joan marie By joan marie, 29th Mar 2011 | Follow this author | RSS Feed
Posted in Wikinut>Writing>Short Stories

Does the computer have control? The urge to write away this memory is greater than ever.


It drenches me. Oozing through my pores drowning me in memories of that time, that place. Those long buried feelings. I don't remember lying down. The longing, the compulsion to write—to cleanse myself—of the recollections that broke my heart so long ago, is much stronger today.

Yesterday passed in a blur. I don't even remember eating. My hands are stiff, back aches, and I have trouble focusing. But it's entrenched within me, there's no turning back.
Throbbing fingers wrapped around a cup of coffee, a cigarette completes my morning routine. I'm anxious to return, to spew out the words assembled while I slept. The aches and pains tell me the pills merely kept my eyes closed while my mind worked feverishly in preparation of today's session...with the machine.

There's no attempt to deny the words and sentences already formed. I go straight from the kitchen to it. I wait, restlessly listening, while it whirs and ticks. The icons appear. The machine's ready.

I scan the words written the day before, unable to recall what I typed or where I now need to begin. It floods back. I merge with my instrument, giving myself over to the stream of thoughts flooding through my hands to the keyboard.


Pat has no choice but to open the door. She grabs Amber's collar. The man pounds loudly demanding entry. She scrambles to look composed while her mind explodes with confusion.

Where did Ken go? Who is this man? She takes a deep breath, opening the door.

"Hello, can I help you?"

"Hello, I'm Sergeant Fox. I am looking for this man. His name's Tony Vasquez." Out of a brief case, he pulls a penciled sketch. It's Ken.

Pat doesn't know what's happening. Her first instinct is to lie.

"I've n-never seen him b-before." She stutters, praying he won't notice the two plates on the coffee table behind her and the men's shoes underneath. How do I explain the half-eaten breakfasts and the shoes?

Her thoughts are interrupted when the man asks,

"May I come in?"

Unable to think of a reason to say no, Pat steps aside. The man enters and takes a seat on the couch where Ken sat a mere two minutes before.

"We have intelligence he lives here. He's wanted in connection with the robbery of a man at the dog track last week." The sergeant clears a spot on the coffee table and lays the paper down in front of Pat. Amber lies at attention by her feet.

It's Ken, but this man is calling him by another name. What's going on? Sitting on her hands, she desperately wracks her mind to recall last week. Ken goes to the track all the time. Who is Tony? Oh my God, oh my God. Can he see me shaking? Can he hear the lies in my voice?

"Well, are you sure you don't know him? Take another look." The officer looks calmly around the apartment. "I guess I've interrupted your breakfast. Is there someone else here or are you alone?"

"I was eating breakfast with a friend, but he had to go to work." Please, don't let him notice the shoes. Stupid, of course he saw them. He knows I'm lying. Pat can only stare at the paper in front of her, terrified to look the man in his eyes. After what seems like an hour, she picks up the paper and hands it back to Sergeant Fox. Oh my God, my hands are shaking. Please, God, Just make him leave.

"Ok, I'm gonna leave my card with you. If you remember anything or if something comes up and you want to talk to me about it, call me." Sergeant Fox closes his brief case, leaving the sketch on the coffee table, and stands. Once more he glances around the room, looking down at the table. He walks to the door and without another word or look at her, and leaves.


Prying my fingers from the keyboard's a physical sensation, like they've been glued to the keys. My concept of time's nonexistent. I feel uncomfortably numb.

Glancing down at the computer's clock, I realize I've been working for five hours. I'm dumbfounded. But I've only a thousand some odd words. What's been going on the rest of the time. Have I just been sitting and staring at the screen? I should've finished. I feared what tomorrow will bring.

My mouth dry, I groan as I rise from my secretary's chair. Moving around is difficult. My back feels as though a knife's been raked down it. My knuckles are swollen. My mind's poisoned by the memories I've brought out from behind the door.

I am close to the end, but I'm unable to go on. In my bedroom, I think about taking my pills early. Twelve hours of sleep sounds great right now...

Writer-The Final Day


Computer, Laptop, Love Experience, Memories, Saving Work, Screen, Writer, Writing

Meet the author

author avatar joan marie
I have been writing since 2004. I enjoy several different genres and write about the disenfranchised, homeless, mentally ill. I also love to write about my two roommates. They are Dillard & Dabney McFurperson. I enjoy writing humorous poetry and shor...(more)

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author avatar Rathnashikamani
30th Mar 2011 (#)


Wonderful story.

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author avatar Retired
30th Mar 2011 (#)

Very well written indeed! Thanks!

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author avatar Jerry Walch
30th Mar 2011 (#)

Nicely told. Held my interest from start to finish.

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author avatar joan marie
30th Mar 2011 (#)

I need to link this to Writer The First Day

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author avatar Retired
30th Mar 2011 (#)

Good write, dear J.

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author avatar Dafeenah
30th Mar 2011 (#)

Great story. I loved how you entertwined the story with the actual writing of the story. Thanks for sharing this.

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author avatar foxpete88
31st Mar 2011 (#)

very well written, thanks.-

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author avatar Songbird B
31st Mar 2011 (#)

Great story, cleverly interwoven....great share Joan Marie...

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author avatar Delicia Powers
31st Mar 2011 (#)

I was eager to read each word, written to hold us within the grip of the story and the story-teller, artfully done, thank you!

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author avatar Kathy
1st Apr 2011 (#)

This is a real page turner!!!!! I find myself in anxiety wanting to know MORE...Excellent write!!!!!!

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