nothing important

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

Submitted: March 09, 2016

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Submitted: March 09, 2016

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  I knocked twice and then remembering that the door in front of me was of my house I entered with the key I had forgot inside. Finding myself in an unfamiliar room with low ceiling and dirty walls I decided not to panic and instead started screaming from the top of my lungs so that to scare the panic out of me. In the meanwhile, but the shouting still going on, I inspected the room which appeared to be rather empty except from a desk and chair in the middle of it on top of a scarlet carpet furnished with irregular shapes resembling figures in a strange dance. I paused my vocal exercises to inquire into that particularity, stepped hesitantly forward and bowed in order to have a closer look. For some reason, the figures seemed pretty much dead when viewed from this close. I decided to try a different angle, all the while being very quiet as if there was someone sleeping, in the room with me. There was in fact. The chair I mentioned above was not not occupied of course. Someone had been there all the time sleeping and ignoring me, which really was not that polite. The people on the carpet started their dance again. The angle I was trying was on top of the chair and its impolite occupant. He started snoring snobbishly. I decided I had had enough and left from the door which led to my house and found myself entering from the window. RATHER WEIRD.


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