Monday, December 13, 2010

The Unexpected

Something was wrong. Though Neuman didn't surrender his grin he seemed to be caught off guard a minute. Immediately he catches himself with practice in interpersonality not giving up a hint of displeasure of the odd greeting he'd received from a possible colleague. "No, no one's hurt. I'm feeling rather pleased myself," this is your one chance Neuman, establish connection. "Dr. Gallagher is it? I was just interested, your doctorate, what is it in? I am a graduate from a rather high establishment myself and I am very curious what a man of your extremely qualified merit could be doing out here in the middle of nowhere."

Neuman was chilled, but far from cold. This very interaction was already filling his throat with ice. He could not shake the paranoia that this doctor was not what he appeared to be, neither his savior nor his compatriot. Each word felt the old business warmth that took years of training, filled with a charisma that could fool an emperor, but his suspicions made him chilled. The very air seemed to slow around him as if it were too cold to retreat to its hearth in the air ducts. Too late to for the air to escape the coming coldness of a new breeze. His Jaguar must be shivering, the keys still sitting on the hood from this morning. Out of season. Out of place. The Jaguar is falling out of repair.

Friday, September 24, 2010

Dilapidation

Hmm I don't see what it is about this place. The Jaguar waits prowling for action, but the weather beats down upon it with harshness and bird turds. Mr. Neuman Jr. knows there is something off. He can't get his mind off of it. People around here are just so "exorbitant" is all he can think of. Who ever heard of such nonsense and oddity. His neighbor has a pesky guest which until recently did Neuman realize that the nasal and screechy voice came from that of a crow. Parrots talk, even falcons are smart, but a talking crow? Maybe the change of climate is affecting him. Even more astonishing is the small victories these people get in this situation. A stripper that takes pride in getting money for 'exploiting' her clients. How odd to think of yourself a good person for doing something so desperate, so... despicable. Neuman ponders staring out onto the landscape. The sudden exclamation that "THE WORLD IS ROUND" echoes in the streets. Neuman slaps his face. He could be at home inheriting the precious position of the company and really be contributing. He could be actually doing something productive. The Jaguar waits seemingly falling apart in the parking lot the keys still on the hood.
No the company can wait. This is important. It must be. This is the key to success, understanding what these people live like, knowing what to look for... but it's just so difficult to adapt to such a simple world. Neuman sighs and hits the door glancing at the contacts of some of the hotel's participants. A Doctor! There's the solution. Surely a Dr. would be a refreshing bit of high life. Perhaps this man is doing the same as he! Perhaps this Dr. is merely staying to heroically cure the sick around this town. Just a little break from living with so many people beneath him. Neuman straightens out fixes his composure and strides down the hall remaining conscious of his appearance and being friendly to those he passed by. Knocking on the door of Dr. A. Gallagher opening straight to the point: "Good evening, my name is Mr. Paul Neuman, might I ask what your doctorate is in?"

Thursday, September 2, 2010

Social Anxiety

Singed air dwells in the nostrils of Mr. Neuman, making it inaccurate to propose that his awakening depended on his nostrils being filled with the smell, but somehow it was easier to blame that smell on a convenient alarm clock. It seemed well enough to get up seeming a habit that work must be done. Mr. Neuman the aspiring son of his grand company could not help, but remain a busy bee even if the work included lying awake in an unforgiving world trying to discern one mud stain from another on the ceiling and pondering if it was really mud and how it got there. How to start a day without an end?
Peering out the window gave little comfort, the sun was up clearly marked by the brightness, but the eerie absence of the sun quashed that little comfort. This light glinted off the untouched Jaguar with the keys on the hood. Maybe it was when it rained, maybe no one wanted to claim it. Give it some time, someone surely must want a car like that. The scene was not unaccompanied, many more cars and oddities littered the parking lot now. It seems guests have come to this rickety old building. Maybe that's what the next step is, time to associate with the neighbors.

Thursday, August 19, 2010

Brave New World

Windows, rolled down, sunglasses, taken off, hair, neatly blowing behind him, driving gloves, tightly fit. Neuman abandoned his chauffer a ways back in his old life. Suitcase in hand and accessories in place Neuman pursues his father's wishes to find his roots, to look for a way to be in touch with the poorest of consumers and more importantly to find out what life would lead should he fail in new reign. Neuman glances at the surroundings, a Target, a sports center, not poor enough, it needs to look bad, it's supposed to feel awful. He drives onward to his new life.

The Jaguar comes to a trot. The windows are bombarded by smells of restaurants that usually would only come from exotic trips, and yet made in very... what's the word, eccentric fashion. Perfect. Neuman passes a motel with seemingly 2 cars to an occupied room. At least they look like cars. It's nice but something about it makes it seem like a very temporary residence.

Neuman sets his sights on the seemingly tallest building, a towering monstrosity amongst most the rabble, yet it's architecture (due to years of training) is noticeably ancient like a Stonehenge amongst specs of sin. Something about it seems unavoidably drawing. The Jaguar pulls into the parking lot. The stick locks into place as the Jaguar's wheels disengage and the wheels lock. The Jaguar runs silent. Neuman turns the key and takes a deep breath. This is my new home. For now, just treat this as a little project. Neuman takes the keys and unlocks the car taking his suitcase, a large book, a wallet and the suit on him. He kisses his necklace and tucks it back in tightening his cuff links promptly tossing his keys behind him on the windshield with the door unlocked.

It's going to be fine. It won't be long until he controls his father's assets. Despite an incredible arrogance permeating from him he leans on the table of the front desk paying the clerk up front asking for a simple window room. Neuman's eyes a lushful greenish blue he only runs his fingers through his hair to take in the steps he's taking to fulfill his father's wishes. The locks of the fine black hair seems to place itself in a jet smooth flatness. He feels the absence of 'business gel' sighing heavily. The clerk comes back with a key and Neuman takes the key graciously. He eyes the elevator and he doesn't need take out his fake stylish reading glasses to see that it makes for a perfect time to maintain his cardio by taking the stairs.

The teeth on the key reveal it's wear, but it's after a few jiggles the door forces open. So this is home. He locks the door and unpacks his new life. It won't be long now. Better to get settled in. Neuman watches his Jaguar from the window and can't help but wonder, what's its final destination is and when will it arrive there.