Sudden Fiction by Christopher Goudreau

Here’s a Sudden Fiction piece by Christopher from the contest we had at the end of February (see the prompt here: https://pulpcity.wordpress.com/2010/03/04/sudden-fiction-contest-ii/#more-396)…

The light shot into the drab apartment in an ethereal glow. The street lamp with its painted veil of man made light poured in beside the polished bedside. The smell of the roasting coffee caught the man’s attention and he woke up feeling a slight unease with his surroundings. The red telephone began ringing on the other side of the room.

Lifting his head and still in a slight daze he walked over to the other side of the room, where the neon lights and glows from the city erupted inside his dank apartment complex. “Yes” said the man in a somber voice. “Who’s calling?” The voice that spoke was an eloquent and cultured tone, nothing hinting any sign of the city, seemingly foreign. He said “It’s about time you’ve waken up, thought you were going to sleep all night” “I told you that you should come around at around midnight, not for you to go to bed when you are so needed at the factory. “ I needed the rest, god knows you keep us working all day on these pointless expeditions.” “All right Benny said the other man, just make sure to be over soon, they’re getting restless.” Benny grabbed his coat and walked out into the hallway. The scarlet hue on the outside of the door reminded him of curdled blood, “I don’t like this at all” thought Benny.

      Taking a taxi he arrived at the factory at one fifteen in the morning. The outside was dark and menacing like a children’s story where things don’t exactly pan out in the end. He knocked on the old metal door, with a hammer like sound. There came a reply, “Password” said the disembodied voice. “Respect”, replied Benny with some awkwardness. The door opened and an old man with a cane stood glaring at him in the moonlight. “He’s waiting upstairs” said the old man looking away from Benny while he talked. With an anxiety Benny walked up the stairs, his legs forming to the wooden staircase, every step he took  there was a loud crack as if his bones were breaking apart. Benny entered the room and there beside a window stood the man from the red telephone, “Son, said the man”. “I thought you would never arrive, I’ve been waiting for you for such a long time, eons it seems. “Dad”, said Benny. “You died years ago, when I was ten years old. “Yes , that may be so, but you should know by now that you’re only dreaming. All I’ve ever been was a dream, floating like a cloud in the sky.

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