Fog
1.
Mike sat up holding the back of his head. "shit, what the hell happened?' he looked at his hand, it had blood on it. He looked around, he was in the restroom at the diner. There was a small puddle of blood on the floor where his head had been. He stood up, but lost his balance and griped the sink for balance. He saw a blood spot on the sink corner, and he pieced it together. He must have slipped, busted his head on the sink, and got knocked out. At least he had a good sleep without any dreams.
He looked in the mirror, and held his head. He grabbed some paper towels and ran water on them. He wiped the back of his head to get the blood out of his hair.
"I wonder how long I've been out, and why no one found me… not that I care if anyone would find me" he looked at his watch. It was a cheap watch that his sister won for him at the amusement park. It read 12:00 but the second hand didn't move at all. He held it to his ear… no sound. It wasn't ticking. He shook his head to wake himself up. He opened the restroom door and walked out.
The diner was empty, no one was there talking. The cook and waitress wasn't there either. He walked around, getting a look at the place. He'd never seen it empty, only at night when it was closed, but it was still daytime and light was shining in through the windows.
"hello?" he asked, but no answer. He was alone… and he liked it. He walked to the door and left the diner.
Outside there was a dense fog everywhere. But it didn't have the humid and wetness of a morning fog. It was like the fog was hiding something, like the way a killer hides his knife after a kill, or the way a killer hides his knife before the kill.
He looked around, no one was anywhere, thought the fog obstructed his view greatly. He could see about, perhaps 20 meters in front of him. "HELLO?", but no answer. He was alone, and he loved it, for the first time in a long while, he was happy.
"Am I dreaming? Maybe I'm dead… " he said aloud without knowing it but he didn't care if he was dreaming or dead, he finally felt slightly happy. He walked around the diner to the alley where he parked his mini-bike. When he saw his mini-bike he saw his sister sitting on it pretending to drive. He shook his head, knowing he didn't see that, and looked again. His bike sat there, nothing else.
He couldn't stand to look at his bike, the image of his sister burnt into his eyes and he hated it. He felt like he could cry. Seeing his sister took the happiness away from him. He turned around, he hated his bike now. He never wanted to see it again. He walked away.
1.
Mike sat up holding the back of his head. "shit, what the hell happened?' he looked at his hand, it had blood on it. He looked around, he was in the restroom at the diner. There was a small puddle of blood on the floor where his head had been. He stood up, but lost his balance and griped the sink for balance. He saw a blood spot on the sink corner, and he pieced it together. He must have slipped, busted his head on the sink, and got knocked out. At least he had a good sleep without any dreams.
He looked in the mirror, and held his head. He grabbed some paper towels and ran water on them. He wiped the back of his head to get the blood out of his hair.
"I wonder how long I've been out, and why no one found me… not that I care if anyone would find me" he looked at his watch. It was a cheap watch that his sister won for him at the amusement park. It read 12:00 but the second hand didn't move at all. He held it to his ear… no sound. It wasn't ticking. He shook his head to wake himself up. He opened the restroom door and walked out.
The diner was empty, no one was there talking. The cook and waitress wasn't there either. He walked around, getting a look at the place. He'd never seen it empty, only at night when it was closed, but it was still daytime and light was shining in through the windows.
"hello?" he asked, but no answer. He was alone… and he liked it. He walked to the door and left the diner.
Outside there was a dense fog everywhere. But it didn't have the humid and wetness of a morning fog. It was like the fog was hiding something, like the way a killer hides his knife after a kill, or the way a killer hides his knife before the kill.
He looked around, no one was anywhere, thought the fog obstructed his view greatly. He could see about, perhaps 20 meters in front of him. "HELLO?", but no answer. He was alone, and he loved it, for the first time in a long while, he was happy.
"Am I dreaming? Maybe I'm dead… " he said aloud without knowing it but he didn't care if he was dreaming or dead, he finally felt slightly happy. He walked around the diner to the alley where he parked his mini-bike. When he saw his mini-bike he saw his sister sitting on it pretending to drive. He shook his head, knowing he didn't see that, and looked again. His bike sat there, nothing else.
He couldn't stand to look at his bike, the image of his sister burnt into his eyes and he hated it. He felt like he could cry. Seeing his sister took the happiness away from him. He turned around, he hated his bike now. He never wanted to see it again. He walked away.