It’s 9 pm, and you start to feel the first signs of exhaust. Your limbs feel heavy, as if you’ve been thrown around all day. You’re sitting in the living room in front of the television. Your eyes follow the pixels on the screen and your vision slowly begins to blur. 10 minutes passed. You realize you haven’t understood a word from what the colorful humans in the digital world have tried to communicate to you. Their words suddenly turn into phrases again and your vision is no longer blurry. You regained your thoughts, but you’ve already forgotten what you were thinking about just a moment ago. Suddenly, your eyes lock on a spot on the ceiling. A black dot. Has it always been there? Your attention drifts once again from the television but now to the ceiling.
You look at the black dot for a second. Is it moving? You look at it for longer. It definitely seems to move. Whatever that black dot may be, it probably wants to be left alone. After all, it must probably already been scared by the piercing stare you gave it a few seconds ago. You try to look at the television again, but now the black dot seems more present than ever. It almost feels like a black hole, sucking in your attention. You give in, and give it another deep look. It didn’t actually move. This time, the black dot is standing completely still. Strange. You were almost convinced it was alive, and that it was trying to communicate with you by drawing your attention. Now you know there’s nothing there. Your mind is at rest again, knowing it was false alarm.
A few minutes pass. You try to do a guessing game with yourself about what the story that the television is trying to tell you is even about. A woman in a red dress exits a black car. The car shone so bright in the sun, the entire scene drew your attention to the car instead. How would they be able to recreate something like that? How do the pixels know that they need to be a shiny black car, and not a tall woman in a red dress? You dwell into your thoughts again and try to think about a logical explanation, but throughout the entire time you spent wondering over a black dot on the ceiling and over a black car on the television, the thought to take a look at the clock hasn’t come up even once.
You’re still deep in your thinking when you hear a knocking sound. You snap back and look at the television. Naturally, since it was the object that was right in front of you. The woman that stepped out of the shiny black car is now walking over a wooden floor with a brown carpet. Her high heels making a thud with every step she takes. It must’ve been the television. You follow the woman over a maze of hallways, while hearing every step she takes on the hard wood floor. You hear knocking again. This time you’re sure it’s not the woman in the red dress.
You reach for the crusty and old controller that was next to you on the couch and gently press on the pause button. The screen freezes. You move your legs up, and as you relocate your body weight and get ready to get up, your head starts feeling funny. Your vision gets obstacled by strange light visuals and your head spins slowly. You vaguely remember the teacher explaining this occurrence in biology class years ago, but as you dig yourself into your memory, the knocking sounds yet again across the room. This time, a faster knock. Whatever is behind that door, it is getting very impatient.
You move your legs up and you walk towards the door. Finally, your fingers feel the cold door handle. You wrap your fingers around the handle and force it down. Slowly, the door pulls open. In front of you stands a short old woman. Presumably 50 years old. Brown messy hair that was dyed to hide the grey hair and could probably use a comb, red lipstick, and a black shiny purse are the first things that draw your attention.
“Hello,” she says. Her voice sounded a bit rougher than what would suit her. “I am here to review your house.” You observe her again. This time from top to bottom. She continues to talk. You are not very interested in what she says, but it suddenly seems so fascinating to you that this woman is standing in front of you. You look at her clothing, her purse, her boots and every little detail on her outfit. “Hello” says the woman again. “Are you even listening?”
You try not to look her in the eye. You instead look at her face. An awkward silent follows which lasted for about 4 seconds. She wants a reply. She wants you to say something to her. “Yeah” you mumble. The woman looks at you with big pupils. Even without looking her in the eye you know she is staring directly at you. You feel uneasiness, because you know she obviously lost her patience. For some reason, you only came to this conclusion now.
She continues. You’re now paying attention to scratches on the doorframe. You don’t remember throwing the door shut, let alone throwing it hard enough for it to be able to create scratches. The woman moved in front of you, blocking your view of the doorframe. She now looks even angrier. “So,” she said, in a slightly irritated tone. “Shall we have a look?” You have no clue what she was talking about just now, but you move your body towards the wall and let her walk inside.
This is an experimental piece. I also tried writing it from a very specific view.
This is just a single story and will have no follow-ups and whatnot.
