Okay, that is the most amount of reviews I've gotten within 24 hours ever. HOORAY! I bow to you all.
"Yes, I am sure! You Don't Exist!" Mort screamed at the top of his lungs, running up the stairs and back to his desk. He sat down with a thud and sat glaring angrily around the room at all of the random objects he kept there. He picked up a pen.........then put it back down again. He picked up a cigarette. Stared at it. Put it back down. "I don't smoke." Mort said aloud. Since nobody questioned this he picked it back up. "You know, what the hell." he said to his dog. No dog. Must be outside...he raised it to his mouth and-RINGG! Mort fell out of his chair, sending his coffee cup and ballpoint pen flying. RINGG! Swearing loudly, he stood up and cracked his skull on the underside of his desk. Cursing louder, he stumbled out from under his desk, covered in coffee and nursing a bruise the size of a screwdriver. Putting his arm over the top of his head as though trying to squeeze the pain out, he somehow managed to stumble down the stairs and to the couch. He reached for the phone. RIN-it stopped just as his hand extended over it. Mort let his outstretched arm fall limply to the side of the couch, and he lay there for a moment, just panting and waiting to be alive again and for whoever it was that was hitting him on the head with an ice-pick to stop. When the pain didn't subside, Mort reluctantly stood up, and hobbled over to the wall. He unplugged the cord, picked up the phone and calmly threw it through the window.
Mort then went to the kitchen, grabbed a Mountain Dew and went back upstairs, trying to figure out how to open the can. He threw it over the railing that separated his desk from the drop to the next floor and heard a satisfying sound as it landed on the table below and exploded. He sat down at his desk, yet again, and pulled his laptop out of a drawer. He opened up his Secret Window file and deleted the ending. He replaced it with a better one, one that had been successfully tested...in time, her death will become a mystery even to him... His finger hesitated over the enter key for a moment and then pushed it down with a finality that Mort somehow didn't feel in himself. Maybe the old ending...no. That Mort was dead. Gone. Erased. As Mort deleted the ending the ending deleted Mort. Though which of the two were good and evil was hard to say. There is no plain good and evil in the world. Not everything should rot in hell. Not everything belongs among the hallelujah chorus either. But if two wrongs don't make a right, how come two negatives make a positive? Aren't wrongs negative? And how did he get to thinking this anyway. Mort Rainey selected CtrlP and went to watch the printer.
Special Thanks to:
Dawnie Thanks. Your support is highly appreciated.
Mystery I think that I will read the book, it might leave me a jolly bit happier, though I must admit I am not one of Stephen King's biggest fans.
I know these are short so bear with me...Please keep reviewing, I think that (depressingly) this is the only story I've ever written not making fun of it (except for MAYBE the MOA one and maybe, maybe, maybe, my poems...)..........R&R S'il vous plait! Gracias. Guten nag to ye all (don't you just love my language skills?).