Sornson Ian Lit Device Story

BUZZ, BUZZ, BUZZ. The clock read 6:45 AM; Randy yawned loudly as he smacked the snooze button on his alarm clock. He dragged himself out of bed and sulked to the kitchen where he was greeted by his wife and kids. The kitchen was dainty and extremely outdated. As he sat down, he noticed that all the eggs and bacon his wife, Linda, had made were gone.

“I’m sorry Randy, the boys scarfed it all down like animals when I wasn’t looking!” she apologized.

“That’s alright I’ll just have a cup of coffee and a bagel,” Randy replied.

“Ok, but you better hurry, you don’t want to be late for work,” she added.

“Don’t worry about it, I haven’t been late in over a year!” he gloated.

* * *

“Randy, why are you an hour late!” his boss demanded.

“Well, uh, you see sir, I, is that a new tie sir?” Randy was at a loss for words, he couldn’t tell him where he was or why he was an hour late.

“Don’t play games with me Randy. No pay this week.”

“But sir!”

“No buts! Want to make it two weeks!?”

“No sir.”

“Very well. Get back to work,” he snared.

As he sulked out of the office his best friend and coworker, Todd, approached him.

“Damn Randy, you got grilled in there, what’d you do?” he asked.

Took away my weeks pays because I was an hour late,” Randy replied.

“Linda is gonna kill you. Well, spill the beans, why were you late?” he questioned.

Randy thought back to where he was; Johnny’s Arts and Crafts. Ever since he was 32 he dreamed of a painting. A painting he was destined to create. He saw every daub of blue each subliminal stroke of tangerine and the vivid green tones. This store had everything. Every color, brush and sable. The shelves there were packed; there must’ve been thousands of different colors and the brushes.

“Earth to Randy? Hello?” Todd joked.

“The painting,” Randy whispered.

Todd let out a deep sigh. “Again with the painting, just do it already! You’re going to drive yourself insane!”

“No! I’m saving it for retirement and my budget is tight as it is.”

“Whatever man,” Todd said before he walked back to his cubicle.

Randy worked at Air Scrubs an air purifier company where he sold purifiers over the phone. To Randy it was more like a prison. Everyone had an identical cubicle that were packed like sardines in the dull, grey, lifeless office space known as Air Scrubs. The more he thought about it the more Randy wanted to quit and paint but he couldn’t do that to his family. Then the idea came to him. He snatched up his belongings and drove home as fast as he could.

“Linda! Linda!” he yelled. “I’m going to do it!”

“Randy, what are you doing home? It’s 10:39!”

“I’m going to paint it! I’m taking a leave of absence to do it.”

“You quit your job!?” Linda freaked.

“No, I just took a leave of absence tomorrow I’ll email work that I had a liver malfunction,” Randy explained.

Linda took a deep breath and sat down, “I thought you were going to save it for later.”

“I’m sorry, it just couldn’t wait. I, I...” he trailed off.

She put her hand on his shoulder and whispers, “If this is what you want to do, then do it.”

Randy jumped up and down as excitedly expressed his thanks. He couldn’t sleep that night as he was mentally making a list of what he would need. The next morning, he set out for Johnny’s Arts and Craft and came back with his dandelion yellow, azure blue and crimson red paints as well as his camel toe brushes and he got to work. He set up a wide canvas in his garage and he didn’t come out except to get food. For a week and a half he worked tirelessly slapping on paint can after paint can. Alas, nothing worked.

“Why, why, why!” he shouted. It was his dream and he was failing. In frustration he snatched up a can of mauve paint and hurled it at the canvas it splattered everywhere and just as he was about to throw another he stopped and stared. It was perfect. He let out a yelp as he scrambled inside to show Linda.

“I’ve done it!” he exclaimed with tears of joy in his eyes. She followed him into the garage but what Randy saw when he came back devastated him.

“Oh. Honey. I’m so sorry.”

Randy fells to his knees and cried, but these were not tears of joy.

“I’m so sorry,” she says as she comforted him.

“It’s ruined!”

The canvas had fallen off its mount and the painting had been stained by the dirty and grimy garage floor. He sobbed all night long.