Wednesday, April 7, 2010

Bloggaday 52 – PWND Pt 1 of Aaron

Bloggaday 52 – PWND Pt 1 of Aaron

Finally, another edition of PWND!
Umm, train murder mystery? Enjoy.

The words waltzed on the browning paper. Their movements flowed to the score of a spoon’s clacking of Aaron’s emptied cup. The two continued in symphony as his eyes followed the movement. He had long-since been accustomed to this particular piece, and it offered no obstacle.
Mr. Heit had always loved trains despite quarks like this. Ever since childhood when the trains finally made it to him, he always looked forward to them. Back then though, his father and mother took him nearly every weekend on the train, a joy he rarely managed nowadays. Still though, he loved what time he did manage to have on them.
The train always offered a tranquility that he had yet to find anywhere’s else. He didn’t have to skip lunch to make a meeting, and he wasn’t expected to drop everything and make supper on time. The Yin and Yang didn’t tear at him; they engulfed him.
A commotion out of him room syncopated the dance of his book, throwing Aaron’s eyes out of rhythm. He looked up in time to see a blur of clothes race by his glass.
“Hmm,” he pondered, “I suppose I could use some more coffee.” He slid the portrait of Franklin against the inside spine of the book and set it off to his table. He returned with his cup and porcelain plate to stand. The room was barely more than a cell. His chair appeared quite the antique, but the only parallel it had to one was the hours it had spent being used. The table was stained and chipped, looking barely worse than the blankets that apparently passed as a bed opposite the chair. Aaron truly did love the train.
He snagged his trilby and with a slide of the wooden partition gave way to the roar of the tracks. The disturbance tore from the right as the door slacked open to another car. As he scanned the rest of the car, the hall held another man. He collapsed into the grasp of the floor with drowned thwap.
With a flip, he flung the cup into his room and made into a sprint for the man. As Aaron stuttered to the floor, he spun him to his back. Blood slicked the stranger’s suit, and now he laid in an amassing puddle of it.
“Hey, buddy. Hey, pal.” Aaron offered him few quick slaps, but as they failed to gain the man’s attention, he looked back to the open door with a sigh. “Well, this is no bit good.” As he continued to gaze out, his fingers found the man’s throat. As his interaction with the man faileld yet again, he let another of his sighs out. “Completely ungood indeed.”

Listening to
The clock take my precious minutes away

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