The Tome By Maritonn De Pauveh
"No!" I said as I stopped feeling my face and jumped to my feet, not caring that the chair that I was sitting on fell to the floor, clattering loudly.
I had the sinking feeling that more time had passed than I cared to even think about. So much so that I knew with a sick certainty in the pit of my stomach that the last day I remembered had given way to this one which didn't feel like the next one.
And if that was the case, I would be furious and sad at the same time since I hadn't allowed a day to pass without the doing of what I was meant to do since I was much younger and less determined to keep the days as filled with writing as I do now.
I balled my writer's hand into a fist and shook it in the imagined face of Jobo, though doing such a thing now would result in a fight that I could only lose badly.
But he wasn't here and I was upset enough that I wouldn't care if he was. I would still shake my fist in his face even at the cost of what would come.
And still balled up, I clenched it even tighter and took a deep breath and ran through the doorway as the door was wide open.
Or tried to as there was an unseen force that prevented me from doing that, which not only stopped me from getting out of the room, but rebuffed my advance hard enough that I bounced off of it and fell down hard on my back and lay there as the pain of the fall radiated up through the whole of my body.
But it was not the pain of the fall that was uppermost on my mind. It was the question of how many days had I lost to my state of unconsciousness. It felt like more than one, even though my stomach was not growling loudly. It was a feeling that I had.
And these feelings of mine were rarely wrong. Though I found it hard to believe that he would do something so mean to me considering our history.
Or was that why he had done what I only felt that he had done? It was because we had once been close like brothers and now, were clearly not.
Either way, I was not happy with Jobo. He'd done me a wrong more terrible than any that I had done him and he knew it too!
"Damn you Jobo! You've taken this too far!" I cried out as I hammered the invisible barrier that kept me from the rest of the house that had once been my sanctuary and now felt like something else because he had violated the sanctity of my home.
He'd gone too far! But what could I do to make him pay for this? More importantly, did I even want to? I just wanted to find my way to happiness. I didn't want to make any kind of war with anyone.
I would be the better of us and let him have this, because I had better things to do than engage in some fool's revenge that wouldn't even make me the least bit happy.
Charles Petrie
Date
09-15-19
Time
I had the sinking feeling that more time had passed than I cared to even think about. So much so that I knew with a sick certainty in the pit of my stomach that the last day I remembered had given way to this one which didn't feel like the next one.
And if that was the case, I would be furious and sad at the same time since I hadn't allowed a day to pass without the doing of what I was meant to do since I was much younger and less determined to keep the days as filled with writing as I do now.
I balled my writer's hand into a fist and shook it in the imagined face of Jobo, though doing such a thing now would result in a fight that I could only lose badly.
But he wasn't here and I was upset enough that I wouldn't care if he was. I would still shake my fist in his face even at the cost of what would come.
And still balled up, I clenched it even tighter and took a deep breath and ran through the doorway as the door was wide open.
Or tried to as there was an unseen force that prevented me from doing that, which not only stopped me from getting out of the room, but rebuffed my advance hard enough that I bounced off of it and fell down hard on my back and lay there as the pain of the fall radiated up through the whole of my body.
But it was not the pain of the fall that was uppermost on my mind. It was the question of how many days had I lost to my state of unconsciousness. It felt like more than one, even though my stomach was not growling loudly. It was a feeling that I had.
And these feelings of mine were rarely wrong. Though I found it hard to believe that he would do something so mean to me considering our history.
Or was that why he had done what I only felt that he had done? It was because we had once been close like brothers and now, were clearly not.
Either way, I was not happy with Jobo. He'd done me a wrong more terrible than any that I had done him and he knew it too!
"Damn you Jobo! You've taken this too far!" I cried out as I hammered the invisible barrier that kept me from the rest of the house that had once been my sanctuary and now felt like something else because he had violated the sanctity of my home.
He'd gone too far! But what could I do to make him pay for this? More importantly, did I even want to? I just wanted to find my way to happiness. I didn't want to make any kind of war with anyone.
I would be the better of us and let him have this, because I had better things to do than engage in some fool's revenge that wouldn't even make me the least bit happy.
Charles Petrie
Date
09-15-19
Time
15:02-15:55=53
Word Count
Word Count
549
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