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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Science Fiction
- Subject: Comedy / Humor
- Published: 07/06/2016
Halved
Born 1989, M, from Sydney, AustraliaJim parked his car in the garage. The day had been testing to say the least, leaving little to no energy in his blue collar, working man’s body. A cold beer and Joanne were waiting though. Waiting to hear his footsteps slam against the tiles, the clatter of shoes being kicked of his size fourteen feet and a long awaited fat juicy kiss. It was all he needed. A perfect end to his thirty-fourth year on god’s green Earth.
He smiled an exhausted but satisfied smile.
Yeah, he knew what he was: a shit kicker, doing a menial job. Jim wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed; but any tool that required sharpening, would, without constant maintenance, become dull. Jim went dull and said, ‘screw it, this is good enough’ and was happy for it.
Now, even being the dull light in the pub bathroom that Jim was, he certainly didn’t have any delusions about how badly he was going to cop it the next day. Harry crumple up paper, pace back and forth and then eventually passive aggressively call Jim, bitching about how he hadn’t finished the job.
Harry’s a butthole, but worse, he’s a Patriots fan.
Jim opened the front door.
The scent of cinnamon rolls hits his nose. It smells wonderful: joy incarnate in dough form. He clanks his keys into the black onyx bowl they use to store keys and coins and switches on the lights.
The lounge room is much more colourful than usual. “SURPRISE… HAPPY BIRTHDAY YOU BIG GOOF!” is hanging on the wall, along with balloons on the floor, streamers on everything. Jim never liked parties, nor surprises, but he feels touched nevertheless touched nevertheless. No point on ruining their fun he decides; instead he’d leave and stay gone for two hours returning at the normal time: oblivious, astonished, over the bloody moon. It came easy to play dumb.
He drove away, headlights off until he was down the street a little. Two blocks away he saw Marty and Pete’s cars parked at the local Liquor store. “Sneaky Bastards,” he said, tapping his hands on the steering wheel, grooving to the sounds of Rush.
Jim carefully surveys the bar, checking the tables and chairs to make sure no one was there that would be at his party. No, the coast was clear and Jim was thirsty. A few sneaky beers went down well and Jim, a little tipsy, decided to leave his car and walk.
Just tell the Mrs the guys from work wanted a quick drink to celebrate your birthday. It was a perfectly acceptable white lie. She would appreciate and applaud his common sense. Never drink drive, he wasn’t that dumb, not anymore. Joanne had changed him … he was sensible and a better man now.
The noise was loud, blaring from across the house. Then silence; they had heard him open the door – he made sure of this by opening it very loudly after stamping his way there. He’d given them ample warning with his headlights to. Courtesy, it doesn’t cost anything.
He fumbled for the switch. He could hear breathing in the darkness; excited in its anticipation. A count of three and he flicked the light.
‘Surprise!’ They yell – and my god, it’s surprising.
At his height, nearly six-eight, it appears nobody’s there. A strange sensation twinges in his brain making him feel jittering, non-painful shocks throughout his body. A rewiring of sockets. Perplexed: a word his working class brain didn’t know, but certainly felt. The pieces just didn’t fit.
They were there alright, kind of …
About three inches above their waists everybody ended.
They weren’t dead; they were just … halved.
‘Hey baby,’ Joanne’s sexy legs says … somehow. “Happy Birthday, my big man.”
Was he going mad? For the other option was everybody in the house now walking, functioning and apparently partying half-bodies. Jim had often checked out legs often and was a self-professed ‘legs man,’ still, he wanted the rest as well.
Just the bottom half? This is insane. How do they breathe he thought?
He wouldn’t be able to kiss the kids – but, he’d still have to change diapers.
He wouldn’t kick up a fuss though. He owed them and he wouldn’t let some screwed up hallucination ruin the night. That’s all it was, of course. He’d seen some weird shit a few times in his years, and yes … this took the cake, but no need to disturb everybody’s good time. He would look normal, have fun and celebrate with Marty’s legs, Pete’s legs and his dog Checkers.
He looked surprised when he needed to. But not in a, you’ve been cut in half sort of way, but then normal way.
Jim Sighed. Gloria’s legs gave him a present, somehow: a VHS, she seemed very pleased about it. ‘I hope you like it,’ her oversized legs said nervously.
“I love it,” he replied, hiding sarcasm well as he gazed upon the half cover missing the title of the film.
Scattagories was fun, with only half a pen, cut sideways. He didn’t win. The beer was the top half of the bottle which meant it was empty, but the half bourbon glasses were starting to do the trick. He hummed, starting to enjoy himself, then cut the birthday cake: a cake made of half doughnuts as Jim doesn’t eat conventional cake.
It took a minute or two for Jim to notice the elderly legs, belonging to his mother, who had flown, possibly at the time all of herself from the other side of the country for his birthday. She felt he was ignoring her all night and it was hard work convincing her he wasn’t without saying, ‘hey mum, didn’t know they were your legs.’
That said, besides the strange and awkward points of the night, it was surprisingly successful. Everybody had fun, Jim included. Some of Jim’s single friend’s leg’s paired off with some of Joanne’s … and Jim had birthday sex – which was still amazing, even with the missing appendages.
At nine in the morning Jim’s Phone rang.
‘Hi Harry,’ Jim slurred, hungover from a dozen half rum and cokes.
‘Don’t bloody hi Harry me. Do you know how much work you left me?’ Harry asked, angry but equally nervous by his tone of voice.
Screw him…
‘Yeah, a bit seem to remember,’ Jim said yawning, wiping his eyes. ‘Shouldn’t you be working then?’
Harry was breathing heaving, seething on the other side of the half phone. ‘You ungrateful bastard. You’re only getting half a day’s wage for that shift’
‘Okay,’ and he hung up.
Jim repositioned his head on his Pil, which had lost the low. Caressing Joanne’s silky legs that lay beside him, Jim felt happy. To have half the things in life didn’t seem so bad. As long as they were the good things. Joanne had a pretty face, but this was great to. The TV remote still had the on button, he could practically make out what was going on the episode of Scrubs he was watching.
Jim dialled work, smiling, invigorated by a surge of serenity, confidence and acceptance. He would no longer give any thought into the effort of life. Not that he really did anyway. As long as he had Joanne’s legs and a house, which in fact hadn’t been halved, he was content and life didn’t have to be hard.
He was a good person … that’s enough, he thought.
‘Hello,’ Harry answered chirpily, like a closest transvestite.
‘I quit … and you’re a dick,” Jim said, smiling. He threw the phone on the bed, not interested in Harry’s bullocks. Jim then stretched, put his Superman boxer shorts on, (one of the non-halved items in his house) and stepped outside. The grass tickled his feet, and it felt great – Jim truly felt alive. The grass was shorter he noticed, by half. Great he thought, less need for mowing.
Upwards the sun burned a semi-circle half as bright as usual, and looked like something he had read about in one of those nerdy Sci-Fi magazines.
Yes, Jim read, surprisingly.
The bright, but not painfully bright spectacle looks down on him. This was the life … effortless … fantastic.
Jim felt wetness at his feet. Mud, thick and brown had covered his feet.
‘Better get my slippers,’ he said yawning again, not concerned in the least bit.
Turning he gazed upon nothing …
It was all gone …
No house … no Joanne …
He feels that same rewiring twinge he had felt the night before. It’s much stronger this time. The world dissolves leaving a white, infinite void.
Jim stares into it and suddenly feels much shorter.
Huh?
Then Jim’s gone. It took no effort for it to be so.
Halved(Michael Dartnell)
Jim parked his car in the garage. The day had been testing to say the least, leaving little to no energy in his blue collar, working man’s body. A cold beer and Joanne were waiting though. Waiting to hear his footsteps slam against the tiles, the clatter of shoes being kicked of his size fourteen feet and a long awaited fat juicy kiss. It was all he needed. A perfect end to his thirty-fourth year on god’s green Earth.
He smiled an exhausted but satisfied smile.
Yeah, he knew what he was: a shit kicker, doing a menial job. Jim wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed; but any tool that required sharpening, would, without constant maintenance, become dull. Jim went dull and said, ‘screw it, this is good enough’ and was happy for it.
Now, even being the dull light in the pub bathroom that Jim was, he certainly didn’t have any delusions about how badly he was going to cop it the next day. Harry crumple up paper, pace back and forth and then eventually passive aggressively call Jim, bitching about how he hadn’t finished the job.
Harry’s a butthole, but worse, he’s a Patriots fan.
Jim opened the front door.
The scent of cinnamon rolls hits his nose. It smells wonderful: joy incarnate in dough form. He clanks his keys into the black onyx bowl they use to store keys and coins and switches on the lights.
The lounge room is much more colourful than usual. “SURPRISE… HAPPY BIRTHDAY YOU BIG GOOF!” is hanging on the wall, along with balloons on the floor, streamers on everything. Jim never liked parties, nor surprises, but he feels touched nevertheless touched nevertheless. No point on ruining their fun he decides; instead he’d leave and stay gone for two hours returning at the normal time: oblivious, astonished, over the bloody moon. It came easy to play dumb.
He drove away, headlights off until he was down the street a little. Two blocks away he saw Marty and Pete’s cars parked at the local Liquor store. “Sneaky Bastards,” he said, tapping his hands on the steering wheel, grooving to the sounds of Rush.
Jim carefully surveys the bar, checking the tables and chairs to make sure no one was there that would be at his party. No, the coast was clear and Jim was thirsty. A few sneaky beers went down well and Jim, a little tipsy, decided to leave his car and walk.
Just tell the Mrs the guys from work wanted a quick drink to celebrate your birthday. It was a perfectly acceptable white lie. She would appreciate and applaud his common sense. Never drink drive, he wasn’t that dumb, not anymore. Joanne had changed him … he was sensible and a better man now.
The noise was loud, blaring from across the house. Then silence; they had heard him open the door – he made sure of this by opening it very loudly after stamping his way there. He’d given them ample warning with his headlights to. Courtesy, it doesn’t cost anything.
He fumbled for the switch. He could hear breathing in the darkness; excited in its anticipation. A count of three and he flicked the light.
‘Surprise!’ They yell – and my god, it’s surprising.
At his height, nearly six-eight, it appears nobody’s there. A strange sensation twinges in his brain making him feel jittering, non-painful shocks throughout his body. A rewiring of sockets. Perplexed: a word his working class brain didn’t know, but certainly felt. The pieces just didn’t fit.
They were there alright, kind of …
About three inches above their waists everybody ended.
They weren’t dead; they were just … halved.
‘Hey baby,’ Joanne’s sexy legs says … somehow. “Happy Birthday, my big man.”
Was he going mad? For the other option was everybody in the house now walking, functioning and apparently partying half-bodies. Jim had often checked out legs often and was a self-professed ‘legs man,’ still, he wanted the rest as well.
Just the bottom half? This is insane. How do they breathe he thought?
He wouldn’t be able to kiss the kids – but, he’d still have to change diapers.
He wouldn’t kick up a fuss though. He owed them and he wouldn’t let some screwed up hallucination ruin the night. That’s all it was, of course. He’d seen some weird shit a few times in his years, and yes … this took the cake, but no need to disturb everybody’s good time. He would look normal, have fun and celebrate with Marty’s legs, Pete’s legs and his dog Checkers.
He looked surprised when he needed to. But not in a, you’ve been cut in half sort of way, but then normal way.
Jim Sighed. Gloria’s legs gave him a present, somehow: a VHS, she seemed very pleased about it. ‘I hope you like it,’ her oversized legs said nervously.
“I love it,” he replied, hiding sarcasm well as he gazed upon the half cover missing the title of the film.
Scattagories was fun, with only half a pen, cut sideways. He didn’t win. The beer was the top half of the bottle which meant it was empty, but the half bourbon glasses were starting to do the trick. He hummed, starting to enjoy himself, then cut the birthday cake: a cake made of half doughnuts as Jim doesn’t eat conventional cake.
It took a minute or two for Jim to notice the elderly legs, belonging to his mother, who had flown, possibly at the time all of herself from the other side of the country for his birthday. She felt he was ignoring her all night and it was hard work convincing her he wasn’t without saying, ‘hey mum, didn’t know they were your legs.’
That said, besides the strange and awkward points of the night, it was surprisingly successful. Everybody had fun, Jim included. Some of Jim’s single friend’s leg’s paired off with some of Joanne’s … and Jim had birthday sex – which was still amazing, even with the missing appendages.
At nine in the morning Jim’s Phone rang.
‘Hi Harry,’ Jim slurred, hungover from a dozen half rum and cokes.
‘Don’t bloody hi Harry me. Do you know how much work you left me?’ Harry asked, angry but equally nervous by his tone of voice.
Screw him…
‘Yeah, a bit seem to remember,’ Jim said yawning, wiping his eyes. ‘Shouldn’t you be working then?’
Harry was breathing heaving, seething on the other side of the half phone. ‘You ungrateful bastard. You’re only getting half a day’s wage for that shift’
‘Okay,’ and he hung up.
Jim repositioned his head on his Pil, which had lost the low. Caressing Joanne’s silky legs that lay beside him, Jim felt happy. To have half the things in life didn’t seem so bad. As long as they were the good things. Joanne had a pretty face, but this was great to. The TV remote still had the on button, he could practically make out what was going on the episode of Scrubs he was watching.
Jim dialled work, smiling, invigorated by a surge of serenity, confidence and acceptance. He would no longer give any thought into the effort of life. Not that he really did anyway. As long as he had Joanne’s legs and a house, which in fact hadn’t been halved, he was content and life didn’t have to be hard.
He was a good person … that’s enough, he thought.
‘Hello,’ Harry answered chirpily, like a closest transvestite.
‘I quit … and you’re a dick,” Jim said, smiling. He threw the phone on the bed, not interested in Harry’s bullocks. Jim then stretched, put his Superman boxer shorts on, (one of the non-halved items in his house) and stepped outside. The grass tickled his feet, and it felt great – Jim truly felt alive. The grass was shorter he noticed, by half. Great he thought, less need for mowing.
Upwards the sun burned a semi-circle half as bright as usual, and looked like something he had read about in one of those nerdy Sci-Fi magazines.
Yes, Jim read, surprisingly.
The bright, but not painfully bright spectacle looks down on him. This was the life … effortless … fantastic.
Jim felt wetness at his feet. Mud, thick and brown had covered his feet.
‘Better get my slippers,’ he said yawning again, not concerned in the least bit.
Turning he gazed upon nothing …
It was all gone …
No house … no Joanne …
He feels that same rewiring twinge he had felt the night before. It’s much stronger this time. The world dissolves leaving a white, infinite void.
Jim stares into it and suddenly feels much shorter.
Huh?
Then Jim’s gone. It took no effort for it to be so.
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