(855) 4-ESSAYS

Type a new keyword(s) and press Enter to search

Short Story

            He lifted his nose inhaling the scents deeply. Diesel fumes, car exhaust, and filth. The man wrinkled his nose in disgust. .
             "How do these filthy people stand it?" He murmured to himself as he walked down the street. Not caring to step aside to remove himself from many people's chosen path he jostled them continuously. Some looked up, as if to remark, or something more severe, but his glares quashed their anger and annoyance immediately. After meeting his eyes the averted theirs and hurried on. .
             Sneering in contempt he marched on, never wavering in his stride. He was making his way to the centre of the city, where he was to perform his task in concert with the rest of his companions scattered across the world. Tonight their time would come again.
             As he neared his destination a smile crept unto his face. It was nearly time, after so many years of being scorned, and forgotten. He threw back his head and laughed maniacally. So many years had driven him insane, yet he cared not; he felt the madness, had made peace with it, it was part of him now and it was the only thing that would allow him to restore order and have his vengeance.
             He began across a street without looking to either side. He felt the place where he must be, it was near, so near. Anticipation filled his body, making him many more times aware than he had in ages. Tires screeched as he stepped off of the curb. Looking to his right he saw the headlights careening toward him. He extended his right arm until it was parallel with the ground. His hand open, palm outward, fingers splayed he stood. .
             A grin consumed his face, insanity shone in his eyes. He continued on into the street, all traffic had stopped and people stared, jaws hanging loosely. .
             Stopping in the middle of the street he stood, head down, eyes closed. Soon, so soon. Anticipation grew to an ache in his soul. His eyes snapped open, his head whipped up, and he spoke, the sound was so great that it carried for hundreds of miles, it was felt rather than heard.

Essays Related to Short Story

Got a writing question? Ask our professional writer!
Submit My Question