On The Turning Away
Everyone approaches a disaster differently. Some cry. Some gasp. Some become filled with a righteous fury. Some freeze. Some leap into action. They are the rarest of us all. But what of those that simply do nothing? What of those that only turn away and continue on with their lives?
What must it take for someone to turn from tragedy with the same amount of energy as they would take walking away from a bug on the sidewalk or a leaf fluttering in the breeze? What must go through their minds as they continue on through their daily lives? Do they consider what they have seen? Do they let it slide? Do they even spare a moment’s thought to the horror they have witnessed or are their lives too important for those of others to matter?
It is of consequence, then, that Dr. Mark Symons woke up one day and decided that he would not be deterred from his daily routine. All too often, he would be forced to change to accommodate the lives of others, but no more, he told himself. For today, for this one day, he was going to focus on what he had to do and only that.
He went about his normal morning without much fuss. Breakfast. Shower. Shave. Dress. Drive. Park. Coat. Do rounds. The usual. He, however, did not pay much attention to those crying out for his attention. He had names on his clipboard to attend to and those would be the names he managed today. Those would be all the names he managed today.
It was midway through the day when he found himself growing sleepy. A consequence of not sleeping well at night, he frequently found that exhaustion at some points during his days. He would always brush them off and continue about his business and, then, not sleep well that night as usual. A pattern, a habit, a routine. A nap would be ideal, he thought. Normally, he would not allow himself the time or space for such a luxury. However, today was his day and he would do as he damn well pleased.
He went into his office, unplugged his phone, stretched out on his couch, and let himself drift off to sleep. He was only awakened by the loud crash of the roof of his office collapsing, pinning him to the couch. What had happened, he would never know. What he did know was that he was unable to move. He tried to call for help, but his door was shut and the thick wood remained intact.
Through the window of his office, he could see others looking on in shock, but then going about their lives. You see, nobody knew he was in there. They assumed he would hear about the collapse and would be furious, so they did not want to be anywhere near this place when he arrived. So, help arrived in their own time, as there was no rush.
Help came too late.
Here is where I''ll post random stories that aren't, as of yet, in a larger book. Call it a free ride into the mouth of madness, yo.