Shuffling papers, strewn all about the desk. It would take a while before anything came together, but a while was not an option. They had to be organized, and organized NOW. Maybe though, if he picked just one up… one at a time… funny though, how there wasn’t enough time… He should be home doing what he needed to do, but this was what he needed to do. It all made no sense. He wanted to ditch it all, but he could not envision it would be worth it. So he pushed his papers around in what he hoped was a meaningful order, and went onward with his day, somehow dreading the end of it.
The slow children sign crept up a little too fast, and he abruptly slowed down. He’d been in a panic all day, and couldn’t control himself. The car behind retained its speed, but came to a screeching halt when the first car backed off. Its horn punched through the neighborhood air, and the first driver winced upon hearing it. There’d be no convincing the asshole behind him that he was sorry, or to just obey the law and they’d both be in their respective driveways before they knew it. His breath rattled as he tried calming himself… if he sped like his follower, there would be a disaster for sure. Try and take it calmly, he told himself.
In the blink of an eye, he was home, and shakenly shut the door. Inside he knew he could not take rest. People would be there soon. Instead of pausing on the walkway in taking a breath, he pushed onward toward the glass screen door, the inner door to the house open. He shouldn’t change, but he knew he would have to. They would make him. His wife would be furious if the happenings of tonight occured in his work clothes.
She was zooming around, and he kept his head low as he shakenly went up the stairs, unsure if he wanted to continue with his night. It was unavoidable though; he could not go anywhere else, for no one wanted to do anything with him. He was stuck, in this nervous shaking manner the whole night, the whole day, what seemed as though his whole life.
The shower was nothing to relax him, and the man did nothing to try and get his nerves down as he dressed. His wife could’ve been screeching, possessed by some demon, but all he could hear were his own nervous thoughts. Reality did not exist to the man. Only the aura of fear and his own nervous thoughts. Fear of which way the night could disasterously go.
She grabbed him by the arm, shooting through the muffled daze he had been in. She turned his chin, and looked him in the eye. He looked her back, and he knew she could feel the fear. “If you mess up, it’ll all come apart. So just don’t mess up, don’t mention it, and nothing will happen.” She looked at him, knowing he was nervous, knowing all the shaking that was happening under his loose dress shirt. He watched her studying him, but did not realize the small slap that was coming his way. His vision seemed to shatter as it happened, and the sting was on his face. “Just don’t mention it.” She turned and left the room, leaving the door open as to show he had to come out. There was no barring him from the evening that was about to happen.
It wasn’t long before another car came to the driveway, and the wife was yelling his name to come down. He came down step by step, lips silent and gripping worriedly on the rail. He watched as an elderly couple came up to the porch, the wife letting him in, his wife in tow. He was walking again, the husband saw, a cane supporting his left side.
“I see you’re still driving,” The elder grumbled, glaring at the husband on the steps. He nervously nodded in response. “Car’s in a different place than last time.”
“Just…just to and from work, nothing more,” the husband said.
“Better be watching where you’re going,” the elder said, jutting his bad hip out the best he could. “Bunch of bullshit, going to the emergency room because you weren’t looking…”
This night was going to go fantastic.