Luke 5:16

Animus Bellum, Part 1

I had the urge to start writing a short story last week.  I thought this might be as good a place as any to share it.  It isn’t complete yet, but I would like to put it out in installments.  I would love your feedback, feelings, critiques, thoughts, etc. on each part, and the resulting whole.  It’s simply entitled “Animus Bellum.”  So, without further ado….

Part 1

Mike knew the director was going to call him back any minute.  He could just sense it.  He also had the unmistakable feeling that this was going to be big.  A life-changing opportunity.

The Director had always been kind.  There were plenty of times when Mike could have very easily been let go because of the choices, and yet, he was still here.  The curious thing was, Mike could never really tell if The Director was disappointed or upset when things went wrong.  The Director always maintained his composure.

As Mike sat in the waiting room, ready to be called, he double-checked to make sure he had done everything correctly.  He had all his materials in-hand and he was ready to go.  He glanced around the waiting room, noticing the clean and crisp decor and design of the room.  There were paintings on the otherwise non-descript walls that resembled people and places, but were just abstract and impressionistic enough not to be recognizable.  As the only other person in the waiting room stood up to make the long walk down the hall way towards the Director’s office, a sudden stroke of fear swept over Mike’s entire body.  He broke out in a cold sweat, his head began to pound, his heart began to throb in his chest.  There was no reason or explanation.  He was never fearful or uncomfortable around The Director, even though the air was filled with total reverence when anyone was in his presence.  He hadn’t once felt an inkling of anxiety about meeting with The Director.

At the same time, as if sliding by effortlessly, someone passed by the only external window in the waiting room.  It was too quick to tell, but Mike was sure he recognized the figure.  Not sure if it was man or woman, or even able to determine any features, he still knew that this was a familiar being.  He tried to crane his neck to see out the window, without letting on that he was interested.  As he stretched to look, squinting his eyes at the blindingly bright sunlight in the world outside the window, he slipped and fell from his chair.  Instead of flopping to the carpeted floor, however, he began a free-fall that seemed to accelerate instantaneously…


One response

  1. Pingback: Animus Bellum, Part 4 « My Lonely Place

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