Her fingers click-clack-clopped away at the keyboard, almost as if they were digging for treasure underneath the keys. Her eyes scanned the monitor, waiting for something to pop out at her like a jack-in-the-box toy. Her fingers typed and her eyes searched and she continued, like every night, for hours, waiting for results to blossom.
The sting of the slap waded in and out like a storm siren, increasing and decreasing in intensity every second. Mason looked at Tracy with disbelief as she returned the stare with careless anger. He searched her eyes for any hope of reconciliation, but when he turned up nothing, he clenched his jaw and left.
Eve scrunched her toes into the thick beige rope of the shag carpet beneath her. She laid there, her bosom to the floor, watching the time pass in the form of golden stripes spilling through the blinds onto the stained rug before her. Barely breathing, she considered her life, everything that was just so ordinary.
Harry sat in his armchair, sipping at water Penny gave him, never looking away from the window. He would fall asleep there, half-eaten grilled cheese resting abandoned on his lap. Sometimes, Penny would stand outside the window while he slept. She would stand there and pretend. Pretend that she was who he was waiting for.
She burst into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. She wanted to scream, but she didn’t. Burning tears poured down her face as she sliced her nails over her face violently. Her jaw locked in a silent scream and she beat and kicked at the wall. She went to the sink and splashed her face with water.
As Greg considered the possibilities and details that would be needed for the team’s latest assignment, a light tapping shook the door, which was unnervingly loose on its hinges. “Come in,” he said over his shoulder. The door scraped open twenty-five percent of the way, just enough for a small-framed woman to peek in.
When he looked at the screen of the phone, he realized his mother had hung up on him. With a huff, he threw the phone to the side. He clicked at the screen of his computer, going somewhere he couldn’t really see. With every frustrated click, the angry heat welled up further in his spine.
The wind blew locks of her copper-colored hair under her chin as she stared at the horizon. She would have simply looked pensive had it not been for the long dull tears wetting her face. Her feet stood planted on the wooden dock, informing the sea that she would never stop waiting for his return.
“RAAAAH!!” A man dressed in ripped clothes and a clown mask jumped out from behind a curtain and raised his chainsaw threateningly at his next victim. A little girl with blond pigtails stood there and stared at him with big bored eyes, clearly unimpressed. His “RAAAAH!!” died down pathetically as he stared back, suddenly disheartened.
Chad hugged himself near the bushes smoking a Marlboro as three children ran through his yard, screaming with laughter. Two children had thick coats and scarves on while the third, a nine- or ten –year-old boy, ran around in an old red sweater and jeans. Chad pitched the cigarette onto the ground before heading inside.