Time Enough At Last
Beemis approached his Boss's office, unaware that he was about to get an earful.
"You're wife is an amazingly bright woman, You Mr Beemis are a reader. A reader of Books, Magazines, Periodic Articles. You have no sense, no the wisdom to realize it, You Mr Beemis are-"
The boss trailed off and Beemis grew bored with the affair, opting instead to catch a glimpse of
one of the books in his office, The Catcher in the Rye. He went into a trance and paid no mind
to his boss. "Beemis!" his boss yelled, snapping his fingers.
Beemis bemoaned the fact that his wife cared more for the "Art of conversation" rather than genuine poetry or engaging stories, a fact that irked him more than anything. And yet upper management saw fit to treat his idle hobby as incriminating evidence of incompetence. This was the final straw for Beemis who lashed out at his boss, using language that was decidedly non formal and very white hot. He leaned into his Boss's ear and hissed:
"Now YOU listen to me you sniveling worm! I come to work to read because my wife sees fit to keep me from such. She is a shrew, a miserly backwards prune with no brains of her own. She barely recognizes nor cares for my rights as a husband, slapping, hitting, hell she came after me with a knife for daring to read the credits for a movie once. She's beyond evil! She is for all intents and purposes, a vile woman
with a sadistic streak and a flair for the overdramatic. Call me crazy, but Tsar Nicholas or the White Russians would easily take her. Even Ted Bundy would consider her for employment. now sit the fuck down and shut up, you useless cur!" he said, his whole body quivering with rage. His boss wisely stayed silent.
When he got home, his wife was her usual Jolly self. "Speak of the devil, you're happy. found yet ANOTHER way to humiliate me?" said Beemis, laying back in his chair, his pipe lit. "I'll have you know that whatever plan you have won't work. All my books are safe, your knives are hidden, your bed is filled with glass and i even had the foresight to add something special to the roast. As her smile went down, his went up. He was beaming with pride as she became more and more demoralized.
"Go Fetch My Dinner" Beemis said, his wife obeyed, seemingly cowed for the moment. She silently cooked the roast and set the table. "did you add anything "Special?" he asked, unnerving her.
"Just the usual spices honey...fancy a newspaper? or the ketchup bottle. let me go and get an article from upstairs!" she said, frantically trying to subvert what would soon be holy hell, from her now pissed off husband. "this is good. so, how was your day? don't be shy, you're always going on about the art of talking. well, talk" he said, eating some more. "I heard that you were...reading" Said Beemis as he eyed his now disturbed wife, watching with glee as she became more and more broken. He finished, did the dishes and left for work. Before he exited the door, he took some tape a copy of Atlas Shrugged and spare clothes, put those in a briefcase and also packed extra food, and left. He bought 3 pounds of Beef Jerky, a half pound of Peanut butter and 12 loaves of bread. He then went into the safe and waited.
The bomb went off an hour later. He had enough food to last for a year and the local library was nearby.
He truly had Time enough at last