Vincent Curtis
Bio
Stories (2/0)
Death by Pop Rocks
Andy sat in his cubicle staring at the monitor. The week was almost over and he was watching the clock, counting down the minutes until he could leave. The ambient buzz of computers faded away as co-workers shut down their machines for the weekend. The absence of the white noise felt odd to him. He listened to the people around him chatting as they gathered their things to leave. Margaret’s weekend would be spent driving her kids to various sporting events. Ryan has been finishing his basement for the past four months. Paul was happy that he finally had a weekend with no plans, he could relax and do nothing at all. Andy could relate to that last one, though he never had plans for the weekend. A small group stopped near his desk debating over which bar to patronize. Andy rolled back in his chair, stretching and yawning loudly. This drew no reaction from the group and they continued on their way. Looking down at his shoes, he slowly scooted back to his desk. No longer in a hurry to leave, he returned to his computer. The only application running was his social media feed. One contact appeared, with the name “Mother,” and the status of “offline.” He heard the office door open and then a moment later the lights turned off. Andy now found himself in near darkness, the monitor acting as a spotlight showcasing that he was all alone.
By Vincent Curtis3 years ago in Fiction
The Locket
He didn’t know why he was looking for it, it was probably lost some days ago. He was digging in his pack for the plastic rimmed mirror when he noticed the absence of the thin golden chain. The braided necklace would routinely be tangled amongst his trifles making retrieving items difficult. The locket probably wasn’t worth much of anything. He wasn’t even sure if it was real gold. He had found it several months ago while searching for food in an unexplored house. Curiously, when he examined the pictures on the walls, none of the women matched the oval photo inside the heart-shaped pendant. She was an older woman, maybe in her sixties, though she still had a spark of youth in her eyes. He supposed she reminded him of his mother. It had been several years since he had thought of his family.
By Vincent Curtis3 years ago in Futurism