Little Stories

Microfiction and little bits of stories.

It hadn't been Jake's room, it had been Aaron's, back when they were in high school. Jake and Aaron had been best friends since elementary, all through high school, and into college before life and studies started moving them apart. They were still friends, in a nodding, call-every-once-in-a-while, Facebook likes sort of way.

Aaron's parents were well off, and hadn't really needed Aaron's room, so it was left alone, not untouched but not really changed, for decades.

So one day when Jake and Aaron agreed to meet in their home town and Jake got there first he was invited in by Aaron's mom. When it became obvious that they had nothing to talk about he asked if he could go wait in Aaron's room. She agreed.

The room had sailed through the decades lightly touched. The CRT monitor was still on the desk, a huge beige box connected to it from under the desk. The two used office chairs were where they had left them all those years ago.

Jake sat down in the secondary one, “his” chair. For a few moments he felt heavy with the years, the two decades of joys and failures and experiences...for a few moments he felt like that skinny, awkward teenager looking at his second home from inside all those layers of gravity, wondering what had happened to him, wondering how he had become this...

But he knew how. He had regrets, but he wouldn't go back. Still, it was nice to sit here and remember what had been, and be in a place that remembered as well.

Hide, good friends, for the wild night is upon you. See the storm rolling in, lighting in her wings. The wind is hot, no reprieve here for you.

Ah, but you will be safe in your home, for you have already won. The storm has agreed that, but rarely will it breach your walls, destroy your little civilization of sticks and boards and copper. This land is too tame, this place too covered with your nets and mundane magics. Wrap your civilization around you. Stream something. Go to bed with your air conditioning on high, filter out the humidity and the heat and the reality, make your house a little piece of an idealized European night.

You've won, man. This land was ours, all land was ours. You used to be part of us, but most of you don't remember. But you had bigger ideas. You always have. And little by little you pinned us down. O man, do you remember when your blood boiled on nights like this? Do you remember when you were influenced by us?

Some of you do. Not many, because it's not safe. Some nights you end up dead, but you know what? That's part of the plan. Death and blood and conception and birth and ire and fire and will and wantonness, this was all part and parcel before. But you tamed yourself and you tamed us. And now we only express ourselves when our need is greater than your control.

So the wild night comes with lightning in her wings. And those that hear us still will be wild. Those that understand us still will dance or yell or wander and feel our call in their blood and their hearts will beat true for a few hours.

But then it will be over, and with the dawn the world will be yours again. You've won, O man. All we ask is that if you can but feel to do so, you will join us one of these nights, join the wild for a night, and remember who you were when we were one.

Everything is closing in. Walls, ceiling, windows. The door is nearly touching my foot, my back to the opposite wall. I can't move very much any more. I can barely breathe.

This isn't what I expected. This isn't what I wanted. I could go out that door, I could leave. But...what if it's worse out there? What if the whole world is shrinking? What if everywhere is like this?

This room used to be fine. It wasn't always too small. Maybe I'm making this room too small because I'm not doing enough to make it big. Maybe if I think really hard, maybe if I work hard to clean up the whole room it'll go back to being big enough.

Hmmm... No, no. It's not getting bigger. If I just...turn...just a little...I can see out the window...

It looks normal out there. Kinda nice, actually. But I'm sure it's just illusion. I can't be the only one who is in a room that is shrinking, can I? When I look on my phone it seems like this is happening to everyone. It wasn't always like that, was it?

The door opens outward... So...

I used to love this room. It used to be comfy, and I had friends over sometimes, and everything.

Ugh. My back hurts. Well. Maybe, just for a minute... Maybe I can go outside, just to see, just to check if it's shrinking too. Getting out the door might be a bit difficult...

Ngh. Ugh.. Almost there. Halfway out. I'm sure I'm wasting my time. I'm sure it's just as bad out here...

Oh.

Okay then. This is lovely.

I'll miss my old room. But maybe I never really needed it.

Let's go see what's out there!