Reads: 106  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Memoir  |  House: Booksie Classic

pretty sure it was Evan Williams in my glass...i no longer live in that house, which is probably for the best

Submitted: February 15, 2018

A A A | A A A

Submitted: February 15, 2018



He was embarrassed by how excited he got from advancing a single board game piece a single inch. Especially since he was by himself playing chess against a computer. There weren’t many things that thrilled him quite like finding that small, seemingly insignificant pawn movement that would reverberate with the fullest extent of his intent across the 8 x 8 board. Pawn to a6! He emphatically plays. He wanted so badly to share his joy with an accepting and interested ear. Who would even care, he wondered. So he finished the game (a draw).


He wished he could feel something else besides loneliness. But he was alone. At this moment. Alone. “Hellooooooo”, he yells to no one.  SHUT UP, no one replies. Who cares that you are by yourself? No one. Why should they? We shouldn’t! No one filled his head with antagonizing words. “Alright,” he gasps to no one. “I’ll try to not be bothered by no one.” Nothing.


“I have a vibrant social life,” he bawls. “I’m well-liked, people desire my company.” Then he pants, tongue out, and then he sighs. “I’d be better off playing video games” and with that he falls asleep.


He talks in his sleep. “I am sardines.” He drools onto an armrest.  Awkwardly, he shifts a completely numb arm while he repositions his sore neck. He opens his eyes. He has one long blink……and now he’s up and viewing himself in 3rd person. What does this all look like, he thinks. He acknowledges gravity.


Falling back into himself he stands up suddenly and the world goes black as blood rushes to his head.  He has a one more question for no one. “What the hell I am doing?”  And no one reliably replies. 

© Copyright 2018 Leugim. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments: