A Little Something for Christmas

Savvyrascal

Honorable Pirate
So, The time is near..... I thought I might dig out this short story I wrote wayyy back in December 2010 for your entertainment! So without further ado.... Please enjoy!
~ Rascal



Just another Job



It was dark.
And eerily quiet, but it was the darkness that was hardest to bear.

Lights flashed weakly on and off in an intermittent pulse; One that if you looked for long enough, would burn its pattern into the back of your eyes.

He'd always hated coming to places like this... It was the sort of place where getting fat and drunk were the easiest things in the world to do. It was always at the last minute too. 'Just for once' he had thought to himself on numerous occasions 'Just once, I'd like to be able to get these jobs done sooner'.

No matter what he tried - when he tried - it never made a blind bit of difference; and he always ended up in the same maddening rush.
It was enough to drive a person to drink.

He scanned the room. Nothing apart from shadows leapt out at him. He knew from past experiences that this was not always the case.
Next, he checked for objects around himself - anything that with just one careless step, could alert someone to his presence. There was nothing that could be easily seen.

Very carefully, He took a step forward....
The sound of needles crunched sickeningly underfoot. He winced with disgust; Why did these people do this to themselves?
He knew that some poor sod would have to pick them up... Someone would need to physically get down on hands and knees, and touch this crap!
It wasn't the douchbag who's job it would be that he felt sorry for; Why should he care an iota about these insignificant lives? They didn't give a darn about him.
It was his knotting stomach that concerned him now.

His clothes felt heavy on him; as did the sack he was carrying. He thought it odd that he'd forgotten about that sack. It was unforgettable in its ugliness; It matched the clothes he felt he had been forced to wear - perfectly.

A few more careful steps, and he reached his primary objective site.
He lowered the sack gently to the floor; opened it, and pulled out the first of six packages that were to be left, and slowly knelt down.
Lifting the object to his ear, he heard a faint ticking.
He smiled to himself.... These little bastards were going to get exactly what they deserved. This was going to be the kind of surprise you don't forget in a hurry; Just rewards for playing games, and messing people around for the past half a year.

He distributed the five remaining packages around the objective, taking his time to get everything just right.
He was in a cold sweat when he finished.

All this sneaking about was tiring, and his clothes now felt uncomfortably tight. He stood back up, feeling like a very old man.
The dizzying sensation that accompanies a tobacco smokers habit - The term "Head rush" quietly escaped his lips and slapped him in the face, nearly sending him back to the floor. He had never taken up that particular vice, but as he regained his balance he vowed to give it a try.

Looking down, he saw them.... Two needles stuck out of the knees of his trousers.
A wave of nausea engulfed him as he pulled the offensive objects out and dropped them to the floor. It was strange, Only one of them had actually penetrated his skin, and even then it was only the very tip.... But he could feel its poison burning into him. He remembered seeing a chair earlier on, so rubbing at his injured cap; he went over and sat down.

It was a comfortable chair with a side table next to it. It looked as though someone had not long left the room; there was a glass tumbler with some dark liquid inside, and a snack on a small side plate. He didn't know how much longer he had before he got interrupted, but he picked up the glass and smelled the contents. The sweet warming aroma of Brandy hit his nose.
He had to do it... He had to taste it. One day he would have to give up the booze, but that day wasn't today.
He took a small sip.

It gently flowed down his throat; warming his palate, and going to work on his olfactory system. Then, unthinking - he picked up the snack and took a bite.
As he chewed, he let his gaze wonder. There was by far, too many ornaments.... way too much crap dotted everywhere the eye could see. It was as though a short sighted television Room make-over specialist, had been employed - by some long sighted moron.
It was quite tidy though..... A real shame, as tomorrow morning it would literally look like a bomb had hit it.
A wry smile played across his face.

He hadn't noticed half the glass of Brandy disappear while he was still lost in thought. He threw the last bite into his mouth and stood up, checking his knee was capable of supporting him. He'd have to look out for signs of possible infection, but other than that, it seemed ok.
Picking up the glass, he finished the rest of the liquor in one swallow, and placed it on top of the plate.

It was only a couple of millimeters.... but it slipped slightly, making a louder than normal clank of glass on ceramics. He instantly held his breath; and stood perfectly still, fearing the worst...
A minute passed, then two... Nothing. Perhaps he'd gotten away with it?

As he took the few steps toward the ugly sack, He heard it. Just once.... But it was a definite floorboard squeak. He'd been rumbled....

The light switch was thrown on - 'darn these places with no interior doors' rushed through his mind, as he stared at a small seven year old boy; blinking unbelieving at the man in-front of him.
The small boy must have realized what he was seeing, because now his eyes widened....

Knowing what was about to happen, he looked at the boy but said nothing. He raised a gloved hand to his lips, motioning for the boy to stay silent and waited only a second for the boy's response.
The boy, still wide eyed - nodded...
This was good, he thought. Then he reached for his sack, smiled at the boy and disappeared .

"Wow!!" the boy said quietly. "Bye Santa".
 
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Savvyrascal

Honorable Pirate
Many thanks to Katnypp, Luna, Shamus and Kate Daggersharp for taking the time to read and comment, or react.... It's always great as a confidence builder for me, especially because of the amount of time I spend with writer's block... Always resulting in huge gaps between the things I write (as of late). So again, thanks - and have a fantastic Christmas everyone.
~ Rascal
 

Shamus The Brute

Site Founder
.... It's always great as a confidence builder for me, especially because of the amount of time I spend with writer's block... Always resulting in huge gaps between the things I write (as of late). So again, thanks - and have a fantastic Christmas everyone.
~ Rascal
To love to write and to try and become a "writer," you have to believe in yourself - @Savvyrascal - even when everyone else and their (3 legged) dog does not! The reason being, it takes great courage to share your thoughts/ideas/expressions with others online at the expense of open criticism, mockery, trolling, and the like (for that is to be expected).

Never allow OTHERS to discourage you...to bring you down...nor to make yourself doubt, in yourself! ;) Everyone else, can go and just bite the big one!!!
 

Savvyrascal

Honorable Pirate
Shamus - Thanks for the encouragement, it's always a great booster to read this kind of reply. Oddly though, it's not a lack of belief in myself that has really been a problem (I think) mostly - just that bane to any and all who plop words out.... The Dreaded writers Block. While I tend to be my own worst critic at times, this short wanted out in 3 hours... And wouldn't even let me make much in the way of corrections. Before I knew it, it was online 😅 But I have to say, The story was so much fun to write - from start to finish that I never had a problem sharing it. This was (also) the first of my writing I ever let anyone outside of my loved ones read.... weirdly enough, it gave me the courage to write more without making loads of changes, and second guessing etc. We can blame this piece for any poetry I've subjected the online populace to since, Lol. Did any of that make sense? (Gone 6 am and no sleep.... Lol)
~ Rascal
 

Shamus The Brute

Site Founder
Shamus - Thanks for the encouragement, it's always a great booster to read this kind of reply. Oddly though, it's not a lack of belief in myself that has really been a problem (I think) mostly - just that bane to any and all who plop words out.... The Dreaded writers Block. While I tend to be my own worst critic at times, this short wanted out in 3 hours... And wouldn't even let me make much in the way of corrections. Before I knew it, it was online 😅 But I have to say, The story was so much fun to write - from start to finish that I never had a problem sharing it. This was (also) the first of my writing I ever let anyone outside of my loved ones read.... weirdly enough, it gave me the courage to write more without making loads of changes, and second guessing etc. We can blame this piece for any poetry I've subjected the online populace to since, Lol. Did any of that make sense? (Gone 6 am and no sleep.... Lol)
~ Rascal
I understand. ;) Writer's block affects us all.

Trust in your instincts and too, let your passions drive you. Also, place yourself in the shoes of your readers from time-to-time (for in doing so, this gives you 'perspective' with how your writing is perceived and comes across. The great difficulty - I find - is in conveying an idea or thought understood by ALL generational types. A person's level of maturity, it seems, varies from one reader to another).

Writing is just an extension of yourself so be sure to include "yourself" into your own style of writing. As such, I feel you did a great job with this and I hope, and encourage you, to continue to share more. ;) Looking forward to it - my friend. "Merry Christmas."
 
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