Hey you people.
(“You people!” you shout, wondering whether you are one of the you’s in question, or, if not, perhaps you can be empathetically on the side of whichever who the you represents.)
Enough chicanery—you “hear” in whatever voice inside your head you have assigned to these words when you read them, as I brazenly break the fourth wall and address you as the myself in your mind….
…this week’s segment is touch short, and that is because out of the three weekends in February so far, I was out of town for two of them and independently committed for all three days of the last one. Long story short, normal life stuff takes time and I did that instead of writing (plus some laziness).
As such, I’ve run out of the my backlog of written story so far, and throw in a 10 hour workday today (which was supposed to include a two-hour break to write some more), and this week’s entry is on the shorter end.
I’ll do my best to get more out for next week. Until then, let’s get into it.
(Link to the previous entry, in case you missed it, and a link to the beginning if this is your first time here.)
Interlude
David brought another pot of coffee from the mess hall into the main unit of the station. As he poured the steaming liquid into the mugs on the table, he could not help but doubt the young man who had appeared from the ice. At first, David had been so excited at the prospect of proving his theory that he had listened earnestly, but soon his scientific instincts triggered a nagging skepticism as Lee recounted more of his story—it was simply too fantastical. Questions flooded his mind.
Had Lee really been on that crashed plane? Could he have snuck onto the base somehow, or snuck into the cave? Were there really glowing blue men, animal-headed shamans, and torture pits under the ice? Were the passengers truly massacred—or what if Lee simply survived by being the last one standing—and this story was merely the rambling of a boy who’d lost his mind after living off the frozen bodies of his fellow passengers—could that have sustained him for the past nine years? What if Lee was the one who hurt Runa and Erika down in the cavern?
The questions had no immediate answers, and were nearly as fantastical as the story itself, which was frustrating. And Amanda’s corroboration only served to complicate the matter. She allegedly witnessed the blue men, and she claimed Lee saved her life. He had made no move to hurt anyone as of yet, so it was probably best to let him continue recounting his tale and wait to voice any concerns until later.
David finished topping off the others’ mugs. Amanda was still wrapped in her blanket, eagerly lapping up every word from the young man. His chiseled torso was still shirtless—he had even refused one when offered—and David had not missed where his daughter’s eyes wandered. Rolf was scowling in his chair, arms crossed. He had barely budged since Lee began. It was hard to tell how much he understood, and from the look on his face, David felt like he might leap over the table at any moment to strangle any one of them. Mikkel sheepishly sipped from a refreshed mug of coffee, either still ashamed of his cowardly desire to flee, or fearing another fiery reaction from Rolf. Either way, it was clear now that he was weary of both Rolf and the young man.
David refilled his own mug and sat down at the table. He rubbed a hand against the stubble on his chin as he leaned back and sipped at the coffee. Whatever the truth of the matter, it was time for the young man to continue.
And that’s it for now folks
Thanks for reading! I’ll try to post another segment by next Tuesday, so keep an eye on your inbox.
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©Xavier Macfarlane 2024. All rights reserved.
Short, but I think this perspective adds a good deal to the narrative.