Forum Overview :: Cabaret Voltron :: Maybe when I'm 50 I'll publish a book: 250 Really Fucking Short Stories

[quote name="mrs. johnson"]On a bright sunny day, somewhere, someone is trying to live. They are failing. Their breath is leaving, their heart is weakening, their brain is shutting down, their muscles are giving way, and their very minds and souls are being separated. At the same time, two adolescents are in love. They cannot think straight because they have found almost complete acceptance. Their lives are so steeped in happiness that they don’t realize that what they have cannot possibly last. They smile as they go to sleep and awake with wistfulness and anticipation. Somewhere between these two extremes lives Colburn. He is a man older than a college sophomore, yet younger than a newly retired engineer. He lives in a small town, and he likes to smoke a pipe once in a while. All his life he has wished for nothing more than a house with a library and a fireplace. Now he has those things. He doesn’t know if he’s happy though, but he’s fine with that. All he wants to do is live. Colburn awoke one morning and went off to work. It was June and 8 AM. He drove with both windows down and the breeze tousled his hair. He didn’t care. Even though his job required a suit, he didn’t wear one. This was because he was too valuable to be fired. He and his bosses had an unspoken agreement. Colburn would do his job and not disturb anyone, and he could do pretty much whatever he wanted. Rough, quick jazz was sliding easily through his ears as he glanced at the scenery. Colburn’s home town was located at the edge of a thick Minnesotan forest, and most of the buildings reflected the town’s predominantly timber industry. The boulevards of the city were full of greenery at this time of year, and Colburn breathed deeply with enjoyment. On his way to work, Colburn encountered a severe traffic jam. For some indiscernible reason, the radio began to receive only static. Colburn stood there for a little over an hour before his thoughts left the realm of his immediate life and began to float away. His gaze shifted towards the sky, and he observed a gleaming light. It was growling slowly larger, but Colburn was not alarmed. Something to his right drew his vision, and he turned his head to the right quickly, only to catch a glimpse of something retreating into the woods. Without much thought, Colburn exited his car and began to walk towards the tree line. Moments later, what was the gleaming light in the sky came crashing down on top of Colburn’s car. The deafening noise snapped him out of his daze and he spun around to see that a small meteor had pierced the driver’s seat. After the tow truck removed his car, Colburn walked home. He called work to inform them that he could not come in and climbed into bed. Finally alone, he thought about his near death experience and could make no sense of it. He forgot completely about the traffic jam and the radio, and fell asleep. Upon waking, he walked to the spot where the meteor hit his car, and found a few observers on the scene. The rock actually penetrated his car and was embedded in the road. As the sun continued to descend, Colburn’s eyes were once again pulled towards the spot where he detected the apparition that saved his life. Without thought, he walked to the tree line and entered the forest. The sun continued to set behind him, but he could no longer see it. Colburn continued to walk, entranced. His eyes scanned his surrounding, attempting to locate a hint of whatever it was that saved his life. The darkness slowly ate up most of the forest and the trees began to thicken. Colburn’s face was being whipped with branches, and a few tears escaped his eyes. He began to cry, but could not find a communicable reason. As Colburn continued to walk, he saw animals and birds only a distance. A tail of a squirrel or a quickly passing bird was as much as he was able to see of sentient life in the forest. Soon, he couldn’t see almost anything. His tears continued to flow and obscured his vision. His mind still could not grasp any thought, and he walked on. After an indiscernible amount of time, Colburn began to notice that certain trees didn’t look like they belonged in a Minnesotan forest, but in a jungle. With each mile, more and more trees began to look tropical. The sounds of the birds become more exotic, and no more squirrels were anywhere to be seen. Soon, Colburn was walking through a jungle, and no thoughts of turning around even remotely approached his mind. The trees thinned and the sun began to rise. He ignored the fact that sunrise in his native town was still hours away, and looked at the rising golden orb with wonder. The temperature rose rapidly and palm trees appeared. Colburn’s tears ceased and he could clearly see an end to the forest ahead. He sped up happily and, minutes later, he burst onto a beach. Almost white sand stretched out to his sides and a turquoise, boisterous body of water whispered into his ears. Colburn sat down and tried to remember who he was and what he was doing here. Nothing came. He looked around and saw a small shack half a mile down. The door was open, and inside was a comfortable looking room with a made up bed. Colburn wearily took off his soiled clothes and climbed into bed. He closed his eyes and immediately fell asleep. the mrs.[/quote]