Hell Hath No Fury

14 - February 2004

Based on a writing challenge:
Write 400 words (or more) with sentences no longer than 7 words

Jeremy was dead. This surprised him. There are some things people don't expect. Death is a big one. Especially when one is so healthy. When one is so young. So popular. That's what Jeremy thought, anyway. Actually being dead wasn't that bad. It was like sleep, but longer. And more boring. You don't dream when you're dead. You reflect. You can only re-live events so often. Then the insanity hits. Well, that's what it felt like. Blinding, boring insanity.

In life Jeremy despised anything boring. Despised anything tedious. Anything plain. Unbeknownst to Jeremy, that's what killed him. He should have been at work that day. Should have been in a meeting. A meeting about office safety. A boring meeting. He wasn't. He left early, "feeling nauseated". Everyone knew about the lunchroom tuna. It was suspect. Jeremy simply plead pre-payday blues. Couldn't afford anything but the accursed tuna. His co-workers had all believed him. They all had been there. Especially around holidays. He'd spent too much on his wife. Their anniversary. It was understandable. Some would rather starve, some ate tuna. The tuna always fought back.

By one-thirty he was home free. He'd visibly bought the tuna. He'd just not eaten it. Tuna was boring. He instead treated himself to sushi. A rainbow roll and an Alaskan roll. And two of his favorite, tuna roll. He fancied the server favored him. She smiled big when she served him. She kept glancing at him. She refilled his drink diligently. So attentive, she must like him. Jeremy didn't notice the lack of patrons. Didn't notice her hurried pace. The calculating stares. He didn't recognize her. Didn't know he should. Or that she hoped he didn't. He didn't see her fear. Her desire for revenge. Jeremy left "Suichi no Sushi" satiated.

Jeremy didn't remember much about college. All his classes were boring. Not worth the time. Or the money. He joined a fraternity to relieve boredom. He'd attended almost every function. Most of those were boring, too. They were all the same. Loud music, beer, girls. Girls had never been a problem. Most swooned at the sight of him. Or spoke in whispered giggles. It was a perk of being attractive. And he knew how to be charming.

Stacey was a rare one. She didn't blush when he approached her. She didn't giggle. Didn't seem interested. It had excited Jeremy. She was not a clone. She was a challenge. He told himself she was being coy. That she was shy. That she wanted it. She certainly hadn't complained. But then, no co-ed did. He was what they desired.

In the morning, she was gone. Stacey didn't come to any more parties. Frat brothers asked about her. Were they dating? "No. We had fun, but she's too plain. I could never date someone like her." The allegations of rape were quelled. The fraternity's housemother "chatted" with Stacey. Convinced her not to press charges. Jeremy was never told. He lived with a clean conscious. Until he at a bad tuna roll.

Twenty minutes after lunch he was lightheaded. The sun seemed too bright. He blinked, then stumbled. He righted himself and continued, eyesight failing. He didn't see Stacey watching him. Didn't see the curb. Or the oncoming truck. The last thing he heard was laughter. Smug, self-justified laughter. Then he was alone in darkness. Nothing. No body. No sound. An eternity of insanely boring nothing.