There's somebody standing in the corner of my room.
He showed up yesterday. Waltzed in through the front door like he owned the place. Maybe he does, actually. I certainly don't.
I've been here for a couple of months. When the sun's up, I'm usually out doing something else, like fishing in the creek out back, or building a dam with rocks and fallen branches. It passes the time. Every now and then it even gets me something to eat.
But in all my time here, I'd never known anyone to even step off the sidewalk onto the lawn. Never really thought about whether anyone else might have an interest in the place. It's big and old and ugly. There are probably a bunch of different kinds of toxic molds growing in my lungs from what I breathe all night.
So why is the guy standing there in the corner? Maybe he wants to use my room for himself. I should tell him there are other rooms downstairs. One of them even has a bed in it.
It probably isn't that. He's always trying to make eye contact with me, and little throat noises. It's actually really creepy. Makes it hard to go to sleep.
Makes it hard to wake up, too.
The problem with this is that now I really want to know more... haha. Great work.
I got the impression of an introverted child realizing the existence of his parent for the first time. Which makes the child a bit thick and quite precocious at the same time. Great character :)
I write 50-word stories at www.FiftyWordStories.com. I post a story every weekday, with guest submissions featured on Mondays.
I enjoy writing all kinds of microfiction, and I love seeing what other people come up with.
There's somebody standing in the corner of my room.