Tuesday, January 16, 2007

The Beginning

What day was it? Was it Saturday or Sunday? None of these questions truly mattered because James was long past caring, in fact he couldn't remember the last time he truly cared about anything. It was 6:00 a.m. according to his clock and the first rays of the sun began shooting over the horizon and through his window in room 215 of the rundown apartment building. Last night had been a long night, but not unlike many others, where he had gone down to the local tavern to find answers at the bottom of every glass. Something had been different. He remembered something that had seemed out of place last night at the bar, but what was it. It wasn't the smell of the place, which by now had no distinct smell, having been covered by years of odors from various patrons and food, unwilling to be washed away. It wasn't the furniture of the tavern either, although for the first time in years there appeared to be some cleaning going on. Not that it mattered much by now anyways since the layers of grime could never be removed by now. In fact there wasn't to much to find interesting or pleasant in the tavern except for the mind numbing drinks they served in large quantities. By this time James was fully awake and began to get dressed for his morning run. He did not enjoy the company of people and so was glad to find a time when he could run without having to meet very many people. He ran several miles around town trying to remember what had been different about the night before, but at the same time he remembered a familiar feeling, one that he had tried to bury a long time ago. Once James got back to his room he unlocked the door and headed two rooms over, straight to the shower. There was nothing fancy in his apartment, just a few pictures hanging from the walls, a tv (which by now had lost most of its appeal), a table in the kitchen, and a few other pieces of furniture. James stepped into the hot shower glad to feel the pulsating heat from the shower head on his back and stepped out fully awake and refreshed. He went to the kitchen and fixed himself breakfast, but he didn't feel like cooking so he made cereal. Then it hit him. He remembered what had been so strange and yet so familiar the night before. He remembered seeing her...

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

I see how your character is connected to the one from "The Stranger", and I am interested to see how you will develop your charcter in accordance with Mersault. I like your description of the bar, the words and phrases you used brought a very vivid picture of the tavern in my mind. I also like how you ended the passage, and I am very interested in finding out more about this mystery girl.

Will Slack said...

I liked it, especially the cliffhanger. Some of the description seemed out of place considering your character and his thoughts. (like the furnature. That sentence seemed out of place)

I wish you had elaborated with the "Answers at the bottom of every glass," I don't know why he is unattracted to the world.

I like how he's a runner. It provides an excellent setting for your style.

Lauren S. said...

William you spelled furniture wrong... and that bothered me. But Shaun.. I really like this character and like David, I am very interested in finding out who this girl is. I figure everyone probably is by now... anyways, I really like how you described mostly his personality, but I wish I knew what he looked like because right now I am just seeing you but older and less built. I think it's very apporpriate that he is a runner though, I think it is something that you can connect with.

Hobie said...

JASON WEATHERALL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!