Marcy

It was a bright, sunny, beautiful day outside, and Marcy was just glad to be alive. She woke up, stretched, and poked at the cat through the bed sheets with her feet. He gave her an evil, half asleep glare and curled up again, just out of reach of her toes. Marcy giggled a bit at their daily game, then pulled herself out of bed and threw the curtains open. Yes, today was a fantastic day, and she was looking forward to everything it would bring.

After a quick shower, Marcy walked down her apartment stairs in a bathrobe to retrieve the newspaper. For the first time in a long time, the delivery guy had actually hit the steps with his throw. Marcy was lucky; she’d forgotten to slip on a pair of sandals before heading down the stairs and wouldn’t have to walk on the muddy sidewalk to retrieve the paper.

She skimmed the headlines while she walked back up the stairs. Gloom this. Doom that. A typical Friday morning breakfast of contemporary news. She tried her best to shake off the dark mood reading the paper always put her in and instead donned a bright summer outfit for the office. It might only be a sunny day in winter, but no one ever seemed to mind when she dressed for warmer weather – particularly not her boss, Jason.

Marcy smiled as she thought of her too-flirty supervisor while she absentmindedly packed her bag. Typically, she’d pack a lunch, too. But today felt like such a good day, she wanted to splurge and treat herself to a lunch out with her coworkers. Diet be damned, she wanted to have fun.

The cat strolled lazily out of the bedroom and nuzzled up against her ankle, his morning frustrations forgotten as his stomach began to purr on its own. Marcy quickly poured him some breakfast and grabbed a yogurt out of the refrigerator for herself. If she was going to fall off the wagon at lunch, she might as well stick to the healthful plan for breakfast.

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Prompt:

Your character goes to the grocery store, and on the way there meets someone/thing unexpected, which requests something that the character cannot give it. Hilarity ensues.

Story:

Two in the morning and I still couldn’t get to sleep. I sat up slightly and tried plumping my pillow for the hundredth time. It looked so plush, so much like a big, white, Hot Pocket. No wonder I can’t sleep, I thought to myself as I sat all the way up and swung my legs over the side of the bed. I forgot to eat dinner!

I slipped on my slippers and made my way groggily to the kitchen. I wasn’t asleep, but I wasn’t awake yet, either. I flicked the light on in the kitchen and clenched my eyes shut against the insanely bright light. I walked over to the counter, now more awake than I had been while tossing and turning in bed, and pulled down the peanut butter. I had fresh jelly in the fridge and managed to get it out while simultaneously pulling a knife from the silverware drawer. I opened the breadbox to take out some slices to make my soon-to-be midnight sandwich.

I was out of bread.

I left everything on the counter and walked to the front door. The grocery store is open 24-hours a day, so I threw on a robe and walked out into the night. It’s a little shop down the street on the corner, about two blocks away. I’ve made midnight food runs before; apparently forgetting to eat is a habit of mine.

About halfway down the driveway I was stopped by a dog. It looked half-shaved and I could see his ribs.

“Gimme a sandwich,” the dog said, baring his teeth.

“There’s no way you just talked, I’m not that crazy”

“Gimme a sandwich,” he repeated, standing now and blocking my way down the driveway. The effort to stand was so much he wet himself and fell down again in the puddle.

“I would if I had bread,” I responded, imagining a stranger would have me committed if he saw this.

“Then take some out and gimme a sandwich”

“You don’t understand,” I started, trying to take a step towards the street at the same time.

Just then, the dog lunged at me. I was caught off guard, he could barely stand a moment ago and now he was flying towards my throat, screaming “SANDWICH!!!” at the top of his lungs.

I fell backwards and suddenly everything was dark. It was probably because I was lying on the floor in my bedroom. I reached to pull myself up on the nightstand and knocked a plate to the floor. I stood up, then bent over to retrieve my plate … and the half-eaten peanut butter and jelly sandwich it had been holding.

Richard was furious. Alan had lied to him. The next time he saw Alan, he knew he’d kill him. Wait. Richard stopped and analyzed that last thought. It wasn’t his. IT was roaming more freely now, pulling against ITs weakening chains and trying to assert control. Richard’s momentary lapse into anger gave IT just what IT needed to rear ITs ugly head and plant the murderous thought.

Richard was angry, true, but he didn’t want to kill his friend. Alan had been the only one to believe him. The only one who really understood what was going on in Richard’s head. To kill Alan would be to lose himself to IT. To give himself over to the pure animal rage that fueled ITs bloodlust.

No, Richard didn’t want to kill Alan, but he certainly was upset with him.

Richard cleared the office as quickly as he could. It was easy. There were three guards in the room, one watching security feeds, the other two playing cards in the back. Richard walked in the room and reached out into their minds. It was easy enough, no one’s thoughts were very guarded. He placed a thought in the back of their minds, small, like a seed.

Then he pushed on the rest of their minds, making the seeded thought grow until it became their own. Suddenly, all three needed to use the bathroom. It was the sudden, urgent need that comes after eating too many chili dogs or drinking too much during a football game. The three guards forgot themselves, given over to pure biological necessity, and fought their way out of the room.

Richard smiled and locked the door behind them. He had the office to himself. Free to search the computer for mention of Cari’s name and location. He sat down at the computer and hit the space bar a few times to wake it up. Then he started his search, the old-fashioned way. Read the rest of this story »