I Bet You Think This Story's About You

I couldn’t believe my eyes. Of all the people, I sure didn’t expect to see him here. “Hey, wait up!” I stepped up my pace to catch him. Hustling around the people on the sidewalk, I made my way to where he stood. Traffic was buzzing by, exhaust fumes filling the air. He turned around, kind of a vague gaze in his eyes, then all of a sudden, POW!!! He recognized me. And well he should. Stopped in his tracks, he began fidgeting with his briefcase.

“Gee, where did you come from?” He seemed agitated. Like he didn’t know that I visited this neighborhood frequently, yeah, right. “So, how have you been?” I smiled and held out my hand. He hesitated, his eyes darting from right to left. Finally he stuck his hand out. His skin was bloated and the color mottled, kind of like a dead fish that has been in water for too long. I took his hand in my own. Yuck, it was clammy and damp, like a limp piece of spinach you’ve pulled out of the garbage disposal. I noticed that his forehead was glistening with perspiration. After what seemed an eternity, he let his hand fall out of mine. “Well, how are you doing?”. Looking him in the eye was impossible. He just could not make contact. “Okay I guess.” “How’s the wife?” “Who?” “Your wife, you know, Mary Jo.” I knew the skinny on what had happened, that he had just up and left them, abandoning them for selfish reasons. I just wanted to see if he could be truthful.

“Oh, I haven’t seen her for a while.” “Really? How are your boys?” He started to turn from me. I put my hands firmly on his shoulders, forcing him to face me. “Hey, what’s wrong? Is your family alright?” He shifted nervously. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen any of them for a while.” “Hmmmm….. What happened?” The crowds of people pushed past us impatiently. I drew him aside, closer to the buildings, away from the people and the street. “Oh, I don’t know, things just didn’t work out, business was bad, we lost our house, and I just kinda split.” I thought back to what I knew of this man.

When I first met him, I thought that he was pretty much okay. He appeared to be thoughtful and considerate, and certainly professional. But the longer I knew him I realized that he was an arrogant and somewhat spiteful man, a bit on the psychotic side. I became acquainted with the fact that he loved to splay others open, at least those who did not agree with him. I, unfortunately, was to become one of his hapless victims.

To Be Continued………

You can read part two here
and part three here

Text created by Susan Isabella Sheehan
“Art Is The Perception Of An Altered Reality©”
Copyright 2008 Surreal Digital Artist™

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I Bet You Think This Story's About You

Susan Isabella  Sheehan

SANTA CLARA, United States

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Artist's Description

A fictional account of being accountable.

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  • Damian
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