Boring as Life

sighz... still got quite a bit of work left... and i haven't completed the Fairy Stories yet have i? oh well... oh and for the record.. the fairy tale news thing was my idea first... well actually i just came up with headlines but no story... anyway... last night before i went to sleep i felt like writing something... but only got round to it today, but only some of it is done... i got distracted and started reading Clancy's Rainbow Six half-way... so i decided i had better not finish the story under the influence of such writing... i haven't even gotten to the part that inspired me to write... sigh, oh well... the music from the movie Ray is so distracting...oh and the story's called Boring as Life...

Click. He snaps on the light. Harsh orangey-yellow stabs at his eyes for a moment. He looks about the familiar, boring kitchen. Are there lizards? On the floor, maybe, like the ones he had seen dashing for cover the other day. Or perhaps they could be hiding under the refrigerator? Better there than under his foot, he thinks, and shudders figuratively. He watches himself step into the room, half-reflected in the windows. There is no use wondering if the ones across, with bright light and shadows on bunks, were there. It would bother him, sometimes, but not tonight. He turns, slightly, and reaches for the cup drawer. As always, there are no cups left in the drawer – he supposes – only the dainty little porcelain tea-cups. He had used them before, but decided they were too small. Somehow, though, the drawer feels heavier as he tugs on the tiny curve of metal that is meant to be a handle. There is, amazingly, one cup left, looking lonely and covered in those field grasses of sepia tones and black and purple flowers. He contemplates; he is not accustomed to using such pleasant ones, just the plain blue and white ones that always seem to be breaking every once in a while. He takes it in his hand, and carefully fills it with the cold milk from the fridge before replacing the carton. The door is nudged closed and he hears the gentle thud of attracting magnets with ears that have long taken such sounds for granted.

He liked to drink the milk in one gulp; it seemed to bring out the taste more. This time, though, his teeth seemed to scream with shock, right to the very roots. Far too cold, they said. He would have to wait a while, although, as he glanced at his cup, he realized he didn’t have much left to drink. No matter, really...

maybe i'll finish the story one day... the writing somehow... isn't like bing's... he's good man, he's good... pretty disheartening looking at his totally bombastic vocabulary... whoa..