|Really Short Story
||[Apr. 6th, 2008|11:49 pm]
*Alright, one more thing tonight, again from high school, but this time it's a very short story...hence, the title.*
Really Short Story
The night was dark. Not dark as in how it always is, but dark as in a dark type of sensation. A bone-chilling dark. The man sat in it, very lonely. Nothing could have prepared him for what had happened two weeks ago. It was on a night like this, except not quite as dark. He was sitting in the exact same spot, only the spot wasn't barren like it is now. On that spot the man had his car. It wasn't an ordinary car, though, it was a sports car. A Lotus Esprit, to be exact. And it was red, bright red, and deep red. It was so red it cast red light around it, even in broad daylight. The man had saved up for 8 years just to be able to afford the down payment for this car. He then spent half his paycheck every month for the car's payments. Well, anyway, what happened was this: He was sitting in his car, admiring the upholstery, when all of a sudden a bird flew overhead and, just when it was right over the car, it decided to relieve itself. The relieved part of the bird dropped down, making a big splat on the top of the car. The man didn't even see the splat - he heard it. And there was no doubt in his mind what the splat was. Now, two weeks later, there he sat alone, with his car parked in the garage, where none of the neighbors could see it and be green with envy. How cruel life is.