Stanly: A Narrative Fiction

In a dull and dusty gray cubical, a lonely man rubs his exhausted eyes. He looks around at his dimly lit name plate that staunchly read “Stanly”. The name seemed so dull to him, and he blamed his mother for the daily reminder of his bleak life. The computer seemed to be the only substance of light in the dark little box he worked. Tired and bone weary Stanly began shutting his computer down packing his briefcase with the seemingly useless papers on his desk. He didn’t even have to think about anything during his day now, just a mindless routine made possible by muscle memory. The amount of overtime that was required was ungodly. He began to think that his boss didn’t even see him as a human being anymore, just a machine to dump work on.
The …show more content…
He began to believe that this was a nightmare that he could just wake up from. Feeling the pain in his neck and forehead reminded him that this unpleasant idea could be false hope conjured from his imagination. The nightmare became his reality. All he wanted to do was to run away, feeling as if that would make everything go back to normal. He closed his eyes forcefully hoping the dead girl would disappear, but she never did. A moth attracted to the cars headlights buzzes by Stanly’s ear stunning him into action. Leaping into his car Stanly quickly makes his way back to the safety and sanity of his …show more content…
The 6th commandment stating “Thou shalt not kill” seemed to bore a hole right through Stanly’s being. He took in a deep breath and began to step away from his vehicle when a gust of wind burst around everyone standing on the other side of the street. Stanly watched as a little girl squealed and began reaching for her hair bow that snapped loose from a braid only to flip flop its way into the street. Stanly’s heart jumped into his throat as his eyes met the girl and she smiled, he remembered the shape of that mouth being split in two, those hands that were now reaching for a bow, bent and misshapen. The child’s eyes met his and he knew those eyes, knew the loss that they would soon hold as they did only nights before and his body couldn’t help but to convulse and then spring into action. Tears streaking his face Stanly ran as fast as his deprived body could take him, horns honking, tires peeling he dove into oncoming traffic and shoved in the direction of the child. With smell of burnt rubber and the image of a small little girl's eyes Stanly felt his body make impact with another solid force which seemed to drag him down and away from himself. A small peel of laughter in the distance was the only coherent noise Stanly