The Anatomy of Human Desire

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: November 26, 2016

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Submitted: November 26, 2016

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He peered at the screen and hoped with all his heart it would veer up. The stock had plummeted to a new low this morning sending the entire floor into hysterics. Respected and dignified colleagues scrambled to their workstations, large eyes fixated on their mortgages, their homes, and their family’s future. The scent of cheap cologne evaporated to be replaced by pungent sweat that streaked the underarms of those working on the trading floor. Had he enough saved to make it through the Christmas he wondered. There would be cuts that much was for sure.

He looked again biting his nails until his fingertips were sore. He stepped backward to get a better view, almost slipping on discarded pink sheets. The graph began as a long plateau, blissfully unaware of its impending doom as it dipped down into the dark abyss. It soared downward like a falcon hunting its prey with supernatural precision. The car, he thought, he could sell it tomorrow on the way home at the crooked car dealership, it had been known to rig speedometers to save a couple of grand. He quickly did the maths in his head. It wouldn’t be enough, not half enough. The kids would have to compromise on their Christmas presents, for the foreseeable future. He reminisced about the days when he received a spinning top when he was lucky. His father handcrafting for hours and hours until it was just perfect and not one millimetre out of place, Varnished and smoothed by the rough grit of several rolls of sandpaper.

The curve suddenly fluctuated, a bleep in a long line of downward trajectory, was it just his imagination? No it wasn’t, it really did move, now it was beginning to increase. He could see it before his eyes but couldn’t believe it. The lump in his throat subsided as he raced through his memory of where he could find funds to finance this lucrative investment.


© Copyright 2017 Sean Kelly. All rights reserved.

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