Chapter Seven
Mark shook his head and looked up. The room was the same room, the same curtains, the same table, the same television. He held his head high for a moment and took it all in: Was this the same life, the same world, that he left months ago? The table was solid to his touch. He stood up and rested his hand on the couch and the television. He started when he put his hand on the TV, but unlike the time that Johnny Bunny came out, this time it stayed squat on the orange crate Mark had rested it on.
The light outside was dim, and there was a slight glow in the sky. Sunset or sunrise; he wasn't sure. He wasn't even sure if what he felt was real. A couch, a television, even an empty bag of popcorn, he knew that they were here, but he knew that he had touched them in the Abbey. And Mark knew that if he accepted touching anything in the Abbey, then he was either insane or living in a grey world.
A chime sighed quietly from beneath an old curtain that someone ("me?") had torn from the wall and folded over and over again on top of the kitchen table. Slowly, Mark pulled back the layers. Beneath was his laptop.
"It's okay," he mumbled to Maeve, who was now rubbing against his legs. "It's nothing....it is nothing...it is nothing...". For minutes, Mark looked at the laptop. Maeve lept up to him, and fell asleep against his chest, int he spot between the keyboard and his body. And for a moment, Mark almost smiled, and he almost cried.
With a click of the two switches, Mark opened the laptop like anyone would open a letter from a dead parent. It read "am up to level 3 on guild wars... not playing seriously, just running around exploring and killing things that attack me, or trying to hehehe... shloop!"
The laptop crashed against the wall, casting plaster, small pieces of plastic, and the scent of ozone into the air. Mark wept. His face hidden in his hands and he wept. A small cry rose from his throat, and then, before he left this world for pure silence, and a gamble on forgiveness, he cried "Just don't forget to use your F1-F4 keys... You are too important to not live by them, and if you die without them, I will rise from the grave and avenge you."
Mark shook his head and looked up. The room was the same room, the same curtains, the same table, the same television. He held his head high for a moment and took it all in: Was this the same life, the same world, that he left months ago? The table was solid to his touch. He stood up and rested his hand on the couch and the television. He started when he put his hand on the TV, but unlike the time that Johnny Bunny came out, this time it stayed squat on the orange crate Mark had rested it on.
The light outside was dim, and there was a slight glow in the sky. Sunset or sunrise; he wasn't sure. He wasn't even sure if what he felt was real. A couch, a television, even an empty bag of popcorn, he knew that they were here, but he knew that he had touched them in the Abbey. And Mark knew that if he accepted touching anything in the Abbey, then he was either insane or living in a grey world.
A chime sighed quietly from beneath an old curtain that someone ("me?") had torn from the wall and folded over and over again on top of the kitchen table. Slowly, Mark pulled back the layers. Beneath was his laptop.
"It's okay," he mumbled to Maeve, who was now rubbing against his legs. "It's nothing....it is nothing...it is nothing...". For minutes, Mark looked at the laptop. Maeve lept up to him, and fell asleep against his chest, int he spot between the keyboard and his body. And for a moment, Mark almost smiled, and he almost cried.
With a click of the two switches, Mark opened the laptop like anyone would open a letter from a dead parent. It read "am up to level 3 on guild wars... not playing seriously, just running around exploring and killing things that attack me, or trying to hehehe... shloop!"
The laptop crashed against the wall, casting plaster, small pieces of plastic, and the scent of ozone into the air. Mark wept. His face hidden in his hands and he wept. A small cry rose from his throat, and then, before he left this world for pure silence, and a gamble on forgiveness, he cried "Just don't forget to use your F1-F4 keys... You are too important to not live by them, and if you die without them, I will rise from the grave and avenge you."
VIEW 4 of 4 COMMENTS
onio:
but swirl is yummm eeeeee 
qato:
hah! speaking in tongues. very pentacostal-james-baldwin-esque. i've never witnessed it myself--just as well, i'd probably have a heart attack then and there.