It was cold, but he couldn’t go home, not with this beast trailing his shadow. What was he going to say? This thing would not stop following him. He kept circling around the block, and it was already half past 7. She must have known something was wrong. Why didn’t she call? As much as he tried to think of a way to legitimize his actions, one thing was clear. He could hardly bring a beast to dinner.
This day had started like any other. Beep beep beep, a cold shower, slightly burnt toast, lukewarm coffee, a scripted kiss, kids to school. And there it was. On his way to work, caressing the worn leather of the passenger seat, that’s when he first noticed it. A clump of energy, building rapidly around his pelvis. At first, it felt like anger. This pedestrian existence of his, there was no fun to be had. He was the victim. He had to be.
It was almost like an itch, a sensation that propelled him towards action. This ever-growing ball of matter, it demanded something. A sacrifice. And before he knew it, he had taken a left turn. Nothing wrong with that. People take left turns all the time.
He sat in his car for the better part of the day, staring at the flickering neon sign. Undress Express. What a cheap name, he thought, but this was all he could afford. He couldn’t really say when the beast had appeared. From the corner of his eye, he saw its form take shape. This thing just started chatting him up, taking way too much space on the passenger seat as his urges began to overpower him. With every hour that passed, the car seemed to grow smaller, the beast larger, pushing him out against the windshield. Suddenly, the car door snapped open, and he found himself on the parking lot concrete. He got up and looked back. The beast gave him a reassuring nod. This was the right thing to do.
Exactly 48 minutes passed until he was right back where he started, sitting within the familiar aluminum shell of his car. The scent of cheap perfume lingered, and he wanted to forget it as soon as the engine ignited. But the beast would not let him. The shame would follow him like a rainy cloud, right up to the holy grounds of the family dinner table. And as the night deepened, he knew that the beast was here to stay.
You’re currently exploring the narrative world of Whispering in Color. Each tale in this series delves into the relationships we maintain with our inner monsters. These creatures are manifestations of our fears, insecurities, and past experiences that often go unseen. These stories bring them into the spotlight, giving them form, color, and meaning.