Half hour

A half hour gone. A half hour away. A half hour leaving me to sit some more. A half hour of thinking. A half hour of contemplating. A half hour of wondering and wishing. A half hour of listening. A half hour of talking. A half hour of going insane.
I sit and I think and I wonder and I contemplate. I sit up and slouch down and even turn around. I moan, I groan, I rack my brain. So many questions but only one answer, am I really going insane?
I thought I knew the answer, thought I knew it well. I figured this would be a breeze, but it turned out to be a near living hell. This desk is so bland and boring. Nothing but a sheet of paper and a raw chewed up pencil. Wait a minute, somethings missing! O yea, the eraser fell on the floor last time I moved.
Should I pick it up? Nah, what's there to erase? I haven't written much. A few scribbles here and there, nothing I need to touch.
I glance around the eerily quiet room with a tired sigh. A voice says, 'Shut up!' and I do my best to comply.
As turn to face the horrible paper again my eyes catch the old grandfather clock. Another half hour before the horrible song.
I'm tired and bored; what am I doing this for? I stand up to walk away. It's not that simple.
'What are you doing?'
'I'll be on my way.'
'Sit down! I think you'll find it best to stay.'
The voice is commanding and intimidating some how.
So I sit. And continue to look around.
It's all one color, this grotesque little room. A stark white, with nothing on the walls or ceiling. Look up, look down, look all around, nothing but the color of snow.
The few others in the room slowly begin to move. They stand and slump towards a certain corner of the ugly space. One, two, three, and four...there aren't anymore.
Save for me; the fifth; the odd one out. Left sitting here to pout.
'Can I leave?'
'Oh no. Stay till your finished, then it will be time to go.'
What an odd person.
I finally see them now, the source of the voice. With frizzled Grey hair and a large poofy mustache. Their eyebrows are really thick too...kind of scary...like someone who would go boo.
They're staring at me intently. Why not? I'm the only one in the room.
What do they want me to do? Oh right, the paper, woohoo.
I glance back at the clock, about a quarter to. Fifteen more minutes, before the awful thing goes coo.
You'd almost think I'm crazy, not knowing where I am, but I start to wonder how I got here, and where my story began. Why am I afraid of the clock, or this creepy old man? I stand up once again.
'SIT DOWN!'
Oh right, that's why.
But how'd this start? Where did my story begin? Furthermore, how did it lead here, to this place where I can't win?
I look back at the paper, covered in scribbles, but just that, no letters. Or maybe they are, I just am unable to read.
My heart starts to beat; what happened to me? Am I really going crazy, or perhaps just insane?
I try to make out the words, but I try in vain: I'm stuck in this room, unable to leave. I can't finish the paper, because I can't read. Maybe I can write, but turns out I can't even draw.
The man just keeps staring, boring through me like a drill. I'm a piece of dumb wood, stuck in wood hell. I look around once more, at the clock I so dread. One more minute, and then I'll be dead.
How do I know? What makes me so sure? If I know not how I came here, how do I know where I go?
Something is telling me. It's that man in the corner. He must be controlling me, having some kind of order.
I stand up again. This time with valor. That man wants to kill me, and he's been waiting half an hour.
But as I get up, he makes a move too. The clock has now struck, and the crowd is yelling boo.
There's a crowd? Come from where?
'No where really, they're suddenly...just there.' says the man
'How do you know?'
'I just do' he replies
'Fair enough I suppose.'
We're both standing now, with weapons in hand. I've a sharp pencil, and he a hot brand.
He won't try to kill me, he'll make me his own. Some kind of slave I guess, depressed and alone. I lunge and he moves, swinging at me with a fist full of rage.
He seemed so calm a moment ago, but now a new person all his own.
I trip and I fall, but I don't hit the ground. I just keep going through nothing. No sights, and no sound.
It's all white you see, the walls, and the floor, and the ceiling above me.
But were they ever even there? Who knows? I don't care.
I look back up to see the man there, far away with his desk and his chair.
He's still holding his iron, looking down upon me. What world am I in, that fills me with such glee?
I have not a care as I continue to float--for that's what it is. There is no air rushing past me and no ground to hit. I'll stay here forever I suppose, alone but free. Better than being held in captivity.
How did I know he would take me a slave? Perhaps he was helping me, or trying to be brave.
I'll never know though, because he is long gone. I'll just float here forever, looking on and on.
Someday I may meet another, one as fortunate as me. To have left the cruel world and come soaring through the breeze.
But until then I'll just float, forever and ever, here in my happy boat.

***

'Jimmy? Jimmy! WAKE UP JIMMY! That's better. Have you finished your test yet? No? What were you doing all this time? Day dreaming? You'll just have to finish it tomorrow then. We only have a half hour class though so you'll have to be quick. See you tomorrow. What do I think of slavery? It's wrong and it's illegal, now be on your way. No I don't have a branding iron! What's wrong with you child? Are you going insane?'

'I think I am.'

So much little time

Drip, Drip, Drip. The old tap continues to cry out for attention from the other side of the room. I’ve had the plumber in several times to fix it. Apparently I should have hired a different plumber.

Drip, Drip, Drip. Jesus that’s annoying. Suppose I’ll call the plumber again…maybe a different one this time.

Drop, Drip, Drip. What’s that? A different noise? Wow. I must be really bored if I can tell the difference between the various noises drops of water make.

Drip, Drop, Drip, Drip. Almost sounds like morse code. As if the tap is trying to talk to me. I laugh. What a ridiculous thought.

Drop, Drop, Drop…Drip. Seriously? I really need to call the plumber. The phone’s all the way over at the counter though. God I’m lazy.

Drop, Drop, Drop…Drop. I wonder if that actually says anything in morse code? There might be a translator online somewhere. The computer’s even farther than the phone. Who cares? This is actually important.

Drop, Drop…Drip, Drip. Let’s see…google…morse code…translator. Here it is. Now how do I substitute dripping water for an electronic noise? This is stupid. I’m just paranoid.

Drip, Drip…Drop,Drip. I guess it’s still worth a try. I’ll just put all the drops of water in as dots, and any pauses as, ‘stops’. There.

Drip, Drip, Drip…Drop. Nothing. I knew it. But maybe if I make drips be dots and drops be dashes. It probably won’t be anything though. Still…

Drop, Drop…Drip, Drop. Hello John. Must just be coincidence. My name isn’t John; it’s James. I’ll try once more and then I’ll know for sure it’s nothing.

Drip…Drip, Drop, Drip. Sorry? Why would the tap apologize? It didn’t do anything to me. This is crazy.

Drip, Drop, Drip…Drop. Sorry what? Finish your sentence you stupid piece of metal! Listen to me! I’m talking to a tap!

Drop, Drop, Drop……Drip. Sorry James. How do you know my name? That’s right. I said it earlier. No I didn’t. It was in my head. Just like everything else right now. This is all just happening in my head.

Drop, Drip…Drop, Drop, Drop. No. No what? Do you ever finish you sentences? Maybe I’ll fix this thing myself.

Drip, Drip…Drop. No it. That’s not a complete sentence! Of course it’s not…the sink isn’t actually talking, it’s just coincidence.

Drip, Drip, Drip……Drop, Drip. No it’s not. What’s not? Did I even ask you a question in the first place? Where is my wrench?

Drop, Drip, Drip…Drip, Drop, Drip. Drawer. What about the drawer? I have several which one are you talking about?

Drip, Drop…Drip, Drop, Drop. I heard you the first time! You want me to look through my drawers? Fine! You see? I’m searching my drawers! Are you happy?

Drip…Drip, Drop, Drip. Stop saying that! God what do you want me to find?

Oh. A wrench.

Yes, a wrench. Use it. Fix me. This leak is driving me crazy.

It’s driving YOU crazy? I’ve been on a computer translating your stupid little leaks for the past twenty minutes because I thought you were talking to me in morse code.

Yea, I guess that’s pretty crazy.

I know.

Since when do sinks talk right?

Yea…hey!

What?

STOP IT! I am crazy! Sinks don’t talk! You’re a figment of my imagination! Leave me alone!

How can I be a figment of your imagination? I’ve been here longer than you. You use me every day to clean your dishes and such.

But I don’t carry on conversations with you!

Well now you do.

No, no, no, stop it! Go away PLEASE!

Okay.

What? Hello? Where did you go? So you’re gone just like that? Well jeez…this is boring.

Drop, Drop, Drip…Drop, Drop, Drop…Drop, Drop, Drop…Drop, Drip, Drip…Drop, Drip, Drip, Drip…Drop, Drip, Drop, Drop…Drip.

Yea, see you later.