I was an Innocent Bystander (Chapter 5: I <3 Caffeine)
Right. Yeah, I know I said I'd be telling you the essay I wrote for the final answer of the registration forms, but I just got a muse attack, and there is no way in hell I'm going to let this pass without taking major advantage of it. Also, I've changed my novel genre. Again. Mainly because of the stuff that's happened in the last few days giving me inspiration. Anyway, lemme write. Hell, I kinda need to, at this point, seein' as how I'm... fudgemonkeys. I'm over eleven thousand words behind. That's what I get for changing the theme so much, I suppose. On with the Muse!Jamie's New Life
The life and times of a cannibal insomniac.
This story needs some introduction. Not much, but just enough so as to make it difficult to jump right in. Now, the person this story is about was a young man who was just leaping into the 'real world' of jobs and rent and bills and other such mundane things that have come to be an accepted part of being an adult. Generally well-respected by his peers in the Writer's Club, and loved by his devoted girlfriend Josephine, whom he was splitting the costs of a simple, one room flat.
Jamie had recently graduated from a local college, with an Associate's in Business Management. He had a job, and he worked nearly every day of the week. He was the kind of guy who you would find staying after hours helping somebody else, since his projects were always completed early. That's not to say he rushed things, though. He was very meticulous about details, and the first to spot errors; others' as well as his own. As time passed, however, he started to slip. His ability to cut through the buzzword-laden technobabble that surrounded him waned, and simple spelling and grammar errors escaped his notice. Not seven months into his employment, and Jamie was rapidly burning out.
One day, during one of his increasingly-frequent cigaret breaks, something happened. Standing at the corner of the office building, Jamie heard a pained groan emanating from the dark alleyway that separated his building from the hospital next door. Curious, he delved into the shadows of the alley, attempting to discern where the noise was coming from. Another moan was heard. It sounded like it was coming from behind the dumpsters, but the echoes were making it difficult to pinpoint. Jamie stepped cautiously, not wanting to suffer the same fate as whatever was crying out in the alleyway.
Using one of the massive dumpsters as concealment, The young man peered around the corner. There, in filthy, ragged clothing, was a man. At least, it looked like a man. Milky-white eyes stared blindly out of deeply-sunken eyesockts. Rotted and yellow teeth were visible in the gaping maw, and a streamer of drool flowed from his lower lip to a torn blue pullover, as slowly as molasses. Lesions and sores were apparant on his hands and face, which looked as if they had never actually been in contact with soap and water, much less even heard of them. Thin, greasy hair projected in small clumps from the lower edges of a well-worn beanie, which in turn peeked out from beneath an ancient Brooklyn Dodgers baseball cap.