Short Story

Authors notes: In this short story, I attempted to display the fact that one can’t deny their association with their fellow men.  This story illustrates a man trying to hold on to his sanity in a world were everyone’s going mad. 

                Animals rule the streets; Crazed, chaotic, and stupid; all of them.  Luckily I remain sane.  I can control fear, and death is the last thing to fear.  I suppose the news of the end scares people, but craziness can be avoided.  From my apartment I can see them all, running the streets of Manhattan as if survivals possible. All the reports say that “The Cloud” is inescapable, and in such a case I will remain home and drink my champagne as I watch the monstrosities rule the streets. 

                It’s been 11 hours since Asia was last heard.  Whether they are screaming in the darkness or dead where they once stood, no words from them have been received; all because of a storm, which scientists are calling “The Cloud” for clear and evident reasons.  Images have been televised across the world; thick black waves, darker then smoke, and thicker than night’s blackness itself.  Almost like a wave drifting up to shore during a high tide; sticking to the ground.  A mobile wall if you wish. 

DING.  The clock struck one in the afternoon.  Not that I care.  The News said we have until three until the cloud hits Manhattan.  Time to relax, sit, and reflect. 

                Even though I do caress courage against this cloud, I do find myself pondering what’s inside it.  Is it a simple rain storm? Or is it what I expect? Blinding and lethal? Or maybe it’s full of candy for all the girls and boys.   Either way a true spectacle it will be to see it loom over our city and engulf it.

                I look across my living space; smooth white walls and modern furniture; my place of solace.  On the walls hang pictures upon pictures of places and people. My eyes stop at the picture of the Great Wall.  It’s gone now; covered by the Cloud. I grin.

“Guess that wall didn’t work after all.”

Amongst the remaining pictures I spot the one with my wife; a simple women; in L.A for the week with her sister. She probably knows of the cloud to I suppose.  Her sister’s probably spastically crying like she always does; what a stupid person.   Glad I sit in solitude, to enjoy my last hours.

                I now find a dislike arising within me towards the clock.  With its obsessive clicking. Tick Tock Tick Tock. Slight annoyance, but I’ll just tune it out.

                I turn on the radio and all I hear is protocol to remain calm and stay indoors.  Bullshit all of it. Blaspheme.  How would you rather spend the end? Trapped in your house or enjoying yourself?

                Despite the fortune within my household, I find the window becoming more and more interesting, almost persuasive.  People still run on the ground like ants, blind already; blind in the light of day.  One woman falls to the ground and begins to cry. Giving up hope? Balling and holding her kids heads close to her own.  I choke on my champagne a bit.  As strong of a man I am I wish not to see that. I leave the window, but can’t help as I glance back.

                I feel a shower would be nice, warm, and cleansing.  I strip down and walk into the bathroom, shinned to perfection white as ever, slick tile beneath my feet;  The room bright and colorless. The water is instantly warm, and welcoming.  I step in and allow it to flow over me, hitting me, encasing me, holding me tight. I close my eyes and drift off... 

                Peace, serenity; I am enthralled by the warmth…but the blackness is there, in my mind where it grows darker!  Thick black walls moving, spreading, engulfing!  I open my eyes; my heart is pounding, legs stiff.  I laugh a little, but it’s not funny.  Just scared myself a little I suppose, nothing scary about the cloud now is there, regardless I’m done with the shower, I’m just fine.

                My living space seems to be dulling as the day progresses; the white walls now seem to be vanilla in the dimming light.

Ding!  The clock strikes two.  Still time left, no need to fret.

                I walk to the couch where the television stands attentively.  I flick on the T.V but no show appears, just static.  Next channel static.  Next channel static.  Furiously I flicked the remote though the channels, click by click, static after static! Nothing!  This damn remote!  This f***ing T.V!  I throw the remote across the room, and hit the window, which subsequently breaks from the force.  The large window now has a gaping hole, a jagged circle allowing in the noise from down below.  The screams, the cries, the howls quietly wisp through the new hole, luring me back to the window.  I find myself approaching it as someone would a wild animal, slowly, inching towards it. I look down again to see fire.  Cars are tipped; persons lay dead in the street and many still run.  I stood beholding the chaos, mystified, but yet strangely fascinated.  I must look away, attractive though it may be.

                The kitchen is much brighter, safer, and most importantly a distraction from the outside world and the noises below.  I now feel ever so close to the lights; the precious, safe lights.  Still shining as darkness corrodes the earth; reflecting against the white walls and the cherry wood cabinets, elegant and calm, soothing and amorous; humming with a sense of knowledge and order.  I sigh. Long exhale, deep breath.  I need to relax, I still hold my civility.  Then the lights in the room begin to flicker; zapping in and out.  Tormenting me for what feels an eternity until they finally rest, leaving the room in darkness.  The white walls now gray with no light.  The only glow of light exists only from one place; the window.

                I once again approach the window, with no slow of pace.  I watch the people still running; still frantic; clasping under the weight of their own consciousness.  How persuasive the site seems.  I feel my heart pounding, the site driving me; I can’t look away.  Tick.  “What was that?” Tock. “That clock?”  Tick.  “That f***ing clock!” Tock.  “Watching me!” Tick. “Reminding me!” Tock. “Killing me!!!” Tick “Shut up!” Tock. “Shut the hell up!!!!” Tick. “Stop it!!!” I shove the grandfather clock on its side, and stomp on it; stomp on its face; stomp on its arrogance; stomp it too death!  Shattering its legs and breaking its arms, breaking it beyond recognition! The clock now lay broken on the floor, I lurk above it panting like a dog; the hideous murder accomplished.   Swooning, I stagger to the opposite wall, and fall to my knees.  What am I?

                When will it hit? When will it end? I ask as I pace next to the window.  I will die alone.  My wife is gone; my precious, sweet wife.  I love her so, but I can’t say it anymore.  I don’t want to die.  All my friends and family gone, and I will die alone.  A clatter of screams arises on the streets.  I look down, but the commotion isn’t on the ground, rather it’s what is to the east; the cloud.  Worse then I imagined it, blocking out the view as I nears.  Miles away it must be, but from my apartment the vision is all too close.  I stand speechless, motionless, and lifeless in the presence of what is sure to be the end.  It rolls closer savagely.  I scream.  I scream so loud all noise from the world around me is blocked out. I panic.  I wish to run, but there’s nowhere to go.  I am trapped! I run towards my bedroom, slam the door behind me and jump under the covers of my bed; tucking myself under the blankets hiding in the safety of my bed.

I lay here for several minutes knowing of what’s going on outside.  I begin to peel away the covers to look out my bedroom window.  Just in time to see.  The cloud hits.

               

The Cloud