9-26-13 3 step prompt, picked at random. Write about –
A thought: That bunny has nice long ears he can tug on when he’s anxious.
A feeling: Lassitude
A sensation: I feel as though spiders were crawling on my skin.
I awoke with a start. The clock on the bedside table read 3:21. I didn’t know what it was that had spooked me, but I felt as though spiders were crawling on my skin. I pulled the covers up around my chin and rolled to my side to increase the contact on my body. I needed that sense of being touched to feel safe. The spiders slowly left, and I lay on my side in the dark, pondering life and my place in it.
Work had been going downhill fast. I started something, and was overcome with lassitude halfway through the job. I had to force myself to work these days. Thoughts of poverty didn’t help. Homelessness in this Valley was beginning to seem like sitting in the lap of luxury. What could I do to motivate myself? Lying in bed until 7 am wouldn’t do it anymore. Clients don’t stand for lateness more than two or three times. Pretty soon the calls would become few and far between. I resolved to do better, and closed my eyes.
When I awoke, it was 7:30, and the alarm clock had been shut off. Now I knew I was in trouble. I didn’t even remember my self-destructive behavior anymore. I threw my clothes on, brushed teeth and hair, and ran to the van. My resolution had been hijacked by fate.
Painting in the morning went well. Carpentry and a bit of trim work went okay in the afternoon. That evening, the newly installed toilet leaked for fifteen minutes before I tightened the right bolt. I didn’t dare charge what the job was worth. I felt bad for the client because my heart didn’t seem to be in it.
I dragged myself home and collapsed into bed. Isn’t this where it all started? Come on, spiders, do your thing. I thought about writing for a little while, but couldn’t come up with anything. Good for me. First workers block, and now writers block. I pulled the blanket tight, the autistic in me wanting full contact.
The clock read 3:11 when I awoke this time. Still black as night. Funny, that expression. Could you use it when describing nighttime? I rolled over and turned on the light, squinting to avoid the “sudden light” headache. I sensed a small movement in the far corner of the bedroom, and sat bolt upright. There, sitting in the corner of my bedroom, was a larger than life cartoon bunny, dressed in a light blue suit with black slippers on. It sat there, looking scared and glum, and pulled on it’s ears. I didn’t know which of us was more surprised.
From my position in bed, I studied the bunny for a while without making a move or sound. I didn’t want to scare the little thing. I did for a moment wonder where reason had gone. Perhaps I was actually still asleep. I pinched myself on the left arm, not hard enough to really hurt but just to check. When I did this, I saw the bunny flinch. Curiouser and curiouser. I tipped my head to the side a bit, and the bunny blinked. I crossed my legs and folded my hands in my lap. Bunny looked ready to run through the wall. Should I? I wondered. What the hell.
“Excuse me,” I said in a quiet voice, “but can I help you with something?”
Bunny leaned forward a bit, and wiggled its nose at me. It did release it’s ears and sit back a bit, looking slightly more relaxed.
“Are you a boy bunny or a girl bunny?” I said.
Can you imagine a rabbit giving me a look as though I was the biggest moron it had ever met? Cocked head, cocked eyebrow.
“Would you like to join me up here where it’s cozy?” I asked.
Bunny hesitated a bit, then moved forward and hopped up onto the bed, scrabbling with its hind legs for traction and moving over to my side. I lay down facing the bunny and just looked at it. It hunkered down, closed its eyes, and was asleep.
Well, as Robert Heinlein once said, “There was nothing I could do, so I took a nap.” I rolled over to turn the light off, and lay myself down to sleep.
When I woke up in the morning, it was a minute to five; my usual time to rise, and the bunny was still there. I got up fior my morning ablutions, came in to dress, and got out of the house to go to work. Mr. Bunny would have to fend for himself.
I felt good about work, and the bunny stayed with me for a good long while. We became companions, and motivators. I kept working, and the bunny relaxed in my company. I had no idea what it did while I was out for the day, but it was always there in the evening. Welcome home.