Horace’s morning routine hadn’t varied in more than two decades. First, he purchased a large black coffee in a white cardboard cup at the pastry shop. Next, he walked a half block to Bert’s Outdoor Newsstand to acquire a copy of the Wall Street Journal. He trifolded the paper with the date on the outside and tucked it under his right elbow. Then he took twelve long strides up the street, turned left at the corner, and entered Stevens and Humboldt Law Firm where he held the prestigious title of senior partner. He drank the coffee in his private office. This daily pattern kept him calm and ready for the day’s work.
On this seemingly ordinary Monday morning, a stranger handed him the paper. He hesitated, the quarters firmly gripped in his palm. “Where’s Bert?”
“Vacation.”
“I’ve been buying papers here for years and Bert’s never gone on vacation before.”
“Yeah, I know. But he decided it was time, he ain’t getting no younger, you know.”
Horace nodded, dropped the coins in the stranger’s palm, and turned to leave. He felt odd; his world seemed out of sync. The safety of his office beckoned like the siren’s song to a lonely sailor; but a woman with a cell phone glued against her ear blocked his way. Trapped between her and the newsstand, he tapped her shoulder. Startled, she jerked her arm sideways. A brown leather handbag slipped from her grasp, fell to the ground, scattering the contents over his freshly polished shoes. His right arm flew up as if to protect himself from an attack and his paper fell to the sidewalk.
In horror he watched her grasp the paper, the edges wrinkling under the pressure of her fingers. He felt the familiar tightening of muscles between his shoulder blades. The thought poked at his mind, prodding him to stoop over and help collect the contents of her purse. Instead he retrieved more quarters from his slacks’ pocket, bought another paper, and then sought the sanctuary of work. He stepped off the elevator on the eighth floor and greeted the receptionist with a half smile and nod of his head. Doris or Dorothy? Last week someone had left for maternity leave; there had been too many over the years. He firmly believed nametags should be mandatory.
In his office he set the coffee on a square olive green ceramic coaster that had sat on the upper left edge of his desk for twenty years. He placed the newspaper on the lower right corner. Horace leaned back in the chair, laced his fingers together and closed his eyes. Five minutes of silence before the actual work day began, three hundred seconds to recapture normalcy. He refused to consider the possibility that Bert wouldn’t be there tomorrow.
When he opened his eyes the newspaper caught his attention, reminding him of Bert’s absence. Sharp pains jabbed his stomach. Small balls of acid rolled through his intestines inflicting increasing amounts of discomfort. An army of a thousand feet marched up his spine with heavy steel-soled boots; when they reached his neck they attacked with battering rams. A heavy throbbing began in his temple and traveled back across the top of his head, tumbling down in a cascade of anguish. His left eye twitched. A small tic began beneath his other eye.
He opened the bottom left-hand drawer and stared at the ivory-colored manila folder that hid “it”. No one knew about it. “I know, I know,” he whispered. “I promised. I swore an oath.” Small beads of sweat covered his brow. One salty drop traced a path through his eyebrow. “I meant to keep the vow; after all, I’m a man of my word.”
Another thousand feet joined in the attack on his spine. The crescendo of pain coursed through his body. “What other choice do I have? Who can help me? I am helpless before this onslaught on my sensibilities!” He slid his hand beneath the folder and let his fingers touch it. A promise of sweet revenge invited him to caress it, to feel its power to bring order back into his life. Its very presence invited him to surrender.
Another jolt of pain gave him the courage. “I will do this. No one can stop me. No one.” His fingers gripped it, and he savored the release of adrenaline. Horace stood up, filled with courage and determination. It lay on his palm. Innocent. With trembling fingers he slid the brown wrapper off, folded back the silver foil, and took a deep breath. “I won’t even say I’m sorry. I’ll just do it and bear the consequences.” With a smile, he bit into the chocolate bar.
Anne Marie Gomez owns a business that designs custom gardens for people’s homes. She also raises a variety of flowers from seed and enjoys sharing the seedlings with other home gardeners. Her free time is devoted to writing, writing, and then more writing. She has had several short stories published in various magazines.
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20 Responses to “NEWSPAPER PLEASE • by Anne Marie Gomez”
Comments
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January 3rd, 2009 at 1:15 am
Anna: I had the feeling, at the end, that this was the intro to a larger story; even so, it’s a sweet piece of writing.
January 3rd, 2009 at 5:40 am
I thought the ending was a bit of an anti-climax. A chocolate bar? I was getting all psyched up for him to jump out the window, or pull out a gun and shoot up the office, or something like that.
January 3rd, 2009 at 7:26 am
I really liked the way you showed his feelings of dispair. Good story.
January 3rd, 2009 at 9:23 am
Hi Anna, I liked your writing style but I also felt that you could have made more of this intriguing character and the great setup you achieved for him. That said, I did enjoy reading it.
January 3rd, 2009 at 9:58 am
Anne Marie, I LOVE your amazing ability to describe so succinctly that I am right there and feel the same sensations as the character. It is truly one of your many gifts! I enjoyed the story completely and felt the quarters and walked alongside as if I were ‘in’ the story! Surprise ending which you are also adept at and glad it wasn’t violent! hugs, Conni Su
January 3rd, 2009 at 10:53 am
Anne-Marie,
What a terrific style you’ve developed. I really enjoyed how you made me feel as I were watching this unfold on the big screen. The story felt very compelling and significant, so I was a tiny bit disappointed that the ending didn’t quite live up to the writing.
January 3rd, 2009 at 11:20 am
This story took my mind into those places where I didn’t think the story would go. I grew serious with the beginning and laughed loudly at the end! Excellent writing and even better reading.
January 3rd, 2009 at 12:31 pm
Another winner by Anne Marie. Great use of imagery and an ability to keep the reader wanting to know what is going to happen.
January 3rd, 2009 at 12:33 pm
I liked this a lot, Anne Marie. Maybe it’s just me, but I found the ending satisfying. To this character, such the chocolate indiscretion would provoke this amount of angst and drama.
Overall, I thought you set the character up well. You used a light, humorous, affectionate tone throughout. Nice job.
January 3rd, 2009 at 1:01 pm
I liked the chocolate ending–very good!
–dj
January 3rd, 2009 at 7:13 pm
I thought the manila envelope contained a letter of resignation, written up specifically for when he felt this way. I sighed in relief until I realized that chocolate could be deadly to some who’s deathly allergic to it.
January 4th, 2009 at 5:14 am
I agree with Greta and wasn’t disappointed by the choc bar end. Some superb sentences here and really well-constructed story and you captured the atmosphere just right. I loved it!
January 4th, 2009 at 11:32 am
Anne Marie,
Great job of writing. You had me every bit of the way, clinging to every word. I cheated though as I started the last paragraph. I jumped to the last word, “Chocolate”, which I love and felt relieved that he hadn’t indulged in drink or drugs… except my drug of choice – chocolate.
Keep writing. You’ve got talent.
JoAnn
January 4th, 2009 at 12:25 pm
Great descriptions! I loved the image of small balls of acid rolling through his intestines, and all the other nervous images!
January 4th, 2009 at 6:38 pm
Thank you so much for your comments. I value them and take them forward into my current project and/or rewrites. Have a great and wonderful new year.
January 5th, 2009 at 10:11 am
Who knew such imagery could exist in such a short story? I could almost feel his physical pain. The ending was a surprise, but I was not disappointed…Chocolate-the drug of choice for many!
January 9th, 2009 at 7:12 am
I want to reiterate what a good, strong writer I think you are. I’ve reread this story and it stands strong in its humor. I really look forward to you becoming a regular contributor to EDF.
January 14th, 2009 at 9:56 am
Fantastic story. Yes, the ending is real. I recently completed a continuing education text on Sugar Addiction which while not an official syndrome, for many people it’s a very real drive. As a former sugar addict now 70 pounds lighter I can say that my creativity gained when my body lost. Write more stories. . .love the unexpected.
January 14th, 2009 at 7:27 pm
Thank you all so much! And yes, I do love chocolate! (in case anyone wondered)
And congrats on the great weight loss, DR KT Erwin. I think the message is reach for a pen and paper rather than the candy bar!
January 16th, 2009 at 4:29 pm
You grabbed me with Horace’s ‘routine.’ I, too, wanted more probably because I didn’t want the story to end. That’s actually a good sign. Enjoyed your writing immensely. Thank you for an enjoyable break in the day.