Killing Autumn

I can’t really figure out the worst part of this story.  I think I might just hate everything equally.  Now if that doesn’t scream out positivity, I don’t know what the hell does.

He looked at me with a smug look, I suppose was in triumphant response to the perplexed one I shot towards him.  I mean, for starters, I stared at myself.  To be more detailed about it, I stared at what I thought to be my reflection.  But of course, that couldn’t be a reality if I was standing here, listening and confused, while at the same time, I also stood there throwing out sarcastic babble.

Dream.  This is a dream.  Was a dream?  Is a dream.

What the hell was I talking about before?  A story?  Something terrible.  A series of terrible events.  Because not just one thing terrible could have happened, it had to be multiple terrible things.  Otherwise, I wouldn’t have had such sarcastic banter with myself.

Trying to piece back my previous thoughts, all the while arguing and fighting myself with my current thoughts, I somehow remembered thinking, “well, it can’t get much worse than having just murdered someone”.  So I guess I murdered someone.

I looked down at what was cold tiled flooring.  I stood in those tacky cliché black and white tiled kitchens.  How did I know the floor was cold?  Not sure.  Because I was wearing socks.  But it sure as hell looked cold, because that’s what kitchen floors are.  Cold.  Even in the summer.

Anyways, I stood in the middle of the kitchen floor, without any sort of sense of where I was.  Aside from being in the middle of the kitchen floor.  Redundant thoughts.  Anyways, yeah.  I wasn’t even standing on one of these giant tiles, I was like a chess piece that couldn’t decide which square I was on, with both feet resting on separate tiles.  I don’t know.

But yeah, so I guess I murdered someone.  But there was no body.  So why was that even a thought?  I didn’t even have anything to murder anyone with.  There was a leaf blower in the corner, which was completely irrelevant, but really out of place that I had to mention it.  And I don’t even know how I’d go about killing someone with that as my primary weapon.  Unless they were a leaf.

This was written without any direction.  I may continue it, may not.  It was done so to try to keep a creative mindset while struggling with purposeful writing lately.