This is technically the third thing I wrote, but the other piece needs some fine tuning. This is just another short story I wrote, this will probably go into whatever weird short story collection I'm making. While I don't think any of these are great, i like that I'm laying ground work for bigger stories in the future;
Cliff grunted as he climbed up the rickety ladder, up into the attic. He winced with each step, his knees were stiff. He groaned as he could already feel the immense stuffiness and heat from the attic. Time had taken his toll on him, now in his late forties, Cliff was a tired man. He was tired of his job, his car, his house, but most of all he was tired of his wife Olivia. Sure in the first years of marriage it was wonderful, the future looked bright. As time went on, however, the polish on the world had begun to fade. Now Cliff found himself an aging has been, and every time he looked at Olivia he was reminded of how mundane his life had become.
He poked his head up into the attic, the only light coming from outside, the sunbeams shining through shutters. Cliff was not a church goer, so Olivia had decided he could clean the attic Sunday morning. Even though he argued he'd never been in the attic, she insisted, her sinus were much too sensitive to be in a dusty attic. Neither of them had ever been up there for very long, they didn't even use it for storage, but there were a lot of boxes from previous tenants. So it was Cliff's duty to sort junk from collectibles. Cliff walked over to a large box labeled "shirts." As he reached to open the box he spotted something behind the boxes, in the corner. Cliff felt a knot in his stomach, as he stared at what appeared to be a shriveled corpse, curled up in a ball. He walked closer, surely this was just a long forgotten Halloween decoration, he thought.
Cliff touched the shoulder of the body, it was dry, almost a paper texture. He looked at the face, it was very thin, and the nose appeared to have fallen off. He stared at body for several minutes, when, without warning the body stared back. Cliff gasped, so loud it caught himself off guard, he fell to the ground. The corpse looked at him and in a raspy voice said, "hello." Cliff was at a loss for words, this thing, this dead body, was talking to him. "It has been so long since I've had the pleasure to converse, might you stay and talk with me?" Cliff did not have many friends, and he seldom was able to talk to someone other than his wife, he was very lonely. He pondered the situation and gave a very calm, "sure."
He sat down next to the body, they sat in silence for the next few minutes, the corpse broke the silence. "My name is Roger, by the way," only his mouth moved as the skin around it cracked and flacked with every word he said. Before Cliff could respond Roger said with a grin, "You must be Clifford." He was shocked at the notion of an apparently immobile corpse would know his name. Cliff replied, "Yes...but everyone calls me Cliff, might I ask how you know this?" Roger looked around before answering, "Well as you can see I'm a bit immobile," he shook slightly to prove his point, his limbs barely moved. "But I do hear alot, and I know all about you and...Olivia?" Cliff nodded, he knew he should have been more off put, but Roger seemed like a polite enough man.
"Well she sounds like a very pretty lady,"Roger said. Cliff shrugged, "Honestly that woman has been nothing but misery for the last twenty three years." Roger managed to make sounds that could be considered laughter, "That's women for ya, misery." Cliff grinned, he had finally found someone that understood him. Cliff sighed, "Can't live with em', can't live without, isn't that how the saying goes?" Roger looked at the floor, and slowly turned his gaze up toe Cliff, "Well know that's not entirely true." The corpse stared at Cliff, unblinking until Roger wheezily said, " Why don't you just get rid of her?"
Cliff looked at the body wide eyed, "I...I can't kill my wife...I..." Roger was quick to cut him off, "What, you love her?" Roger began to force more laughter out of his body, dust coming out with every exhale. "Listen Cliff, I was in the same place, you know what I did?" Roger got a more sinister look on his face, "It's real easy, just do what I did." Cliff became pale in the face, Roger continued, "Just put something in her meal, arsenic or something like that, it's not like there's ever any visitors, you won't be interrupted." Cliff stammered, "That's not possible, sure I don't love her like I used to, but she's my wife." Roger frowned, or a close approximation, and said, "well you obviously don't know what goes on here when you're gone."
The corpse rolled his eyes, "She has been seeing men for years now," he chuckled, "the things I've heard." Cliff felt his heart sink, the woman he'd given everything up for was cheating on him? "How can I believe you?" Roger looked at a vent, just past his feet, he signaled with his eyes for Cliff to look as well. Through the shutters of the vent Cliff could see their bedroom, with a perfect view of their queen sized mattress. "This isn't possible...If one of us is going to cheat, it should be me..." He could feel anger well up inside his chest. "Why stop there," Roger asked, "Like I said...teach her a lesson." Cliff looked at the body, "I can just end it, get the hell out of this rinky dink town, all I have to do is kill that bitch."
A million thoughts raced through his head. How would he do it, suffocation, posioning, drowning, what? He inventoried every sharp, blunt, or otherwise dangerous object in the house that could do the deed. As he got up he felt a surge of dizziness brought on, he didn't realize how tired he really was. He looked down at Roger to see if he would agree, to Cliff's surprise the once very animate corpse did not appear to be moving anymore. He bent down wiping the sweat from his brow, "Hello, Roger?" The body remained unmoving. Cliff felt very tired, the heat had gotten to him. He laid down next to Roger and put his arm on his shoulder, it was still tough and papery, as he looked at the shriveled man Cliff drifted off to sleep.
Olivia walked inside her house, she had just gotten back from Sunday morning service. "Cliff, I'm home," She said, looking in the living room for her husband. She made her way upstairs, calling his name once more. When Olivia reached the top of the stairs she discovered the ladder to the attic was still down. She softly laughed to herself, her husband probably fell asleep on the job again. "One of these days you are going to do some work around here," she said as she climbed up the ladder.
Olivia reached the top of the ladder, scanning the attic her eyes stopped on a figure lying on the floor. Several days after discovering her husband's body doctors would tell her his death was brought on by heat stroke. Olivia was also told that victims of heat stroke will sometimes hallucinate which could explain why her husband was hugging the Halloween decoration that looked like a dead body
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