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Life with Arrows

Short story By: saintminya
Fantasy



Bob wakes up one morning to find that he has an arrow affixed atop his head, directing him through his usual routines.


Submitted:Dec 25, 2012    Reads: 6    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   


Life...With Arrows

Bob awoke one morning only to notice a rather large, brightly-coloured red arrow hovering over his head. It was pointing in the direction of his doorway, straight across from the bed he was laying very puzzled in. After a moments consideration, a pondering as to exactly why this arrow was there, and more importantly, just how exactly it got there, he decided to follow it, for getting up and walking straight out the door was usually what he had done upon awakening. He got up, walked out to the door, and noticed yet another brightly-coloured red arrow curving down about through the hallway, apparently in the direction of his kitchen. He stood in puzzlement, as anyone surely would after seeing not one, but two arrows overhead in his own house with no idea how they were even there in the first place. He most certainly had not put those arrows there the night before, surely he would have remembered such a task. Upon examination of this second brightly-coloured red arrow he noted that it lacked any strings to keep it suspended midair as it was. This helped console him slightly, reaffirming himself that there was no way he hung them up and simply forgot about them. Of course, now he was all the more flabbergasted as to how these arrows could even be there with out any form of suspension to keep them in place. He reached out his hand in an attempt to grab it, but failed to do so, for his hand went clean through it. Opting to not linger on this startling matter any longer and get on with his day, he followed the arrow down the hall, again noting that it was not leading anywhere abnormal, but strangely akin to his regular morning routine. When he arrived down through the hall to his kitchen he was astounded at the sight before his very own, very human eyes. Before him, in the kitchen to which he normally walked with today being no exception, obviously, were a large congregation of arrows. Now only one of these was a brightly-coloured red arrow mind you, instead all the rest were pale-coloured blue arrows. The first of these arrows, the brightly-coloured red one, led from the door to the coffee maker always set for 8:31 in the am the night before, with the night before being no exception,. As was seemingly being established as a common fixture of the placement of these peculiar arrows, and to which Bob could not help but take note of, as surely everyone would, it was leading him in no particularly unfamiliar direction as in the ordinance of his already well-established morning routine, so he opted to follow it to grab a cup of steaming hot coffee. Overhead, the pale-coloured blue arrow that rested atop the space above the coffeemaker flashed into a brightly-coloured red arrow pointing to his rightful seat at the furthermost end of the table. Bob frantically glanced aback to find that what was formerly the lone brightly-coloured red arrow in the room had vanished. This did not seem to amaze him all that much, so he followed the new brightly-coloured red arrow to his rightful seat at the table to enjoy his morning brew. All the while thoroughly enjoying his daily treat of rich black coffee, he glanced around the room to see if any of the arrows would change. He was a little disappointed to find that none did. However this disappointment did not last long, for the pale-coloured blue arrow that rested only inches above his head flashed into a brightly-coloured red arrow leading to the fridge, from which he normally would pull out the orange juice. As was certainly becoming quite the common attribute of these arrows, the pale-coloured blue one atop the fridge flashed into a brightly-coloured red one leading to the cabinet from which he would normally draw his morning glass. It was certainly no surprise to Bob when the one above the cabinet flashed and pointed to the table where he would usually pour his orange juice into the glass he had just proccured, and then yet another arrow flashed above his head back to his usual morning seat where he had recently enjoyed his morning brew. He then proceeded to drink his morning orange juice without the slightest care of all the arrows still lingering in the air eagerly awaiting him to finish the task at hand for the next one outlining in his morning routine to flash and commence the next task.





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