A Life in the Night of Alex Mauldin

14 Sep

Once again, we check in on our pal Alex…

Alex eased into the large living-room chair, whincingly expecting the harsh sting of the cool vinyl. Instead, his bare back was met with a kind of tepid dampness. The night air was thick, causing a general sense of unease. It was the kind of night in which sound carried all too well. Alex had always had an acute self-conciousness about making noise in the late night. It was as though the darkness were a fragile porcelain in his mind, and he feared cracking its delicate structure with sound, even when alone. Harsh noises in the night always felt out of place and disarming to Alex. With that in mind, he placed his spread fingers firmly on the arm rests of the chair as though palming a small melon in each hand, arched his back, dug his shoulders into the chair, and ever so gently gave a forceful push–“KATHUNK!!”

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Posted by on September 14, 2008 in fiction, writing


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