Chapter One.
Alfred J. Simonsen. Saturday 9th, 13:21
As Alfred J. Simonsen waited for his friend to pick him up, he stared into the dark rain thrashing onto his conservatory roof. He was pleased with the new side-room to the house he had owned with his wife for 34 years before she passed two months ago. He sat there most of the day, he could watch the sun rise in the morning, and then watch the whole day pass by, then stare at the stars and wonder whether his wife was looking down on him, or whether she simply did not exist in any kind anymore. The former possibility was the idea he favoured this afternoon, he assumed it was because of the fact he was leaving her for a few hours.
Richard was taking him bowling. Alfred loved to bowl. But he hadn’t been since she had died. Silence, except for the sound of the rain. He could feel so relaxed at this time, it was almost as if he could forget she had gone.
Buzz. Silence broken. Alfred’s door bell rang, a short sharp blast.
Unusual, as Richard often let it ring for longer, knowing that couldn’t hear the door all the way from the conservatory. But Alfred did hear it. It was too quiet in his house today. He wearily rose from the armchair he was sitting.
“Hello....Richard, I’ll just get my coat.” He headed for the closet.
Buzz.
“Darn it Richard, I’m coming.”
The letter hole flapped. Alfred turned to inspect the sound he heard. A large black envelope floated to the floor.
“Oh,” Alfred noted. It wasn’t Richard. It was the postman. Checking his watch, he noticed the time. 13:24. A bit late for the postman. He then remembered he had already collected todays post. He walked over to the front door, abandoning his plan to get his coat. Touching the locked door he felt a small sharp bolt of static electricity surge through his hand. The sort you feel when you rub a balloon on your face. He gently massaged his palm.
Buzz.
The bell alarmed Alfred. He hadn’t expected it to go again. As he opened the door a sweep of the cold rain from outside hit his face, a small scattering onto his glasses. It slightly blurred his vision, if only for a split second. The door gave way. Something pushed him backwards, the weight of the door forcing him back. He couldn’t see, the rain blurred the identity of the person forcing his way into Alfred’s house. As his head hit the floor his eyes blackened over. He was out.
“Alfred.”
Alfred heard something. He still could not see, although the black was now beginning to fade. The sound was definitely Richard. He must’ve arrived at last to pick him up.
“Alfred.....hes waking I think.”
He then felt the pain. In his hand. He yelped in agony, before rolling onto his side and vomiting. The taste in his mouth was horrible.
“Alfred, are you ok? You’ve had a......” SCREECH. A deafening noise hit Alfred’s ears, piercing them.
Then some sort of sounds. He couldn’t work it out. It sounded like some sort of words. He caught a couple. The last two. ‘Cannot see.’ He definitely couldn’t see. But that was not Richard noise. The sound again pierced through Alfreds body. SCREECH.
He then heard it all. As clear as day.
Richard Williams, Saturday 9th 13:37
The windscreen wipers had seen better days. As the rain hammered on Richard’s windscreen, he tried the variety of different speeds to try and clear his vision, but the faster ones made a horrendous screeching sound on the glass, the slower ones left huge amounts of water right were his eye line was. As a result, Richard was driving quite slowly. He was running late, he was supposed to be at Alfred’s for 13:30.
He hit some traffic about four blocks from the house.
“Bollocks.....Come on!!!......Get your foot down”
The traffic slowly pulled away from the junction and Richard continued. The radio was particularly poor today. He had heard nothing but pop music and rap since he had left his house some 4 minutes before. As another song that he didn’t approve of began to play on his radio, he glanced down to change the frequency.
As he pressed one of the buttons, the radio switched off.
Richard grumbled to himself. He must have pressed the wrong button. He was having to concentrate on the road more than usual, but this excuse didn’t help his miserable mood. He had fallen out with his wife as he left his house this morning over the usual nonsensical things his wife found grating which did not bother him in the slightest.
But it did always leave him feeling quite fowl for a few hours afterwards. But the bowling that lay ahead cheered him slightly. He glanced down at his radio again. He saw the on button and pressed it.
Nothing happened.
“Don’t tell me I’ve broke it”. He hit the button twice more. Twice again, the music did not start up. He looked down a final time.
Blackness hit him. It felt like only for a second. As he opened his eyes, it was clear that it had been much longer that Richard Williams had been unaware of his surroundings.
Written by Adam Harris
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