Darkness
Just a story about the dark.
Darkness
A man was sitting at the kitchen table working on something intently, all across the table were papers filled with writing and sketches. The kitchen itself was clean and harshly lit by the overhead light, the counter held only a coffee maker and toaster, the dish drainer had only a plate, cup and fork. A glass half filled with water was next to the sink.
The man looked up from his work with a sigh and rubbed his eyes, then forehead before looking toward the refrigerator. He got up, the chair scraping loudly against the floor in the quietness of the small apartment, and opened the door, but it only contained some drinks and what looked like condiments of some sort. After staring at the meager offerings, he closed the door and looked at the clock on the wall. The hands were at 1:42 the second hand ticking seemed loud now that he wasn’t working.
A quick glance at the window showed that it was pitch black outside, no lights, no sound of cars in the distance, no dogs barking, just oppressive darkness out there and the ticking of the clock in the room. He continued to stare at the window, lost in contemplation when his stomach gave an audible rumble. He heaved another sigh and looked around for a moment, his eyes finding the keys he had placed on the coffee table.
A few quick steps brought him to the keys, which he picked up, they clanked together before he slipped them into his palm, his other hand patted the pocket of his pants, wallet still there as he hadn’t taken it out when coming in, so intent had he been to begin working. He would just go out to a grocery store and pick up a sandwich or something; it had been a while since he last ate.
He had all he needed, just going to the grocery store, but for some reason he continued to stand there, staring at the door. It was plain, nothing special, just a door. As he continued to stand and stare, a heaviness seemed to build upon his shoulders and chest making breathing more of an effort, and the silence of the room pressed into his ears causing even the ticking of the clock to fade away, its sound muffled and distant as he stared at the door.
His stomach gave another rumble, and like an alarm waking him from his trance, he shook his head and gripped the keys tightly, their edges biting into his palm, his eyes slid quickly to the inky blackness that was the window as he walked towards the door. His hand that reached out to grab the handle was shaking slightly, but he disregarded it, probably just hungry, was his thought. The door’s handle was cold, very cold, but it turned and swung quietly open on its hinges.
A slight cold breeze followed the opening of the door, washing across his face and hands. He hadn’t moved since the door opened but fear suddenly became tangible in his chest as he stared outside, there was nothing to see, just the darkness, it was night after all. But as he continued to stare a cold sweat broke out on his forehead, his breathing becoming faster and more shallow as his heart sped up, his hands still shaking as they hung by his side.
Ridiculous, he was just going to the grocery store for a sandwich. It was getting even later while he stood there staring at nothing. He grabbed the handle of the door which was still icy cold and started out. As he stepped past the threshold of the door, the solid mass of darkness slid up his leg, then arm and continued to climb up his body past his waist, then chest. It was cold, so intensely cold, that the moment it hit him all his breath was gone and the hand holding the handle let it go in surprise as he tried to stop his forward momentum. But in an instant he was through the door and gone.
The clock now read 3:18, the second hand ticking on quietly in the empty apartment. The refrigerator hummed quietly as it cooled the drinks it contained. The light continued to shine on the table scattered with papers filled with writing and sketches.
The window to the outside was orange with the light from the street lamps that lined the road, and in the distance a dog was frantically barking at something that was disturbing its turf. The door to the apartment stood open and the shine from the headlights of a passing car filled the room for a moment, illuminating the coffee table that had held a set of keys a few hours before, but now there was no one in the apartment and the door remained open to the warm summer breeze.
Darkness
A man was sitting at the kitchen table working on something intently, all across the table were papers filled with writing and sketches. The kitchen itself was clean and harshly lit by the overhead light, the counter held only a coffee maker and toaster, the dish drainer had only a plate, cup and fork. A glass half filled with water was next to the sink.
The man looked up from his work with a sigh and rubbed his eyes, then forehead before looking toward the refrigerator. He got up, the chair scraping loudly against the floor in the quietness of the small apartment, and opened the door, but it only contained some drinks and what looked like condiments of some sort. After staring at the meager offerings, he closed the door and looked at the clock on the wall. The hands were at 1:42 the second hand ticking seemed loud now that he wasn’t working.
A quick glance at the window showed that it was pitch black outside, no lights, no sound of cars in the distance, no dogs barking, just oppressive darkness out there and the ticking of the clock in the room. He continued to stare at the window, lost in contemplation when his stomach gave an audible rumble. He heaved another sigh and looked around for a moment, his eyes finding the keys he had placed on the coffee table.
A few quick steps brought him to the keys, which he picked up, they clanked together before he slipped them into his palm, his other hand patted the pocket of his pants, wallet still there as he hadn’t taken it out when coming in, so intent had he been to begin working. He would just go out to a grocery store and pick up a sandwich or something; it had been a while since he last ate.
He had all he needed, just going to the grocery store, but for some reason he continued to stand there, staring at the door. It was plain, nothing special, just a door. As he continued to stand and stare, a heaviness seemed to build upon his shoulders and chest making breathing more of an effort, and the silence of the room pressed into his ears causing even the ticking of the clock to fade away, its sound muffled and distant as he stared at the door.
His stomach gave another rumble, and like an alarm waking him from his trance, he shook his head and gripped the keys tightly, their edges biting into his palm, his eyes slid quickly to the inky blackness that was the window as he walked towards the door. His hand that reached out to grab the handle was shaking slightly, but he disregarded it, probably just hungry, was his thought. The door’s handle was cold, very cold, but it turned and swung quietly open on its hinges.
A slight cold breeze followed the opening of the door, washing across his face and hands. He hadn’t moved since the door opened but fear suddenly became tangible in his chest as he stared outside, there was nothing to see, just the darkness, it was night after all. But as he continued to stare a cold sweat broke out on his forehead, his breathing becoming faster and more shallow as his heart sped up, his hands still shaking as they hung by his side.
Ridiculous, he was just going to the grocery store for a sandwich. It was getting even later while he stood there staring at nothing. He grabbed the handle of the door which was still icy cold and started out. As he stepped past the threshold of the door, the solid mass of darkness slid up his leg, then arm and continued to climb up his body past his waist, then chest. It was cold, so intensely cold, that the moment it hit him all his breath was gone and the hand holding the handle let it go in surprise as he tried to stop his forward momentum. But in an instant he was through the door and gone.
The clock now read 3:18, the second hand ticking on quietly in the empty apartment. The refrigerator hummed quietly as it cooled the drinks it contained. The light continued to shine on the table scattered with papers filled with writing and sketches.
The window to the outside was orange with the light from the street lamps that lined the road, and in the distance a dog was frantically barking at something that was disturbing its turf. The door to the apartment stood open and the shine from the headlights of a passing car filled the room for a moment, illuminating the coffee table that had held a set of keys a few hours before, but now there was no one in the apartment and the door remained open to the warm summer breeze.