Samuel coughed into his palm and smoldered the cigarette butt in the ash tray…

No sooner had he put the last one out than he lit a fresh one.  His eyes felt tired and the brief glimpse of himself he got from the mirror that morning had told him his eyes were bloodshot as well.  He felt like he hadn’t slept in years.  He smothered his face with his palms, like trying to pull his tired face off in favor of a fresher one. 


His mind began to drift and wonder what he owed to Hadley and Johnston.  What had they done except left a perfectly good job during an economic downturn to take a chance on a failure.  Sam deserved what he got, he had not lost an account for Okie Doke, but his ideas and creativity had started slipping months before they let him go.  If anything, Hadley and Johnston were carrying him through the last days of his drunken high life. 


He knew they would be ok, as he stared at the gun.  Samuel sucked on the cigarette and willed himself to stand.  He started pacing, but soon made his way to the counter and opened a drawer.  He sorted through rubber bands, pencils, stamps, and boxes of paperclips until he found two envelopes. 


He set the envelopes on the table and went to the bedroom to retrieve a notepad and a pen.  His heavy feet filled the confined space and echoed off the walls.  The sound brought a strange kind of joy to him, as though he were a child running through the halls of his parent’s old apartment uptown. 


He found a pencil and made his way back to the kitchen.  The steam had ceased rising from the coffee, and he sipped it cold.  He cleared his throat and began writing letters to Hadley and Johnston explaining his actions.  The sound of the city was obscene, even at this hour!


He could not get much farther than the date.  After pacing through the kitchen, he resolved to write their names on the envelopes and let the letters develop in his head.  He anticipated a good 2 hours worth of train for him to brainstorm any how. 


Samuel went to the closet and gathered his thick overcoat, his glasses, his hat, and his cigarette case.  He held the case with his fingertips, balancing and spinning the fine piece in admiration.  Another gift from the war. 


Samuel smiled with pride and slipped the cigarette case and some matches into his coat’s inside breast pocket.  He spun his hat on his finger and plopped it atop his balding head.  He sighed as he passed a picture of he and Loretta in their youth, both of them vibrant and flushed with lavishness.  He paused and kissed his own fingertips.

 He would have to draw a bath and get going soon…

Published on January 26, 2009 at 7:16 PM  Comments (1)  

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One CommentLeave a comment

  1. WOW…. You have an amazing imagination. I was absoutly glued to reading it. Still don’t know what happens but That was really cool and crazy all at the same time…

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