Daily Creative Writing Practice - He Looked Up [Short Story]
My daily practice of bringing depth to simple sentences...
He Looked Up
He'd stayed in the toilet longer than what he'd intended, as each time he went to move, his body would go into a semi paralysis. The firing synapses of his brain could do nothing in commanding his feet to move, the only outward response he had was from the line of sweat which had now formed along his forehead. He was scared though as he knew something bad was up. He knew that the innate part of him, the part that he couldn't really explain but felt like an evolved gut feeling. An early warning system, right now was doing the most in trying to preserve his life. And he knew it must be a real life altering threat happening beyond the safety of the toilet door. As his body had never gone into a paralysis before, never had it reacted so violently in its self defense mechanism.
Usually he'd be made aware of a potentially bad situation by the raising of the hairs on his neck and arms. Or his stomach would tense and with each tense send electric like impulses coursing through his body. But never before had his body reacted like this.
He took deep breaths, swallowing down scents of urine and ever lingering gases, a consequence of a digestive system clogged by fast food. Each breath of the nauseating air brought him a step closer to bodily control, a step closer to finding out the reason for his bodies sudden noncooperation.
He was scared though, feeling a type of fear he hadn't felt for years. The only time he'd come close to this feeling like this is when he had walked into his house one late evening and found two men with black masks and long shot guns waiting in darkness for him. Similar to this time his body had tried to prewarn him of the situation waiting for him at home. As his hands had seized up on him when trying to exit his car.
Divine intervention through the help of patrolling police was the only way he managed to get through that situation. His pondering mind could only imagine the horrors that laid in wait for him beyond the toilet door. As if in response his body shock with a cold tremble. Yet he knew he couldn't remain in the confines of the toilet forever, and as he peered at the door he was no longer getting a sense of danger, the inner part of him that he was sure somewhere connected to a higher being or higher existence let him know that for now the path was all clear.
With careful steps he made his way quietly to the toilet door, his Jordan's making no sound on the white of the tiled floor. He reached his hands towards the handle of the door, slowly gripping the handle into a tensed fist. With one last deep breath he opened the door and opened into the world of Saturday morning Asda shopping.
He gazed and surveyed around intently as he was unwilling to believe what he was seeing, his eyes narrowed in disbelief while his mouth opened into a "What the F!" type expression. As it was 11 am on a Saturday, and not a single soul could he find in the supermarket. Not a customer, not a child, not even a security guard who was known for following customers around. What made the situation even worse was that it was clear that something was up. Trolleys full with food were in aisles and at checkout points. Baskets brimming with fruits, milk and the snuck in pages of a princess magazine was common all over the store. But there was no people.
He stood around in silent shock, his 5ft 10 frame in total stillness similar to the human statues you'd find a long London's South Bank. The silence of the place was deafening, playing with his mind, as the current scene simply made no sense. How was ASDA empty on a Saturday morning, the most popular day of the week.
For a long time he'd known that the sixth sense he'd been gifted with was to always be listened to, as it was always proved right. Always. So as a familiar feeling of danger awoke his senses, his self preservation system kicked into gear and without word he walked quickly towards the exit, his pace increasing greatly as he got the feeling of eyes watching him, of eyes curious, observing his movements and determining the best course of action.
He broke into a full sprint racing past the automatic doors of the front entrance. Racing towards the outside world, racing towards a world that he hoped would be the same as what it was just 5 minutes ago.
Abruptly he stopped running when he reached outside. The feelings of being watched, of being chased were now no longer important, because as he looked up into the sky he realised instantly that things would never be the same again.
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