I was hoping to post one I wrote earlier, but, while I’m still working out the kinks of the new machine, this one’ll have to do for now. I find my writing lately to be rather personal, but I think it’s all coming out rather entertaining nonetheless. May you enjoy!
Pile of Bills
The stack of bills had cornered me in the alleyway as it slowly closed in. The massive pile was no less than ten feet high, six feet across, and aside from the numbers of amounts due, and names of debt collectors, the one discernible feature of this gigantic creature was its huge, gaping mouth taking up almost the entire length of it body. I crouched down against the brick wall at the end of the alleyway, filled with terror, as the creature made up of the piles of my bills slowly made its way forward to devour me. It’s shadow engulfed me as its body loomed overhead, the thing no more than four feet away. Then, at the very top of this stack of debt, two piles rose above its mouth on either side, as though forming something like eyes. It stopped its forward movement, “looked” down at me, and spoke, “Really?”
I awoke in a cold sweat. It was six-o-clock in the morning, and I didn’t have to be awake for work for another hour. I thought about my desk where my bills lay in wait for me in the next room, and, begrudgingly, tried to force myself back to sleep. I tossed and turned, and maybe was able to get another 20 minutes when, groggy, I awoke to the piercing shriek of my alarm clock.
I hurried passed the room containing my desk as I got myself ready for work. Shower, shave, quick breakfast, and to my car for a full day of drudgery that I could be grateful for; something to keep the real stack of bills at bay. And, today was payday. It was some peace of mind while in transit to remember that even as I was driving, something was being added to my account with which I could beat off the stack of bills, at least temporarily . . .
When I got home that night I went to my office space so that I could see the effect my last week of efforts had made on my account, and see what I could offer my ever-hungry pile of bills.
I logged onto my computer and went to my bank’s website. As I was looking at what I had in my checking account, and contemplated who I could afford to pay something to this week, I heard a voice come from the side of my desk, “Seriously?”
A chill went through me as I froze. Ever-so-slowly I looked to where the sound had seemed to come, there at the left-most part of my desk where my stack of bills lay.
“Yeah, I’m talkin’ to you!” It spoke, I saw it! Two “Cs” for eyes with slashes over them for eyebrows. Zeros made up its mouth as it seemed to seperate itself from the piece of paper under it as it spoke. “Look pal, I’m all of three different pieces of paper. Stop lookin’ at me as though I’m about to chew off your flesh and spit out your bones! I don’t even have teeth for cryin’ out loud!”
What could I say? On the one hand it had a point. On the other hand, it was speaking to me!
“Look, I could understand you cowering if I was ten-feet tall and nothing but a mouth, but come on! And speaking of ten feet with a mouth, I’m all of three loans! I know, I know, student loan, car loan, and waaaaay too much on your credit card, so you’ll be paying me off for a while, but I’m barely three pieces of paper! How the heck can even your subconscious make me out to be ten-feet high? I mean, really?”
“Okay, so maybe you’re not that scarey, but you’re inanimate. It’s still pretty creepy that you’re talking to me . . .”
“Yeah, well, let’s make it a one-time thing, eh? Look, you’re young, your credits good, your job let’s you pay off at least the minimums, and eat, and have a roof. What are you worried about? By the time you’re done payin’ me off you’ll be able to buy a house your credit will be so good! You don’t need to sell your leg so you can buy somethin’ to eat tomorrow. Relax, would’cha? “
Despite the weight I felt on my shoulders, the years worth of work those three little slips of paper represented, it was right; I certainly wasn’t about to go hungry. Nor was I going to have to give up the new CD I wanted to buy, or the concert tickets. I shrugged, looked at the creepy mini-stack and said sincerely, “Thank you for putting yourself in perspective. I guess you’re really helping me grow in every way possible even if I do think you’re a little loomy . . . and creepy when you start talking to me when I was pretty sure you weren’t capable of doing that. And by the way, please tell me you’re the only inanimate object capable of speech . . .”
“Like I said a one-time thing, don’t mention it. As far as anything else ‘inanimate’ speaking to you goes, let’s just say it’d be a good idea to clean out your fridge, or else something legitimately taller than you, talking to you, might give you a heart-attack . . .”
And I did clean my refrigerator out that night . . . thoroughly. And I’ve kept it clean ever since. Quite frankly, I never have been able to look at an inanimate object the same way, but thankfully, neither have I ever been quite so anxious for the bills to stop coming.
As I finished writing this story, this was the song playing in my head.
Namaste!
Tygarjas Twyrls Blog 