A Short Story: 3 hours, 53 minutes and 30 seconds ago

I found this story during my backlogging of documents. It was written about two years ago and I have little memory writing it.

3 hours, 53 minutes and 30 seconds ago

By Jonah Hache

The sound of screeching wheels from beside our apartment complex jumps into our window from the other room. Shaun and Jamie are alarmed. I’m not so calm myself. Ewan comes storming into our living room yelling in fear where me, Jamie and Shaun sit vegetated. Ewan’s on day two of celebrating his birthday and at this very moment has decided to abandon his consistent elevation of obscurity and settle down to watch a movie with us.

We couldn’t decide what to watch. The choices were everywhere. Ewan first suggested the 80’s B non-classic Dr. Mordrid, a film where, if I were twelve years old, I would have fast forwarded for the 1 cordial nudity scene. Suffice to say, me, Jamie and Shaun, who were still recovering from the thought of what Ewan was up to moments before he entered our apartment, had other films in mind. Shaun had earlier stepped into the living room with a full supply of films wearing a bloody TV Rentals T-shirt with the nametag “Earl” loosely hanging onto it. Jamie suggested one of Shaun’s choices Gonzo and we all agreed over our second choice Zombie Strippers and third choice, the illustrious Dr. Mordrid. Watching a film about Hunter S Thompson seemed to really identify with Ewan. He’d step into the other room to fiddle with the window blinds.

“You’re bending them” I said.

No reply.

The evening was turning out to be a success, but suddenly... I lost consciousness. When I woke up everything was different. I looked around. My visuals weren’t even connecting with what made sense. Shapes were different and gravity was looser. I felt sick to my stomach. I didn’t know how or where to sit. Dizzy, I feared loosing consciousness again. This immediately put me out. Blackness. Nothing. I try to say something but nothing comes out. I’m not even there nor can I hear or see what I am. Pop. I’m back. It’s been 5 seconds and I’m figuring out what the D L is. It’s blurry. Focus sets in. I’m in the livingroom, typing every single thing I just wrote. I pause.