Gone Fishing

{Scene opens on the sound of the timer of the $20 Mr. Coffee pot’s tinny, tiny, sub-audible eh-eh-eh.}

(Main Character [ thinking])
The day is sped up. Locked in a fast-forward button press.
I’ve experienced this before, this time around I’m inclined to record it in some kind of way.
{The house is completely quiet; the evening has made its presence known. Our Main Character has chosen to leave the lights off.}

(Main Character) {opening the drawer in the bedside table.}
“What else is there to do? Besides written word is more believable than the verbal.”

(Main Character [thinking])
I’m also relieving myself of vices for no apparent reason.
This, I think is some kind of conditioning that I’ve ran across, maybe some commercial, billboard, or verbiage. My time of fun is over I think. I don’t know, I know that there is still much to see.
{A doorknob turns, and a door is gently opened in the distance…. the kitchen perhaps.}

(Main Character)
” I have to be careful with my words only for the fact they will be read by someone else. People these days tend to make much outta nothing…. a train of thought that is carried out to it’s matter-of-fact ludicrous conclusion, a simple thought experiment.”
{Sharp and confidently placed footsteps…. new shoes.}

(Main Character [thinking])
I’m starting to feel like my self again. What is that anyway?
Is it independence, the absence of vulnerability? My cloak of anonymity is my security, my piece of mind, my sanity even.
{The footsteps have stopped. Gentle top of table scrapes…. a few seconds later a subtle, but solid “putting back” knock…. the footsteps resume…. this way.}
When did this happen to me? Old age has been a demanding companion, never leaving my thoughts as I plead with him to be kind…. only in secret though.
I picture myself in the very near future in many places, seeking new things, new experiences, wearing sunglasses for Christ’s sake.
Enjoying social content. Using the universe as my loudspeaker; I’m glossing over the intimate details because this is to be a light-hearted retirement.
Yes. I’ve said the word.

(Main Character)
“Retirement. I retire. Pass the baton, close the curtain and leave the stage. I cannot say that it has been fun, you see I have the inability to live in the moment, only the past and future, the present is only a resting point in between.”
{the footsteps have stopped. They are at the door now, the shadow can be seen underneath the door, dress shoes on a shiny wooden floor.}

By Grissom

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