Short Stories, Tall Tales

Gloomy Monday

Gloomy Monday. Gloomy, odd, still Monday. I just couldn't shake the fog from my mind as I stared blankly at the spotless void that was my new word document page. I've a writing assignment due in three hours and I can't seem to focus my brain on the subject at hand. Something keeps drawing my attention up and away from the screen. It's probably my eyes protesting the strain of an unblinking stare at computer-generated white. Idly, my fingers tapped out the bass line of my favorite song as I try to drag myself back into the moment. Tap, tap, tap. Fortunately for me, this Monday seems to be capitalizing on the fluid relativity of time perception. A phenomenon that makes it very easy to repeatedly drag myself back into the same moment. Over and over again. Tap, tap, tap. Back again to the blank screen and empty moment that can't seem to pass. Clocks don't tick, today.

I made the decision to stand something like several seconds before my lower extremities deciphered the message from my brain. It felt nice to move. So nice, in fact, that I moved right out of the room. Right out of the house. Right into the dismal nature of a southern storm enroute. The misty haze of humidity that rose off the ground mingled with sepia-toned pollution just above the horizon line, embracing the moisture-thick sky in a warm grey. It was the uncomfortable kind of beautiful that only happens on a still day. A gloomy, odd, still day. I stepped off the concrete on the carport, out from the protection of the shingled roof. Unusually dry grass crunched softly beneath my feet as I moved further into the yard.

My eyes weren't closed but I couldn't see. Not in a way that mattered, anyway. My mind was still unfocused enough to influence my vision's point of convergence. The air was still. It felt like the storm had sucked all of my potential energy up into the amassing swirl of darkness above. Despite that stillness, the soft tinkle of wind chimes reminded me that the quiet nebula of existence I had stepped into wasn't quite right.

I inhaled, willing myself to look out beyond the obscurity of space that lies just outside the boundaries of clarity. My head turned but lacked the urgency I thought I had summoned with the movement. My body twisted and my whole world went with it, bent at the axis, but I didn't fall. Didn't even stumble. My fingers twitched, once again tapping out the bass line of my favorite song. Tap, tap, tap. The hollow echo that sounded wasn't the reverberation of impact between my fingers and thigh. Surely, it couldn't have been. The echo rose as each new wave of taps overlapped and resounded with growing ferocity. I blinked. My world shifted again when a splash of wet kissed my cheek. With maddening reputation, drops of wet met the surface of my skin. Drops turned to drips, rolling along the contour of my face and hands, seeping into the fabric of my conscious mind. Sinking into my hair and spreading like an inverse wildfire, separating lock and strand.

All at once, the stolen potential energy was thrust back into my world and slithered up my spine with a residual shiver. The wet that now soaked my hair washed from my eyes all that remained of my once debilitating fog. The tap, tap, tap of rain against my skin pulled me back into the confines of my clearest reality and jump started the motion in a moment that had otherwise stood very still.

In a mad dash of wild will, I spun and sprinted for the cover of my shingled carport roof. Another shiver ran through me as I moved through the door I'd left open not moments before. The cool wind that pursued me righted the wrong of stillness that no longer lingered in my peripheral understanding. The soft tinkle of wind chimes reminded me that the quiet nebula of existence I had just stepped out of wasn't quite conventional.

Gloomy Monday. Gloomy, odd, still Monday. I just couldn't shake the clarity of bewilderment from my mind as I sat down at my desk and began tapping out my thoughts.

Tap, tap, tap.