dauthi
03-12-2008, 11:48 PM
This is the first part of a story I am writing that may or may not be submitted to a local writing competition in my area. I don't think I will be posting the rest, I just wanted some feedback because I am highly insecure about it. (I'm insecure enough about it that I'm considering submitting a poetry anthology to said competition instead)
Anyway.
Reincarnation
It was a severe screech that woke Jake up. Some woman had pulled the blinds open, letting the chipped rings scrape against the metal bar in a cacophonous chorus. The light flooding in around him disoriented him, illuminating the room in sharp contrasts: the reflective glare of the white walls, the long shadows of the baby-grand piano, the crinkled clothes and various paraphernalia strewn about the room, giving off the sense of a comfortable living space, though of course it was utterly foreign.
“Good morning,” the woman said to him cheerfully, turning around and facing him. Her eyes were small and crowded around a long, pinched nose. With the light penetrating through the blinds and into her bushy hair in crepuscular rays, she resembled a blurry, overblown witch.
“Oh god,” Jake thought to himself, “Please tell me I didn’t sleep with her.”
Realizing that the woman was staring at him patiently for a reply, he mumbled back, “Morning.”
“How are you feeling today, Jake?”
“Er, just fine, thank you,” Jake replied, startled by the woman’s strange choice of words. Though the woman was young, she spoke with a long-suffering, distinctly matronly authority that alternately soothed and disturbed Jake.
“That’s good, that’s good,” she said, smiling agreeably and scooping up into a laundry basket the scattered clothing on the ground. Jake watched her for some time while she hummed to herself, determining an opportunity to ask her the crucial question on his mind.
“And uh, how are you, Ms…?” He trailed off, unable to finish.
“Quite excellent, thank you very much,” the woman chirped while completely ignoring the other half of his question. “Did you sleep well?”
“Yeah, I’d say so,” Jake said. “Um, by the way –“
“Have good dreams?” the woman asked, cutting Jake off.
“I can’t remember, but I bet I did.”
“Hm, well don’t worry your head about it.”
“Wait, just one question. Did anything, er, happen?”
“No,” the woman replied quickly, automatically.
“Then why am I –“
“Breakfast is straight to the right down the hall,” the woman chirped, interrupting him midway again. She left the room before he could get in anything else.
Realizing that he was indeed quite ravenous, Jake pulled the covers off, equally startled and relieved to find that he was still fully dressed, although they were not the same clothes he had remembered wearing. Disregarding that curious fact, he rummaged around for his shoes, and failing to find them, donned a pair of white bath-house slippers instead.
The hall was surprisingly full of people. In fact, it was not so much full of people as it was full of old people, with all their hunch-backed hobgoblin heads bobbing as they tottered down the hallway, soaked in their putrid body odor of dead fish. Jake winced and strode past them as quickly and politely as he could. It wasn’t that much faster, but at least he would be able to get to the hallway soon and rid himself of that smell. A few people nodded to him and smiled, and one person even astonishingly knew his name, but he ignored them, mind focused simply on escaping the horrible stench.
The breakfast room proved to be a haven. A safe distance from that terrifying legion of gnomish figures, he found himself hungry, and entranced by the stacks of pancakes and rashers of sausage and ham sizzling on the metal pans, he pulled a waitress over, asking her how one paid for food here and what the etiquette was. She shook her cross-eyed head gently, and in a surprisingly melodic voice he would not have expected to breathe out from that pointed nose, told him that it didn’t cost anything.
“This is a complimentary breakfast, sir,” she said, “It comes with your hotel stay here. Just take one of those trays over there and a plate, and you can pile everything onto the plate.”
Jake nodded, chiding himself lightly over the insensibility of paying for a buffet breakfast at a hotel. Of course all buffet breakfasts were complimentary. The only thing that bothered him was the missing memory of registering a room in the hotel, but the thought left his mind as he begun to pile on food, grinning in anticipation.
By the time Jake had decided on a table the army of old people had arrived, ready to do battle with dropped utensils and banal conversations about cats.
He picked up his knife and his fork, gripping them viciously and slicing across his pancakes with wide, disorganized slashes. He imagined launching the fork straight into someone’s eye, and the tribal custom that befitted such a vulgar action, of cutting out the victim’s heart and eating it, blood dribbling gloriously down the chin in a vampiric ecstasy. Before he knew it the pancakes were gone.
Anyway.
Reincarnation
It was a severe screech that woke Jake up. Some woman had pulled the blinds open, letting the chipped rings scrape against the metal bar in a cacophonous chorus. The light flooding in around him disoriented him, illuminating the room in sharp contrasts: the reflective glare of the white walls, the long shadows of the baby-grand piano, the crinkled clothes and various paraphernalia strewn about the room, giving off the sense of a comfortable living space, though of course it was utterly foreign.
“Good morning,” the woman said to him cheerfully, turning around and facing him. Her eyes were small and crowded around a long, pinched nose. With the light penetrating through the blinds and into her bushy hair in crepuscular rays, she resembled a blurry, overblown witch.
“Oh god,” Jake thought to himself, “Please tell me I didn’t sleep with her.”
Realizing that the woman was staring at him patiently for a reply, he mumbled back, “Morning.”
“How are you feeling today, Jake?”
“Er, just fine, thank you,” Jake replied, startled by the woman’s strange choice of words. Though the woman was young, she spoke with a long-suffering, distinctly matronly authority that alternately soothed and disturbed Jake.
“That’s good, that’s good,” she said, smiling agreeably and scooping up into a laundry basket the scattered clothing on the ground. Jake watched her for some time while she hummed to herself, determining an opportunity to ask her the crucial question on his mind.
“And uh, how are you, Ms…?” He trailed off, unable to finish.
“Quite excellent, thank you very much,” the woman chirped while completely ignoring the other half of his question. “Did you sleep well?”
“Yeah, I’d say so,” Jake said. “Um, by the way –“
“Have good dreams?” the woman asked, cutting Jake off.
“I can’t remember, but I bet I did.”
“Hm, well don’t worry your head about it.”
“Wait, just one question. Did anything, er, happen?”
“No,” the woman replied quickly, automatically.
“Then why am I –“
“Breakfast is straight to the right down the hall,” the woman chirped, interrupting him midway again. She left the room before he could get in anything else.
Realizing that he was indeed quite ravenous, Jake pulled the covers off, equally startled and relieved to find that he was still fully dressed, although they were not the same clothes he had remembered wearing. Disregarding that curious fact, he rummaged around for his shoes, and failing to find them, donned a pair of white bath-house slippers instead.
The hall was surprisingly full of people. In fact, it was not so much full of people as it was full of old people, with all their hunch-backed hobgoblin heads bobbing as they tottered down the hallway, soaked in their putrid body odor of dead fish. Jake winced and strode past them as quickly and politely as he could. It wasn’t that much faster, but at least he would be able to get to the hallway soon and rid himself of that smell. A few people nodded to him and smiled, and one person even astonishingly knew his name, but he ignored them, mind focused simply on escaping the horrible stench.
The breakfast room proved to be a haven. A safe distance from that terrifying legion of gnomish figures, he found himself hungry, and entranced by the stacks of pancakes and rashers of sausage and ham sizzling on the metal pans, he pulled a waitress over, asking her how one paid for food here and what the etiquette was. She shook her cross-eyed head gently, and in a surprisingly melodic voice he would not have expected to breathe out from that pointed nose, told him that it didn’t cost anything.
“This is a complimentary breakfast, sir,” she said, “It comes with your hotel stay here. Just take one of those trays over there and a plate, and you can pile everything onto the plate.”
Jake nodded, chiding himself lightly over the insensibility of paying for a buffet breakfast at a hotel. Of course all buffet breakfasts were complimentary. The only thing that bothered him was the missing memory of registering a room in the hotel, but the thought left his mind as he begun to pile on food, grinning in anticipation.
By the time Jake had decided on a table the army of old people had arrived, ready to do battle with dropped utensils and banal conversations about cats.
He picked up his knife and his fork, gripping them viciously and slicing across his pancakes with wide, disorganized slashes. He imagined launching the fork straight into someone’s eye, and the tribal custom that befitted such a vulgar action, of cutting out the victim’s heart and eating it, blood dribbling gloriously down the chin in a vampiric ecstasy. Before he knew it the pancakes were gone.