Ficly

Black Hole Dream-Scape

The incessant chirping of his iphone woke Alton from a peaceful dream. If reality could only be so sweet. No, reality was a black hole dream-scape designed to crush his spirit. He didn’t even pretend to be awake at 3PM on a Friday. “Yeah, what?” he growled.

“May I speak to Alton Fisk?” a pleasant voice asked.

“No.”

“Why is that?” the voice persisted.

“Because he is lying on the kitchen floor right now.”

“Oh, mylanta. Is he hurt? Have you dialed 911?”

“Maybe he would if you’d get off the line.”

“Well, assuming Mr. Fisk is all right, can you tell him he has been offered the position at Lusideo Financial? He starts training first thing Monday – 9AM at our main office.”

“I’ll, uh, tell him.”

Alton ended the call, a puzzled look etched on his face. What the hell is Lusideo Financial? he thought. He didn’t remember interviewing for a position or even applying. Had he blacked out again?

Alton dialed his therapist. “I think it happened again,” Alton said. A shiver ran down his spine. “When can I see you?”

View this story's 2 comments.