DEADER THAN A DOORNAIL

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Mystery and Crime  |  House: Booksie Classic
I AM MOST LIKELY TO BE LYNCHED FOR THIS

Submitted: October 13, 2018

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Submitted: October 13, 2018

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DEADER THAN A DOORNAIL

BY

DONALD HARRY ROBERTS

 

1

I woke up at my desk. The same desk I have been occupying for 6 years. It was 6 pm on the 6th day of June, 2006. The data entry pool room was dead silent. The shift was over. The night shift had been cancelled two weeks earlier due to cut backs. I was on the night shift but had enough seniority to bump a new day shifter.

I was alarmed at the abundance of sixes in the moment, a number I am sure you can put it in its eerie light without me explaining. I also thought it was odd that everyone left me at my desk sleeping or at least not conscious of the current reality.

My nightmare hung heavily in my conscious mind. It had seemed so…so…so…realistic but surreal at the same time and I felt a little dislodged.

2

I put my station in order then began my journey home which included a seventeen floor elevator ride to the lobby of the MX data processing building. A guard was at his desk in the lobby and shot me a look that said, “You shouldn’t be here but there was a glint of recognition so he did not accost me.

Outside the evening was bright and sunny and I enjoyed the warmth and freshness of the out-doors after a day of air-conditioning.

I took my usual route going straight out to the sidewalk then turning right toward the intersection, the one where in my dream I got plastered by a hit and run driver.

As I approached the intersection my phone buzzed announcing I had a text message. I took it out just as I reached the curb at the intersection, took a look at the light which was green then answered my phone.

 

 

 

3

I sensed someone beside me trying to pass me then I was grabbed by the elbow and yanked back three feet. The fellow that pushed past me took three steps into the intersect and got creamed by a speeding car.

I froze for a second then turned to see who had pulled me back and a character from my dream stood before me with a smirch on her face. It was my guardian angel. She said, “I told you I would help you.”

I reached out to put my hand on her shoulder and thank her profusely but instead of my guardian angel it was the neighbourhood shopping cart homeless lady’s shoulder that my hand grasped.

“Are you thankful enough to give me five bucks?” She asked. I laughed aloud and said, “No. At least a twenty and I reached in my pocket for a bill. Three twenties came out and gave her them all.

Then things got interesting.

4

I caught a glimpse of the person driving the car. It was the secretary at purgatory administration office. Across the intersection to the left was Inspector Jarron Janice and to the right was Patrol Officer Mickie Dantly. The face/ head of the victim was too smashed up to recognized but what I did recognize was that my six minute nightmare had a very ethereal quality to it and was possibly some exotic force of nature giving me fair warning of my pending demise. The fly in the ointment was the guardian angel which was a factor that gave the whole shemozzle a quality of realism that scared the beejeepers out of me more than nearly getting smucked by the car.

5

I remained where I stood because I felt it my duty. After all I was a witness to a deadly accident. But as I watched Patrol Officer Danty approaching with her eyes fixed on me instead of the corpse another realization came over me. My nightmare had other plans for me. It had enlightened me to the horrors of the real world and somehow Danty knew I was onto her. The inspector had that same accusing look and I sensed that if I did not skedaddle right then and there I would end up a corpse beside the hit and run victim.

So I ran faster than I had ever run in my life but after only a hundred yards I skidded to a halt. Something was dreadfully wrong because if I really ever ran like that I would keel over deader than the deadest dead. My heart would seize up like an old rusted gear box.

 

 

6

Danty and Janice were stalking toward me. They knew I knew they were both dirty cops. How I knew would never hold up in a court of law but it was holding up in the court of bad cop injustice.

They had their guns drawn and people were clearing out of harm’s way giving the two bad cops a clear shot at me. Then the funniest thing went through my head. “How many times am I going to die before I am actually dead?”

The thought faded quickly and the next thing I knew my guardian angel was hovering over me. She grabbed me by the shirt collar and ripped me out of the scene. The next thing I knew I was standing in the bathroom over of the train station over a urinal doing what men do when standing over a urinal minding my own business and reading some pretty juicy graffiti.

7

I finished doing my business and went out into the main hall of the train station. I have to tell you if you think you are confused reading this you should try and get how I was feeling. I seemed I was jumping from one nightmare to another. And just as I was deciding that I was caught up in a looping, gyrating nightmare two uniform cops rushed in on me, grabbed me by the elbows, lifted me off my feet and escorted me out of the building straight into an unmarked patrol car.

I could smell booze, armpits and farts and had no need to ask whose car it was. But much to my surprise it was not Janice who climbed into the driver’s seat. It was the driver of the hit and run car…aka…the purgatory secretary. Then a stranger got in and introduced herself as my lawyer in purgatory, Ms Shamballs.

Said I in a very misangered voice. “Excuse me but I am getting really, really mentally pretzelized here and would really like to know what the hell is going on.”

8

‘Well if you can’t figure it out yourself I suppose I will have to tell you. You and me and everyone in this ridiculous story is getting jacked around and we have all decided to fight back.” Ms. Shamballs lectured.

“Fight back. Against what or who?” I interrogated.

Shamballs looked at the driver and asked. “Really, is it possible this guy can be this stupid?”

The driver/secretary replied. “Apparently it is possible. Maybe we should just kick him to the curb and let him figure it out for himself.”

“No. We cannot do that.” Shamballs replied then took a gun and shot me. The bullet went into the flesh of my shoulder and out the back. Then she fired again this time putting the bullet in my gut. I wasn’t going to die instantly but we all know about gut wounds so death was inevitable.

“Geez Albert. I am sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. It just happened. We were talking then it just came to me. Shamball shoots Albert, then shoots him again.”

Then the secretary spoke up. “Look Albert. It’s like this.” She was saying but I died.

And there I was back in purgatory only it was different this time. The room was empty except for a desk with an older guy with a lap top.

“Who are you? “ I asked.

My name is Donald Harry Roberts and I have trying my damndest to end this story. You see you are just a figment of my imagination and I was just going to write a quick little story about a guy who dies and has to do some redeeming act so he can move on to his afterlife. But I got about half way through the second part and got totally lost so I tried writing my way out of it but it just kept going. Finally I did the only thing I could do. Kill you off permanently.”

“Gee thanks. You are all heart.” I replied moodily.

“There is a silver lining though Albert. I am going to end the story with you walking off into the sunset. So off you go.”

“What about all these other characters?”

Donald shrugged his shoulder and started typing and I walked away heading into the sunset. But I was not settled because I couldn’t help but wonder what was on the other side of the sunset and what mess that dumb ass writer was going to get me into next.

The end….well…maybe….mrahahaha.


© Copyright 2018 Donald Harry Roberts. All rights reserved.

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