Brute Press

Preview

This preview of Miles Strucker’s short story was originally posted on the Brute Press blog, the precursor to the web site.  Once the digital versions of A are online, the preview will be superfluous, but here it is anyway, for nostalgia’s sake.

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The Strangeness (of Things)

He was exceptionally good at hiding for an older man with urinary problems. If it wasn’t for the urinary problems (or more precisely, the great pressure) there’d be no reason why he couldn’t stay in his corner office, curled up under his desk, castled in by a chair and a fern, for at least another eight hours. After all, in eight hours the office would be cleared out, left to the darkness of hollow cubicles and gently humming wires. He could skip to the bathroom if he wanted.

The fact that his strawberry skin was beginning perspire, however, told him all too well that peeing would hardly relieve the great pressure (or the fear). If this had been the first time there wouldn’t be fear. There would be sweating, and the great pressure, and certainly a good deal of hiding, but no fear. Fear was a product of experience, of knowing what was going to happen next. In twenty minutes or so, his secretary would deliver the messages and say hello, just as she always had. As to the others who popped their heads in to say hello, and suck all the air out of the room, she behaved quite the opposite—as a draft might.

“Mr. Shannon?” She’d place the morning paper on his desk, noticing that the fern had been moved. That’s strange, she had seen him walk in earlier that morning. Then she would hear him breathing. “Mr. Shannon. Sir, you’re in here?” Formally exposed and not being able to control his chest bulging up and down or the sound of his belt pulling taut, he would have to acknowledge her. “Allyson, close the door….”