“Hey, mister,” the cab driver said, dragging him back up to the real world. “We’re here.”
The woman had a soft, pleasant voice with a roundness to her vowels and a heavy sound to her ‘t’s. Freddy blinked and ground a fist into his dry, gritty eyes. The cab driver smiled at him in the rearview mirror. There was a peaceful understanding to her eyes. “Can you wait?” he croaked.
“Do you have a credit card?”
Freddy tossed her the orderly’s wallet and pushed open the door, stepping out into deserted residential street. The houses were the same, squatting on small plots of lawn behind chain link fences. The neighborhood had gone neither up or down hill since his last visit, but there was something decidedly missing. The house on the corner, with its little round windows peeking out from under the eaves and its misaligned brick porch, it just wasn’t his anymore. He didn’t have to go inside to see it, but he did. He opened the window in the garage and slipped into the house, staring at the strange furniture and the strange photographs in the blue light of the moon. The people in them looked happy enough and the rich, new carpet felt good under his cold bare feet.
The spare bedroom door opened and out of it came a solemn sleepy looking girl, not much older than five, with a mop of frizzy, brown hair and an over sized Batman T-shirt. She padded to the middle of the living room, then looked up at him and blinked.
“Hello,” she said.
Freddy smiled at her in an attempt, and likely failure, to avoid looking intimidating. She eyed him suspiciously for a long moment.
“Are you a friend of Mommy’s?” she asked.
Freddy shook his head.
“I was getting a glass of water,” she explained. “Can I get you something?”
“Do you have a phone book?”
She led him into the kitchen with a childish confidence. Freddy wasn’t sure if she was blissfully stupid or half convinced she was dreaming. Either way, she flipped on the light, dragged a stool from the corner to the kitchen sink and got herself a glass of water. The kitchen was a subtle yellow, very different from the color Freddy had picked so long ago. The cabinets were new too, in a solid, modern style that made the space look smaller, but more imposing. The child put her glass in the sink, returned the stool to its corner and then pulled a phone book out of its cubby underneath the answering machine.
She stood there watching him with wide eyes as he opened it on the counter. There were no Newandykes listed and Freddy panicked silently for a moment before paging back to H.
Re: Fill 2/X
The woman had a soft, pleasant voice with a roundness to her vowels and a heavy sound to her ‘t’s. Freddy blinked and ground a fist into his dry, gritty eyes. The cab driver smiled at him in the rearview mirror. There was a peaceful understanding to her eyes. “Can you wait?” he croaked.
“Do you have a credit card?”
Freddy tossed her the orderly’s wallet and pushed open the door, stepping out into deserted residential street. The houses were the same, squatting on small plots of lawn behind chain link fences. The neighborhood had gone neither up or down hill since his last visit, but there was something decidedly missing. The house on the corner, with its little round windows peeking out from under the eaves and its misaligned brick porch, it just wasn’t his anymore. He didn’t have to go inside to see it, but he did. He opened the window in the garage and slipped into the house, staring at the strange furniture and the strange photographs in the blue light of the moon. The people in them looked happy enough and the rich, new carpet felt good under his cold bare feet.
The spare bedroom door opened and out of it came a solemn sleepy looking girl, not much older than five, with a mop of frizzy, brown hair and an over sized Batman T-shirt. She padded to the middle of the living room, then looked up at him and blinked.
“Hello,” she said.
Freddy smiled at her in an attempt, and likely failure, to avoid looking intimidating. She eyed him suspiciously for a long moment.
“Are you a friend of Mommy’s?” she asked.
Freddy shook his head.
“I was getting a glass of water,” she explained. “Can I get you something?”
“Do you have a phone book?”
She led him into the kitchen with a childish confidence. Freddy wasn’t sure if she was blissfully stupid or half convinced she was dreaming. Either way, she flipped on the light, dragged a stool from the corner to the kitchen sink and got herself a glass of water. The kitchen was a subtle yellow, very different from the color Freddy had picked so long ago. The cabinets were new too, in a solid, modern style that made the space look smaller, but more imposing. The child put her glass in the sink, returned the stool to its corner and then pulled a phone book out of its cubby underneath the answering machine.
She stood there watching him with wide eyes as he opened it on the counter. There were no Newandykes listed and Freddy panicked silently for a moment before paging back to H.