The stone glowed in Jon's hand, as strange steamy smoke poured out making him drop the stone. Two shapes flew in strange circles. Jon peered into it, and saw the silhouette of some kind of predator... a fox? It was chasing a squirrel. They were moving in circles against each other... strange, why would a squirrel chase a fox?
The strange vision then simply flew away into the wind as whispy light.
"Well... I guess that was interesting," Jon thought. At least nothing weird happened
It was a normal day like any other.
Tim was a young man in his late twenties, with his whole life ordained by cautious planning and optimism. He was returning home after a particularly long day at the garage where he worked. He drove his car, a simple BMW. Sure it was a bit generic, but he knew it was always good to get the parts. Perhaps the bad thing about it though, was that he always repaired it rather then get a new one even if parts were harder to find. He just... didn't like change at all...
keeping the past, that was just how he was. He liked working on cars, and that fit in with his work and lifestyle with clockwork and gears that conformed to a specific pattern that was greater then the sum of its parts. Things were fairly perfect for him, even if his income wasn't as high as he would like. He had been at the garage for quite a few years now, and most knew him to be a competent engineer.
Tim pulled up to his parking space on a relatively quiet road of a small town. The sun was going down and the stars were starting to shine as the evening drifted into night. He worked rather long hours... Tim for a moment glanced up at them. Venus was starting to brighten, and that made him smile a bit. "Always nice to look at the constants in life," he thought to himself. Everything was regular, like.. clockwork. Though of course, that certainly changed when he brought his friend in to his house after he lost his job.
Oh yes.. Michael. He had been friends with him since first grade. Their lives took different directions, but they were almost like brothers. Even if it seemed like every day they were just more different.
Tim opened up the front door to his house and- There was the smell of beer. "Oh Jeez," he muttered. "Dude- come on," He grumbled. Honestly Mike was past his teens now. He should be over this! This wasn't a frat-boy house! He lamented that at least it wasn't 'quite' as bad as it used to be. Mike was getting better and.. what happened was difficult... he needed time. That's all. He hoped... he really hoped he would pull through sooner rather then later though. "Hey Mike, where are you?" He called out as he picked up a few of the stray bottles and put it in the trash with the clinking sound of glass.
A soft groan comes from the couch in the living room, where the beer bottles were thickest. At twenty three, Michael wasn't exactly a schoolboy any more, though the way he'd been acting recently didn't really give that impression. Since he had lost his job due to a few too many misunderstandings with the boss- and a toxic reference had poisoned his chances of finding new work, he'd sunk into a deep depression, isolating himself at Tim's place, drinking until he passed out "“ And playing video games as long as he was somewhat conscious.
It had at least improved recently. He'd been off the alcohol for a week and had actually started to apply for jobs again. He'd even managed to get himself a shave and haircut giving a modestly decent appearance, if a bit ragged with darkened eyes. Seeing that particular mop of frizzy black hair finally trimmed certainly helped. Things had seemed to be going really well recently... he wasn't taking the rejection letters well.
"Ugh T Tim?" Another groan, along with the crinkling of chip packets as Mike starts to rouse himself. "Mmph What what time is " he squints out through blurry eyes, before blinking. "Oh Dammit " feebly, he started to move, gathering a few of the bottles to himself as he tries to get to his feet. "S sorry, I'll I'll clean up now. Just just take a bit. You go for a walk or something."
Tim sighed. He didn't want to be all judgemental on him of course. He passed his hands over his short black hair. He honestly just wanted to unwind himself, not come home to.. all this. Michael would want him to take a walk and go.. away. To give him more time to be alone in all this. Tim wanted to help him.. but he just didn't know how. "It's okay Michael," he said as he took off his jacket. "We can... sort this out. Look, I got more adverts for a job for you. Did you send your CV to those recruitment drives?"
Michael felt a bit sore from the coach as he reached up for a non-existent alarm clock. "What time is it?" Some time in the evening. At least given that Tim was here. He was dressed in a vest and boxer-shorts. The smell of alcohol was on his breath as were empty cans of beer. How many did he have? He was sure he just wanted to have one but then he thought to have one more? Tim was already cleaning up the cans and.. yes he did feel ashamed. It was probably time to get up. But then again, Tim was doing all the work at the moment... Suddenly Tim flicked on the light making him groan. The questions Tim was asking was slowly processed. Did he sent his CV out? He was supposed to do quite a few chores.. did he actually do any of them though?
"S seriously, just I need a bit I'll clean up " he mumbles. He genuinely -did- mean it though perhaps that's why Tim didn't just kick him out. The only problem was how difficult it was to turn intention into action, especially when there were.. distractions. He was drawn to his vices like moth to a flame, whenever he felt walled. Change came.. and he didn't do anything about it. Maybe he even enjoyed it a bit.
When Tim mentions the adverts though, he winced again. He took a breath, then shook his head rubbing his temple for a while, as he tried to gather a suitable response for slacking off today. The day had started so promising. He was going to catch up on the housework, make dinner, do everything But then frustration... impotence... inability to even start at something let alone- how could he explain it? How could anyone understand it? His voice rough and quiet, he speaks again. " I had an interview today " he admitted sheepishly. "I went there.. yeah..."
Tim stopped his cleaning up for a moment as he turned to his friend. "Really Mike?" Amazement and relief cascaded down his features as he digested the news. Tim was quite a handsome man, broad shouldered... and perhaps Mike had been just 'a bit' overstayed his welcome... but if the result of all this was his friend getting a job... it was so worthwhile! "Oh Hell yeah! That's great news man." Though.. if after he had such great news, why did he start drinking again? "So tell me about it, what was the job on?" He had to ask him this carefully. He didn't want to crush him if this didn't pan out. "Just remember if it doesn't work, you got to keep trying. You will get a job, I promise."
Michael recalled the interview. It certainly went well. He couldn't quite recall all the details, but the job started off in a rather low position but.. the prospects were good afterwards. If he could stick to it. Tim had now finished putting away the last of the bottles. One thing he could see about his friend in all this, was the lack of judgement in his eyes. Honestly.. Tim was fantastic in helping him out. What would have happened without him? Tim was now putting on the kettle, and doing the washing up...the news lightning his mood.
Mike nodded slowly. "Yeah. I uh " he took a breath, slowly beginning to function lucidly again. " It's a support role. Cleaning, mainly. Though Crisis management is needed too and " he winced. "Pay's crap. Work is crap. But It's something. And it means I could get a better reference." He looked down deeply unsettled. The shadow of his past haunted him. He would do anything just to get away from it. He hated it that someone who wasn't even in his life any more could have such power over him still. " I just They asked about the last job, why I left. I don't Think it's affected my chances or anything but " he closes his eyes and sinks back. Things were Starting to come into focus again now.
Yes that's what happened. By the time he got home, he'd been shaking. Unemployment stress combined with guilt and a few unhealthy thinking patterns led to anxiety to climb, thus triggering his bad habit. (Or at least that was the excuse anyway.) He'd arrived home, planning to have one beer to celebrate, and calm his nerves. Of course, he had to buy them in bulk "“ cheaper that way, in the long run. And one beer became two, became three
Michael managed to get up to his feet, slick with some sweat on his vest as it cling onto his overweight belly. Tim was almost done cleaning in the space of just a few minutes things were looking a lot better already. "Look, just Stop. You've You've done enough. I need to pull my own weight instead of whining the whole time. You didn't ask for a useless slob as a house guest." Mike could at least contribute to the cleaning efforts, using the dustpan to sweep up some of the chip crumbs scattered around the place. But where was it? He shuffled a little feeling all the more.. useless.
Tim glanced back putting things in the trash bag. Maybe Mike needed some space. "Well... if you are sure Mike, I'll just go put my feet up then. Got to rest up for a bit." He wanted to relax and.. Mike was genuinely remorseful. So maybe a bit of thinking for him would work wonders. Tim went to his room to leave him be.
Mike nodded as he thought about what to do. He really hadn't done well for Tim. Tomorrow morning he would find out of he got the job. Admitting why he left his last job.. was always difficult. However, maybe it would be understood? He could only hope so. The dust on the floor wasn't too bad really. Tim did a good job keeping the place swept up- and that left a pang of guilt in him. It wasn't long though before he picked up a few flakes of it and put them away. There was now a nice full trash bag. Oh.. but Tim forgot about the tea he was making! That would be a nice thing to enjoy after cleaning up...
No no- just put the trash out first.. -after- that was done, he then went back to boiling the kettle.
But to his disappointment... there were no tea bags. They forgot to stock up on them?
Sighing, he started to head towards the trash can again, ready to dispose of the empty box. Though just as it's about to leave his hands, he spotted something. Right there, tucked into the side are two last bags, wedged under an opportune flap. A grin formed on Mike's face, as he rescued he final two life-savers, tossing them into the cups without a second thought. After all, when one was suddenly saved from a bad choice by fate, or luck It wasn't necessary to examine it too closely. And really, who cared if they looked a little different to their usual? A small change was never a bad thing
in some ways, change should be embraced... yes. This should be a good cup of tea...
Inside his room, Tim was far from sleeping really. He was spending time on his laptop. He liked to try and do a bit of freelance tinkering with it and even helped out people for a bit of extra money. Not that he was that technical but he was by his nature, a problem finder solver. That is- he couldn't fix a problem, but he usually knew where to find an answer. Still, right now, this wasn't really work. Just.. looking at some old nostalgic films and movies. Things certainly seemed a lot more simple back then.. less to worry about... his room was like a little shrine to old things he valued growing up. He tried to project himself as mature and responsible but the truth was.. sometimes, he liked to forget he had any responsibilities. He just.. didn't like change, and didn't get used to the idea that things had to change when he grew up. Then he heard the whistle of the kettle- oh the tea!
Tim walked back into the kitchen, dressed in evening-attire. In some ways it was no different from Mike's casual look. "Hey you made the tea!" he smiled. "Thanks I forgot about that." He glanced at the box. A fresh one? Good he would need that tomorrow morning. That was Mike's job to get more tea, he only stopped when he realised Mike probably didn't get anything.
The two sat down on the kitchen table. Still, something seemed.. off. It was like something was dancing in the smoke of the tea... something... ominous. Shapes of odd creatures... weird.
