3 Minute Fiction #1 - Give Me Three Minutes and I'll Give You a Story

A Steemit Original -

The Walker -

Ryan James Robinson-

He was thinking about his wife again, daydreaming out the window. He was at his desk in his small office with the door closed and a pile of work in front of him. He was getting stir crazy.

He stood up and went to the window. He looked down at the people walking around and scratched his head. He went out of his office and told his secretary he'd be back in 15 minutes.

"Jeez Tony, that's the fourth time today."

He just shrugged and brushed past her.

Out on the street he looked around and chose a direction to walk. He initiated his purposeful stamp then went into his head.

"Gosh I've gotta get to those invoices," he said aloud to himself as he was walking. "As soon as I get back."

He thought smoothly in his stride, worked out a game plan to go about the pile on his desk, and was very clear on what he needed to do by the time he was back in front of his building. He looked up at its mammoth facade and hesitated to enter.

"One more time around the block's not going to hurt anyone," and he was back into his stamp.

When five o'clock came it was as if he was subconsciously snapped back into reality - no alarm had gone off, but the bell in his head was telling him it was quitting time, and when he looked at his watch, he confirmed his suspicion, as it read 5:03.

"What was I thinking about? Oh yes that lovely trip to Niagara with Jan and Jessica, what a lovely time that will be, we'll spend the whole week together."

Jan was his wife and Jessica was his daughter. The two of them had been in his thoughts all afternoon.

He looked down at his desk and the pile rising two feet from the surface of his desk hadn't been depleted by one inch, "Oh well, I'll get to that tomorrow."

He enjoyed his walk home and thought of nothing but his two girls, the two loves of his life.

When he got home he kissed his wife hello and she asked him how his day had gone.

His mind went to the pile, the pile on his desk that would no doubt be half a foot taller by the time he went to work in the morning. He started to worry.

"I'm going to go for a walk."

"What the hell Tony? I thought we talked about this. All you ever do is take walks. Don't you want to spend anytime with me?"

"Of course I do. I just need to work a few more things out. I think clearly when I walk. This is the last night I promise."

"This is getting old Tony. Walk walk walk."

"I think clearly when I walk."

"You said that."

"Yes."

"I don't even know if I'll be here when you get back. When was the last time you even spent 15 minutes with your daughter?"

He thought for a moment, but just shrugged and brushed past her.

Into his trod, stamp, stamp, his mind went to his daughter. His wife was right, he needed to spend more time with her. And his wife. He'd take her on a fancy date. Tonight. Visit with his daughter and then go on a date. Perfect.

The thoughts brought him joy. He was so deep in his thoughts he hadn't realized he'd looped all the way around the block and was now back in front of his house. His eyes went to his daughter's window on the left side of the house. Then down to the living room, where his wife was no doubt sitting, just beyond the glass.

"One more time around the block's not going to hurt anyone," and stamp, stamp, stamp.

Dusk was falling on him now and he really needed to get back. He turned.

"Wow, I didn't realize how far I had walked."

The moon had firmly risen by the time he saw the church across from his street.

When he got to it he was amazed to discover he was at a much similar church way out at the very edge of an adjacent neighborhood.

"How'd I get way out here?" He scratched his head.

Head down. Stamp, stamp. Hours. Stamp, stamp. Finally he came into site of a row of houses and buildings that signaled the onset of his neighborhood.

But when he got closer, he realized it was another neighborhood way out of the city in the suburbs.

"This can't be right? How did I end up way out here?" he scratched his head.

Head down. stamp, stamp.

He walked all night.

The sun came up just in time to paint the state line in a rosy glow.

He stopped for a moment and scratched his head, "This does't make any sense at all. What the hell am i going to do?"

He looked around. No matter how far he walked, he only ended up further from his destination. He couldn't think of what to do.

He put his head down. Stamp, stamp, "I think clearly when I walk."