by M.E. Frazier
This is the very beginning of story I started writing.
The dimly lit stage drew the faint energy from the room, yet it was faded like an apparition through a fogged glass. Distant echos reverberated softly against fragments of darkness. He stopped to ponder. How ironic, it seemed, that in the most unessential of places: there was light. The man happened upon the building and seeked refuge from the violent wind. It was definitely winter.
He was never considered to be a very strong man, physically. At best he was lithe and fit, but now his body had become entangled in the embrace of emaciation. Still his mind was never a beat behind and so he survived. Had the Earth in fact been inherited by the meek? Another ponderance, but for some other poor body. Honestly he didn't care.
Everything was just as it was. He imagined a film he had seen once. The entirety of a town was frozen in order to achieve the goal of some alien race. Something like that. Except in this particular case the agenda was to test the sanity of a single man.
He was thirty-three, average height. Undeniably he knew this didn't matter anymore. He studied his ID as if a secret code could restore what had been lost. Sometimes it didn't feel so bad. It was a bitter-sweet situation all-in-all. The world had never looked kindly upon him he thought, so in one swift motion all had been forgiven. He was either ambivalent or apathetic. Maybe both. If such a thing existed.
Just a formality. A habit, if you will.
He coughed and rose from the dusty seat. The ceiling above collapsed on top of him.
"Yes ma'am--She's fine--I will, I will--Okay, heh, I love you too. I--I'll talk to you later."
He sat the phone on the receiver. Funny. The advent of cellular phones just couldn't quite kill off landlines. Maybe it was nostalgia. Afterall phones were part of the identity of past eras. He often let his mind wander off into the most senseless topics.
"She says hello."
Why did people tell you to say hello to somebody? They can't respond directly: 'Tell so-and-so hi for me!' then 'Whats-her-name says hi.' response 'Oh well tell whats-his-face I said hi too and ask about the thing for me.'. Next thing you know you're relaying secret messages between these two parties. He did it again.
"--o anyway I'll see you when I get off. Bye."
The door closed before he realized what happened.
He held his hand under the faucet. The water always took a minute to heat up. It irked him. Usually. A pair of eyes stared into his own and his into it. They broke contact to examine the other's mouth, heads tilting in unison to reveal a second set of lips; offset as if his own tried to flee from his face but quickly faded away leaving only a stain. His fingers stroked his face. A kiss. A smile. A grimace. He yanked his hand out of the sink.
It was a mild day, pleasant but unspecial. A slight breeze hurried to greet each passerby with a gentle kiss.
"Hey, it's me! On my way to the office, just calling to say I love you. Uh...so yeah--I love you bye."
The phone disagreed and started a fit.
"Hello? Hey man--I did--Okay--Sure, why not? See you in a bit."