Google Groups no longer supports new Usenet posts or subscriptions. Historical content remains viewable.
Dismiss

Cottage Creep - Chapter 12

0 views
Skip to first unread message

ugu...@nowhere.net

unread,
Feb 3, 2006, 1:21:54 AM2/3/06
to
Chapter 12

Tom spent the next 3 nights sleeping in the hammock on the
front porch. He would work during the day, and retire in the evening
to the front porch even though he would feel a draw, a pulling
sensation each time he approached the exit. He could not explain it
with anything he understood, so he decided it must be his imagination
sparked by his illness from earlier in the week. Tom was a practical
man, and he knew for certain there was no such thing as spirits and
ghosts, and the weird dreams he had were attributed purely to the odd
firing of synapse in his brain. The fever had further distorted his
perception, and there was nothing here but an old house which would
soon be the center of his future business.
Tom continued to dream each night but his dream lover was
mostly absent. He had vague recollection of a beautiful woman
pleading to him to do something, but he could not remember what. More
prominent in his waking memory was a group of people in a room, having
a discussion which he could neither remember the subject or time
frame. Surely it was his mind planning the future sessions of
personal motivation, groups here at a thousand dollars a head for a
week long seminar of positive reinforcement. These were his future
clients. The dream was alive and well, and progressing in the right
direction. He was comfortable that all was well.
That Friday, he received a call from his brother. Ron
informed him that Julie was scheduled for a business trip the
following weekend, and he would be free to come out and lend a hand.
Tom was delighted and asked him if he minded doing mud work. "Damn
brother, we have been doing mud work together since I was 5!"
"Well, I hope my walls don't end up looking like your mud
pies," Tom pleaded.
"No problem. I did the walls at our office, so I figured out
how to make them look pretty good. I'll bring my tools and some
supplies. You got the mud or you want me to pick it up on the way
in?"
"I'll get it," Tom informed his brother. "Do you think I
should get paper or fiberglass tape?"
"Get the fiberglass. It isn't as easy to work with, but the
corners hold up much better, and we're hoping for lots of traffic in
you office. So, I'll see you next weekend."
Tom felt great. He was excited that soon he would be painting
walls, seeing rooms completely finished. The progress had been steady
and the house was beginning to really look like a comfortable
surrounding. The work was draining, but it was going to be well worth
it. This was all part of his plan. All was well.
"What the hell am I doing?" he thought. "Why the hell am I
doing self motivation? My every thought is 'this is good.' 'this is
right.' What am I really thinking?" he queried himself. He walked
out on the front porch. He looked around. Next he walked out into
the front yard area, and turned to stare at the house. He stood there
for several minutes just looking. Then he got in his car, drove into
town, and got drunk.

0 new messages