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Saturday, November 13, 2010


Davey Dickson
Monosyllabic Memorial

Crossing the hall, I head for my old room. It's been months since I've lived here, and nothing has been moved in my absence. I glance hurriedly behind me before opening the door. Upon entering my room, I throw down my bag on the bed and go to the window. From here I can see the empty street below. Reassured, I turn to face the room and pace its length, deep in thought. I sigh and drop myself onto the bed, exhausted. My impact on the mattress causes my bag to slide off the sheets and onto the floor.

I close my eyes in a moment of deserved respite. I perk up instantly as I hear a noise. Despite my sudden energy, I have not enough to get up, as I have not slept in days. A creak comes from the closet opposite me. As the door is pushed open, I see him. He is an assassin, vigilante, rogue, killer, and defiler. He answers to no one, and has given up his humanity; he lives by brutality.

As he comes towards me, one word escapes his mouth. One word that tells what he lives for; why he came. One word: illustrating the growing need of a world in crisis. One word to show the end result of my life; the only importance I am to the world and to him. One word definitive of all the effects I have had on the world. One word stating all I am to him, and to most in this unsympathetic world where I find my fate. One word: synonymous with both addiction and survival. One word: the connection between the two separate groups still in this world. One word by which I die.


Story-a-Day is an attempt to bring a small bit of humor and amusement to Mrs. ~brb and Audrey as they fight very serious illnesses. If you have a short, amusing story, please send it to kersley.fitz at yahoo dot com. If you'd prefer, you can drop it in the drop.io (password: challenge) and email me to let me know it's there.
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