darkness, however, and neither seemed to keep the upper hand for long. it didn't matter. The light would loose before the dark would.It always did.

I placed my hand onto my side again, one of countless times that night. It was bloody. I wiped the evidence of my wound onto the bedsheets onto which I had fallen hours before. Were they gone yet? I could hardly remember the past few minutes, much less the time that had passed between... between what? Then and now? Maybe if i had known what then was. I reached accross the sheets to the nightstand and probed the desk for the clock. it wasn't there. They must have taken it. Time... not enough time...

The light began to fade from the window. It must be late. The darkness almost seemed to breathe a sigh of relief as the struggle began to subside. I rolled from my spot on the now blood stained sheets onto the floor, reaching out for something to steady myself but finding nothing. I collapsed like so much meat. I guess thats all i was, anyways. Just so much meat to be sold. The bleeding had slowed down, but as i pressed my hands into the carpet to rise, i felt a slick warmth. I must have torn the wound on my way off the bed.

Slowly, painfully, as though my body would split in two and fall to the floor again, i brought myself nearly upright. My hand slid accross the nightstand that i had used to steady myself and reminded me again of my condition, just in case the infero tearing through the muscles in my side and shoulder did not clue me in to this fact. With a weak shove, i managed to give myself the momentum to stumble to the dresser on the far wall. Some of the drawers lay scattered about the room, latent reminders of the admirable fight i had put up before my assailants nearly removed my internal organs and spread them onto the walls. Maybe if i survived the night, they'd get another chance.

Maybe if i survived the night they wouldn't.

Wincing in pain not fro my wound, but from the massive migraine headache that had formed during my trek accross the small hotel room, i switched on the light in the small bathroom and leaned against the vanity sink. I could smell the stillness of the air mixed with various bathroom cleaners, all producing what might have been pleseant spring and summer scents if they had not been mixed with the acrid stench of chloroform. Trances still remained on my clothes, and i wondered if they might still be potent enough to drop me again. I laughed softly despite my pain. It sure had taken alot of the stuff, or they had been over zealous, but the smell would remain for a long time.

Looking into the mirror i saw the face of what previously was a rather handsome computer analyst. My usualy well kept dark, almost black hair was mopped on my head with traces of blood at the left temple. My hunched form as portayed in the mirror did not at all resemble my six foot frame, which was not the most in-shape specimen but certainly did not look like it did then on a regular basis. I may not have been an athlete, but i never appeared anything but confident and purposeful. At least i had tried to until now. Now, i more resembled a herion addict in detox then a top ranked computer analyst for Becoly Enterprises. I laughed again, and immediately shot my hand to my side, deciding against any further comedy.

Reaching for the medicine cabinet, i heard a soft roll outside. I turned.

The lights died.

Darkness took its turn to laugh.


PART 2 WHEN I FEEL LIKE IT.

forgive my lack of life posts. i'll update you all soon.

more updates at my art page.

Even more art updates!

three new works

New updates on my art site.

five new works

last word.

woo. no school.

I got a job at Hoss's steak house, man. Good stuff. we are talking meals that cost $20 a pop. I start at only six bucks and hour, but from what i hear, i end up making alot more than that.

On sunday, i put in my application.
On monday i got my interview, and was almost handed the job right there.
Today i got called and now i have the job.

As a cook.

A cook!

at hoss's steakhouse!

Man, who would have thought.


Now all i gotta do is tell Chimeny Corner i am leaving (heh heh).