In a slight change from our normal posts, SINKINGSHIP presents a new way of reading blog posts.
We hope you enjoy this short story.
Sunday evening was a very special time of the week for Ian Cope. It was the one time of the week he could truly be himself.
For the rest of the week Ian had to wear a tie.
He wore other clothes of course, but having to knot a length of silk around his neck felt more akin to slipping on a noose.
Ian hated his job. If pressed, he couldn’t even tell what it was that did. He went to work every day and entered a building of some kind and sat at one of the many desks that melted into the many rows upon rows of grey, sad and desperate slabs of plastic.
He would sit there from 8:30am until 5pm, sometimes leaving for lunch, but sometimes not.
Once the small clock on the other side of the room reached 5 he would quietly get up, collect his coat and wander home without uttering a word to single human being.
Sunday nights were different.
Ian didn’t wear a tie on Sunday nights.
Instead he would sit quietly in his big armchair and stare at the TV in the corner of the room.
Pictures would flicker past his eyes at a rate of knots.
Visions of people form all over the world. Some happy and colourful. Beautiful happy smiling people full of life and laughter. Others were not so lucky. There were other people who were crying or just sad. People who had lost everything. Homes, possessions loved ones. Hope.
Ian could not relate to any of these people.
He found it strange that other people had such opposing reactions to the world around them. They all lived in the same world. Breathed the same air and presumably, watched the same TV as he did. But Ian did not cry. Nor did he feel the urge to laugh.
Ian was completely devoid of emotion.
It was Sunday night and Ian Cope sat in his chair and watched the world around fumble along without purpose.
“This is wrong.” Ian thought to himself.
“It shouldn’t be like this.” He concluded.
And with that thought Ian Cope concocted a devious diabolical and genius plan to put things right.
Lifting himself from the comfort of his chair a strange feeling crept through his body. It started at his feet as he took the weight of his frame. With each step he felt a pulse of energy surge through his body. First his legs became stronger. Each stride had more meaning. His arms began to pull him along as he walked toward his destiny.
Within seconds his head was electric with ideas and plans. By the time he had reached the kitchen and flicked the kettle on Ian was almost giddy with anticipation with the knowledge of what was to come.
A packet of custard creams was selected from the biscuit tin and Ian made his way to his writing desk in order to write down his amazing solution to the human condition.
“This is so simple I can’t believe nobody thought of it before.” Chuckled Ian as he placed the …..
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