Sick Day

Kenny looked at the clock by his bed, then got up and went to the window. Her Celica drove down their street and vanished from view. 

He looked down at the driveway, now empty.  His mom’s car had been there a moment before and now it was like it’d never been there.

He took a deep breath and held it. He listened to the sounds of the house, hummings and clickings.  He’d never noticed before how many sounds there were. They went on whether he was there or not.

He wondered if this was what it was like to be dead.

Friday Fictioneers

13 thoughts on “Sick Day

  1. Dear SWR,

    As I’ve ‘suspected’ all along. At any rate, you and yourself are in glad company and I’m glad to read you.

    Shalom,

    Rochelle otherwise known as the Purple Princess

  2. You’ve written an interesting story, Randy. Your last line almost suggests that we need the presence of other people to validate our own existence. There’s some nice description, too.

  3. This one made me think that Kennys mother had just died and that he had sold her car and the new owner had just driven off with it. Such morbid musings are not uncommon when someone has recently experienced such a loss, at least in my experience. Reading a bit too much in to it probably.😊 Nice story.

  4. Great way to make it “official-like” 😉
    And, once the discomfort of realising he’s alone wears off, who knows what trouble he will get into!

  5. I have never lived completely alone, but I have spent hours alone here and there. It’s true. A house has a life of its own, especially in this electrical age.

  6. It is sometime interesting to speculate whether we do exist without other people to confirm our presence. I really enjoyed your description of a house containing only one living person.

Whatever.