All is Lost: A Tale of Disappointment in 3 Acts Read online



  All is Lost:

  A Tale of Disappointment in 3 Acts

  by Rich Young

 

  Text copyright © 2014 Richard Young

  All Rights Reserved

  Act One

  There was no reason for Sam to feel as sad as he did that day. His life was going along as planned since the time he started planning it. He was married with two kids, had a dog and a cat, and held a normal desk job.

  The truth is that the sadness started slowly as Sam stumbled through his hollow, meaningless life. The sorrow built up and built up until there was no denying that his demeanor had changed. His wife, Wife, and his children, Child 1 and Child 2, were moderately aware that his attitude had changed, but that realization brought with it only indifference. Sam knew that the love that had once bound this family had been torn apart by long working hours of both parents, electronic entertainment, and the busy schedules of the kids.

  Sam went to work every day and did the same thing there every day. He sat in the most uncomfortable chair at his unremarkable desk and typed meaningless words that he sent to meaningless recipients. He typed and typed proper business bullshit all day.

  The words had become so insignificant that he didn't even read them as he typed. A new message would appear, filled with the howling of corporate America, and he would vomit a vile response back at the sender. He would sometimes literally vomit in his garbage can when he thought about the disappointment that had become his life. The sickness was one thing, but the sadness was newer, and started after the disappointment had already set in.

  Even through the years of complacency, Sam had remained happy - sick, tired, frustrated, and bored, but generally happy. When the sadness started creeping in, Sam knew that he would be unable to stop moving along that road.

  On the worst day, his pale skin began to crawl on his way to the office. The voices and faces of his co-workers burned life from his mind. Sitting at the desk, his typing became louder and louder in his ears. He tried to tap the keys softer, but it did not help. Every mouse click was a grenade exploding inside his soul. Each bleep that accompanied a new message was the chime of a city clock ringing in his head. He threw up into his trashcan and sat staring at his screen with new messages popping up - unable to respond.

  The phone on his desk started to ring. The phone had been silent for a very long time. His boss was calling. Sam tried to explain away why, after so many years, he was taking too long to respond to messages. He said that he was not feeling well, then was reminded that sick days were to be scheduled at least a month in advance. Sam agreed to try harder and get his shit together. However, the messages continued to pile up in his inbox. Sam saw the computer as a source for his pain and turned the monitor off.

  Eventually, he stopped answering the phone as well. This went on for another hour before his boss threatened to make a visit to his desk. Actually, it was his new assistant that came to Sam's desk to announce that if Sam didn't start getting his messages answered he would be getting a personal visit from the man. Sam told her politely, and in the most politically correct, corporate-American way, that she could fuck off.

  Then, he called home, but Wife was fucking the neighbor, and she didn't answer her phone. He checked his Facebook account to see that both Child 1 and Child 2 were checked in at places other than school. Child 2 was at the arcade, and Child 1 was at the bar. She was only 16 (or 17, Sam could not remember for sure) but was able to get the bartenders to serve her drinks.

  The sickening sadness crept through Sam's body and forced him to stand up, pick up his lame-ass, uncomfortable chair, and throw it against the wall. It was loud, but the chair was barely damaged. Sometimes the meanest, most wicked things in life are made to last the longest. Sam kicked at the overturned chair and decided that it was not worth it to take out his feelings on this object. There were perhaps other objects that deserved his attention.

  The walls of the office started closing in around Sam while he stood up next to his desk. He let out a growl directed upwards at the ceiling or the sky on the other side of the ceiling, or God.

  A man that sat at a desk next to him for years asked him if he was alright. Sam knew him only as a man that sat next to him for years. Sam spit in his face and told him to burn in Hell. Then, he realized that this was Hell, and told the man to light himself on fire and watch himself burn.

  As soon as the words were spoken, Sam saw the shadow of something break off of from his body and towards the other man as he stood staring at Sam. From the bottom of the man's pant leg, the flames started. His polyester slacks burned, and he was engulfed in a blaze. He stumbled backward into his desk, and Sam could do nothing but watch. There was some slight satisfaction in having his words create something, anything.

  The man's desk had started on fire, then flames spread to some of the cubicle partitions. Sam decided in that moment that he needed to leave the office for the day. He reached for his phone to let his boss know that he would be leaving. Alarms were sounding, and Sam could not hear himself over the commotion. Throves of people were running for the exits and yelling.

  A woman touched his arm and he struck her in the mouth. She started bleeding profusely. Sam didn't know that he was still holding the receiver of his phone when he hit her. She went down to her knees and Sam kicked her over into the flames. Then he set the phone down and watched her writhe around for a few seconds. This was not nearly as much fun as he thought it should be. He almost felt guilty, but decided not to go there; instead, he walked to the exit door and left the burning building.

  Outside, Sam felt a cold chill run up his legs in spite of the heat emanating from the fire that had now grown out of control inside the office building. With the chill came a peaceful sound ringing in his ears. It was a low moan, comforting, like a Gregorian chant. He stood in the parking lot for a moment watching the fire consume his workplace. He continued to hear the chanting inside of him, then noticed that he no longer felt a slave to this place.

  Suddenly, he felt the need to see his family; to hold Wife and Child 1 and Child 2 close to him and feel their love- to know them again.

  Sam pulled his car out of the parking lot just as the fire department was arriving in an explosion of sirens and flashing lights.