BurningExample - Capture

It isn’t something you joke about—either you’re free, or you’re not. In my case, I’ve been living as a captive ever since I graduated high school. I’m married to my work and a constant headache graces my brain whether I’m awake or asleep.
Today, I wake up with a clear head. It’s unusual, but I’ll take it over grogginess any day. The sun is shining through the cracks of my blinds and I can’t wait to get up and open them.
When I do, I realize that the air outside is still and that my apartment is quieter than normal. Mahogany, my puppy, isn’t at my feet when I get out of bed. She isn’t scratching at her empty food dish. The day is growing stranger, and I want my puppy at my side. She is the small comfort I get when I come home after a long day; she’s at my side during work and play.
“Mahogany?” like a magic trick, she is running through my halls at attention. She sits before me like a soldier, and I can’t help but scratch behind those little black ears. I begin my lonely morning routine, my dog finally acting herself.
As I slip on my slippers and start toward the kitchen, I can’t help but think that something is a little off, but I don’t pay any attention to it. The door is bolted and it’s so chilly outside that I keep the windows closed. So I proceed to the kitchen and press the “brew” button on my coffee maker. I don’t want to wait the twelve minutes it takes to finish a full pot of coffee, so I try to distract myself by playing tag with Mahogany. Thinking at least ten minutes have passed, I glance back up at the coffee maker, only to realize that only four minutes and seventeen seconds have gone by. You can imagine my distress: weird day, no coffee, nothing to do. I begin to pace my house, longing for someone to talk to.
I could go to the phone and dial any number of people to have a mindless conversation with, but instead, I decide to spend the remaining six minutes or so getting ready for work. There’s no need to shower, I took a bath to calm my nerves the night before.
I walk into the bedroom and throw on the first shirt, pants, and pumps I can find. I have no desire to dress up for another day at work where no one looks at me anyway. And since I’m usually stuck at my desk making calls anyway, I can’t fathom spending more than five minutes picking out an outfit and putting it on.
As I’m playing with my hair in the mirror, I notice a familiar sound coming from outside the bedroom. When I finally realize that it is the repetitive beep of my phone being off the hook, I roll my eyes and look at Mahogany, who’s been standing by, waiting for me to pay attention to her. She bows her head in shame; she has been up half the night making a mess, and she knew that sooner or later, I would find out.
I put my slippers back on my feet and slide across the wood floors to my living room, which I am expecting to find in shambles. The day keeps getting stranger. The only mess is Mahogany’s spilled water in her corner and, strangely enough, the telephone which is off the hook on the couch.
How could she have managed to pick up the phone? I wonder. I pick up the phone and place it back in its receiver. It’s nothing out of the ordinary; the phone just fell. As I am walking to the kitchen to get a towel, the lights flicker. Since it’s been so quiet, I can’t help but jump at the surprise. But in an instant, they are back on, not even out long enough to scramble the time on my microwave. I make a mental note to talk to management about the flicker and continue towards my kitchen drawer. I pull out my least favorite towel and proceed to clean up Mahogany’s mess in the corner. “This better be water, miss!” I say, calling to wherever she may be hiding. I leave the towel on top of the mess and go to check my coffee. The power flicker has reset nothing but the coffee machine. Just my luck.
I poor the lukewarm drink into a Travel Mug and go to the bedroom to slip my heels back on. I put my slippers under the bed, hoping I’ll remember them later, and start towards the door.
Mahogany isn’t happy to see me go, and that makes me smile. I crouch down to pet her one last time before leaving. She’s happy, so I am too. I then sling my bag over my shoulder, reach in for my keys, and head out the door.
As I am putting my key in the door, I hear my phone start to ring. I curse under my breath (I would never do it out loud) and let the answering machine get it. Sure, someone wants to talk to me now. As I’m leaving.
I hear my answering machine pick up. “Hi, leave me your name, your…” it doesn’t finish; instead it cuts off in the middle of my recorded message. “Must not be important,” I think, shrugging it off and locking the door.
I finally make it across the parking lot to my car. I put my bag, full of the only things in my life of any importance (other than my dog, of course), in the passenger seat and walk around to the driver’s side door. I’m fumbling with the ignition when I realize I’ve forgotten to refill Mahogany’s water bowl. I can’t decide whether to turn my car off or let it warm up while I tend to my puppy, so while I am deciding, I open the door and let my left leg hang out. It’s chilly outside, but the sun is warm, so I open my door wider to let its rays in.
It must have been a mistake to decide to open my door, because as soon as I do, a bee or some other horrible insect attacks my neck. Angrily I grab at the spot the little bugger got me. The thing in my hands is not a bee, however. It doesn’t even feel like an insect. It is certainly not alive.
I don’t know what it is, and I can’t help but concentrate on nothing but this fact. I’m tuned in to the point that nothing else matters. I don’t care that the sun is going away, that my car is still running, that there are footsteps coming toward me… I only care that there is a something falling to the floor and I want to know what it is. It bit me; I have the write to know.
I try to look down at the thing that attacked me but when I turn my head, I feel drunk. Since I can’t turn my head rapidly, I use my hand to reach for the thing that I want so desperately to know about. It bites me again, I throw it for the pain, and the sun is disappearing.
And it does disappear, though I don’t know it. I’m still thinking about the biting thing, where it came from, and suddenly, who is walking towards me.

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