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People Are Talking
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TITLE (EDIT)
People Are Talking
DESCRIPTION
-
[1,161 words]
AUTHOR
Erik Sjoen
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
-
[April 2003]
AUTHOR'S E-MAIL ADDRESS
[email protected]
AUTHOR'S OTHER TITLES (7)
021 Enter (Poetry) Do tell.. [829 words] [Popular Fiction]
15 Minutes Just Isn’T Enough (Poetry) - [233 words]
3193 25 Hours A Day (Poetry) - [509 words]
August 1963 (Poetry) Words. [352 words] [Science Fiction]
Murder By Slumber (Poetry) - [156 words] [Horror]
Variation On A Theme In The Key Of - Part Ii (Short Stories) - [5,231 words]
Waltzing Whatever (Poetry) - [240 words] [Cooking]
People Are Talking
Erik Sjoen

People Are Talking


“That will be all Sam. Thank you.”
“Sam?”
“Sam!!”

“Oh, lord. Please excuse me. I’ll just be on my way now. We’ll be in touch, right?” said Sam in his most schoolboy pitched voice.

“Of course we will Sam. Don’t forget your items. Rula, see Sam out please.”

Her admin briskly ushered him out to the hallway “Right this way Mr Sjoen”.

“We have all your information on file Mr. Sjoen. We will let you know the outcome within the week. Please verify your fingerprint here sir.”

Sam quickly lays his right palm onto the scanner in front of him. He seems a bit shifty. Unfocussed maybe. Not a good sign considering what he’s up for. Rula notices his disposition.

“Is something wrong Mr. Sjoen?” says Rula.

Sam, once again lost in his thoughts, turns to her smiling saying nothing. She inspects him suspiciously as he continues to pay little attention to her. Assuming he is just another chapter 13, she dismisses his strange demeanor and moves on to her other duties.

“Thank you sir.” she says.

Calmly Sam looks up and says “Uh, Ok. We’ll be in touch, right?” .

Rula observes his current state and looks away. His desperation spoke volumes. His last assignment was indeed his last as he was now a liability.

“That’s right sir. We’ll be in touch. The agency will contact you with your next initiative as usual. ”

Sam turns to the 10th floor window as his eyes meet the western setting sun. He is trying to make it remind him of anything, something. He just can’t nail it down.

“That will be all Rula.” Sam said to her with a winning smile.

Sam walks towards the elevator banks entering the elevator. On the way down the elevator stops on the 5th floor. A woman enters the elevator quickly and is talking to herself. She looked to be in her mid 40’s , well dressed, and wearing Channel. Not your typical wacko or street person. This caught Sam’s attention.

“So. where the fuck do YOU think he is?? What am I supposed to do, walk all over town calling his god damn name? He’s a fucking dog for Christ sake! He could be humping any tree within a 5-mile radius. Goddamn mutt son of a bitch. I could’ve had a god damn kid that would cause me less trouble. AHH, fuck it!!”

Sam just cowardly stepped back a foot or so in the elevator. Anything to avoid a confrontation or any type of situation that required use of his social skills. It seemed he was living in his own head so often now days that he could almost turn her off. He didn’t want to help her anyway. He had a mild contempt for people who would get that upset about loosing something, especially if they had control over loosing it. He hated those who lost control.

He paced her out of the elevator out onto Montgomery St. He somehow figured that her dog would be right there waiting for her and all would be right with the world. No such luck, as she ventured on bitching and bitching away. Hunger stuck like a knife as he took a left on Bush St. The bagel shop at the end of the block was his destination. What would it be today? Onion, Pizza, Garlic, Blueberry? Why so many damn choices? He quickly turns to the left as a well-dressed man screams by him.

“Fine then! I do what I want, when I want, where I want, with whom ever the hell I want! OH, you better fucking believe it! I will so! Nuh uh! Oh that’s it then. I wouldn’t have expected any less. Fuck me!”

“What the hell is going on here? Is everyone insane?” Sam thought.

The drugs were wearing off and these occurrences are becoming a little less tolerable. A bit of food would cure the null feeling. Then another screaming sound.

“Now? Are you sure? Oh Christ not me! Not ME!!” cried a young woman standing to his left.

“I give up!” she said, as her head hung low.

“Miss are you alright? Is there anything I can do?” Sam pleaded

She walked on as if he was never there. Sam clammed up and started to sweat. Anxiety was now hitting Sam hard. Cold sweats, stomach aching, and dizziness came crashing in. All his time in the field had really run him down to his last nerve. He felt like somehow this all had to do with him. He looked across the street to try to gain some sense of focus. But there they were again. People talking to themselves.

“So this is what they are trying to do. We’ll be in touch, huh? They want to test my psychological endurance? Bring it on then. I’m here people! Why don’t you try talking to me? Talk to me for fuck sake!?”

Everyone stopped talking for a moment, but never faced him. They then resumed their conversations, already in progress. Sam froze and looked down at his hands and then at his feet. He knew where he was. He knew it was a Tuesday. He knew this was happening but could not understand why. Was the Agency trying to drive him out on the grounds of mental incapacity? They couldn’t know about his drug habit. Hell, it was only a habit they created in the first place. Franticly, Sam races across the street to a man waiting at the bus stop only to find the man engulfed in conversation.

“OK, that I can do. But nothing more, nothing less. This is a business not a charity. By the way, it’s also my fuckin’ life if you haven’t noticed? It’s all about me, me, me isn’t it? I might as well be talking to a brick wall. ME, ME, ME! That’s all you ever think about. Well think about this! FUCK YOU!”

Sam approaches the man after he has had a moment of silence or so.

“Sir, if you don’t mind me asking, who were you just talking to?” Sam curiously asks.

“First of all I do mind, and second of all it was my goddamn greedy soon to be ex-wife. The selfish fucking cow thinks she is the only person in the world. You can talk and talk and talk but she only hears what she want’s to hear. God damn bleeding me dry with all this talking. Why the hell do you wanna know?”

“No reason in particular. It just looked like you were talking to yourself.” Sam said in a low voice.

“It’s a cell phone earpiece you moron. Jesus, you sure are a piece of work. All dressed up in a suit playing the part and you tell me you have never seen one of these? What, did you just wake up? Hey, you married?” the man asks.

“No, I’m not” said Sam.

“Well boy, do I got the girl for you. You two would get along like peas in a pod! Hold up a minute and I’ll give you her number.”









 

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COPYRIGHT NOTICE
© 2002 Erik Sjoen
STORYMANIA PUBLICATION DATE
April 2003
NUMBER OF TIMES TITLE VIEWED
1691
 

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