___ ___ ___ ____ __ _____ __ ____ __ / __\ /__ \ /__ \ / __// | / /__ \ / / / / |/ | / /_/ // \ \// \ \/ /_ / /||/ // \ \/ / / / /| /| | / __ // / // / / __// / | // / / / / / / |/ | | / / / //___/ //___/ / /__/ / / //___/ / /__/ / / | | /_/ /_/______/______/____/_/ /_/______/\_____/_/ TEXTFILES ---------------------------------------------------------------------- #105 : Sunday 21st September 2003 : http://addendumtextfiles.org ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Cutter, by Steak ¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯ Jane’s alarm went off and she jumped from her morning bed with the feeling and energy that only a beautiful teenage girl can have. She spent some time running the shower as she prepared the torrent of moisturisers and beauty products that she applied to her face every morning. After rubbing the seemingly endless collection of skin creams into her face she dressed herself, picked up her keys and mobile phone and opened the door into the inviting morning sun. It was a wonderful feeling one that made her almost sure that she was going to enjoy her work today more than ever. *** Greg woke up and looked around, the sun was shining in through the window and beating down on his carpet casting a warm bright glow on floor. Greg felt kind of weird today, it was a special kind of weird that happened only once in a while, about say once every week or so. The feeling was an odd one, one that filled his body with greater meaning, a sensation that made him feel he was worth something, made him feel he actually had a purpose in this world. Greg liked it very much when he got this feeling, he actually felt like he was going to have a half decent day for once. He flipped his legs over the bed and put his clothes on and made his way gingerly to in the way of the bathroom. *** As I woke up the first thing I saw was the clock. I couldn’t believe how early it was, eight thirty is early for someone who is unemployed and has about as many qualifications as a rabidly diseased rat. But irrespective of the time the fact still remained that I just couldn’t get back to sleep, I was awake and there was nothing I could do about it. I dismounted my bed and filled my brain full of images of mild roast coffee and beautiful mornings, which surprisingly this was one of, I took the brisk morning air right down deep into my lungs and exhaled as it filled my blood stream full of rich oxygen. Yes I thought, today is special. *** Jane walked out of her house and down the driveway, the morning was still beautiful and the air was still sweet and clean. She filled her head of images of her final destination, that being the local mother care centre where she would spend the day looking after children who had parents who were far too busy to take care of their kids themselves. Jane wondered why she enjoyed her mother care job so much, she thought that the reasons probably stemmed back to a point in her childhood when she had come to the realisation that her parents (as up-and- coming business account executives) didn’t have enough time to give her the love and attention she deeply craved. She felt that in some way this job was letting her reconcile the differences she had with the memory of her parents. She would have loved to reconcile with her real parents but there was little chance of that as about ten years ago they had mysteriously disappeared under suspicious circumstances and she had long since given up hope of ever finding them. *** Greg had that feeling again, the feeling that filled him with mood of purpose, but this time he was looking at the garden shovel. He decided that this feeling really wanted him to do some work in the garden with that shovel. He smiled as he remembered that there was a flowerbed in the front garden that really needed digging up and planting. But first he would need food, he made his way to the fridge where he grabbed the large chunk of meat and cut himself off a slice, he placed it between two bits of bread and shoved it in his mouth. He wasn’t sure what meat it was, but boy did it taste good. He was still munching down on the sandwich as he put his garden boots and jacket on, as an old man of about sixty he really enjoyed his gardening it was a little something to ease the pain of growing old a slight hobby if you will. He grabbed the shovel with enthusiasm and started towards the flowerbed. *** I had already made my wake-up-juice (Milk, three sugars and a teaspoon of the brown coffee - remember that if you ever want to make me coffee) and I was struggling with my deck chair, I was going to enjoy this morning if it was the last thing I did in the world. *** Jane was walking down her road, not many people where up and about at this time in the morning. In fact she could only see one person on the entire street and that was old Mr Greg Jones who lived a few houses down, he seemed to be ploughing his flowerbed with a shovel. She had only really talked to old Mr Jones a couple of times, once when she needed to borrow a cup of sugar and once when she had ran out of food and went to Mr Jones’s house where he had given her the best ham sandwich she had ever tasted, he had assured her that the meat was fresh. As she got closer to him she started feeling that weird feeling you get when you see someone you don’t know too well, she didn’t know whether to say a ‘good morning’ or to just ignore him when she passed. She kept looking at him while she made up her mind what she was going to do. Jane stepped on a twig or something and made a small noise that alerted Mr Jones to her presence. He looked up and made eye contact with her and she felt a little weird, she was very close to him now, she supposed she better say something. She was trying to work out what to say to him when she noticed a strange glint in his eye, and with a speed that seemed unnatural for an old man he jumped down from his flowerbed onto the road only a few feet in front of her. For a few seconds she wondered to herself why he had jumped down in front of her in this fashion, but she didn’t have time to let this thought sink into her mind for long because her brain was too busy being smashed against the bottom of her skull as Mr Jones bought the garden shovel straight down on top of Jane’s head, delivering a devastating blow that would surly result in some kind of permanent brain damage. *** Greg looked at his victim; she was squirming on the road where she lay in pool of blood that had spilled from her ears and nose when he had hit her with the shovel. His beautiful feeling was complete and he felt better now than he had done all morning - a genuine sense of accomplishment. He looked down at the bloody garden implement with disgust and threw it away. How dare that stupid bitch make his tool dirty with her messy blood, he would now have to wash the thing, this made him angry so he gave Jane a few more kicks to the head to extract his penultimate revenge. She seemed to react to the kicks in some way. Because of this Greg was sure that she wasn’t dead but just unconscious, it was quite likely that some small part of her brain was still registering the pain of the kicks. He knew that soon she would regain consciousness and wake up and unless he finished the job sooner or later she would most likely scream and eventually bring the fuzz down on him, which was a bad thing. He tied her up right there and then with garden twine and threw her almost lifeless body over his shoulder. He carried her across his garden to the shed where he kept his power tools and laid her down on the workbench. *** It was about this time that Jane’s eyes started to open and she took in her surroundings for what seemed to her like the first time this morning. She couldn’t understand why it was that she couldn’t move and why she had a splitting headache, had she been drinking? She really couldn’t remember if she had gone out or not, in fact when she thought about it she really couldn’t remember much, except that she missed her parents. *** Greg stood over his victim with a satisfied grin on his face, he had accomplished his mission and it was a success, all that was left to do was to put the finishing touches to his prize - storage. He walked over to the buzz saw and switched it on, and he noticed with glee the look of fear and confusion in his neighbour’s eyes as she comprehended the buzz saw. *** As I sat in my deck chair and sipped my beautiful revitalising coffee I heard my neighbour Mr Jones switch on his buzz saw. “Mr Jones always uses his buzz saw,” I thought as I heard the sound of him putting a good-sized log into the cutter. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Disclamer - This content of this issue of Addendum is copyrighted the respective author whose name or handle should appear at the top of this page. You may copy this textfile but please keep it in its original configuration. Please note that the views expressed in this piece do not necessarily reflect the views of addendum as a whole. Thankyou. ----------------------------------------------------------------------