BOB BOUGHT THE PAPERBACK BOOK
Bob had bought the paperback at an Anastasia Island spring book fair. He left it on his desk near the computer keyboard, where it would lay, yellowing and wasting for months.
Working alone at home was as TV advertisements had claimed. The job paid well, hours were long and started at any time day or night, when he was needed and end sometime in the distant or near future.
He had finished his third cup of coffee and chocolate cremes. Trudging through a group problem-solving session using three computer screens. A computer voice read chat messages from his friend Marissa explaining a problem painfully, walking on stilts, through a cornfield way. Going through each step as if lecturing a nursing home seniors on shooting marbles.
Bob opened the paperback book.
William was being held against his will and was being told by Jason that he was going to be killed.
Bob smiled and thought, “I would give a bacon-wrapped baked potato to have Marissa take your place friend.”
The man Jason said “ William, I am going to disembowel you, draw you between those four plow horses, quarter you, drag the parts through the pig pen then burn them until they are well done. Those swine will feast on you this evening”.
William had a look of disdain on his face, saying, “You think this is how I will end?”
Jason said, “Look around you, these men holding your arms, say you have no choice. Brace yourself; this cut from stem to stern may sting a bit.” He turned and drew a sword from the flaming fire. The blade glowed with a reddish-white heat. “Die William.”
William watched the blade coming down and yelled, “No this ends here.”
Jason fell on his back at Williams’s feet. The men were unable to grasp William’s arms. Their hands could no longer touch him. The blade fell to the ground.
Jason growled, “Get him.”
William was like a ghost. The men spread as he started walking away.
Bob grimaced and thought; what a farce.
On the book’s page in front of Bob, was Jason, leader of the group’s name’s, the first letter of his name a “J” turned its top up, away from the paper. Eyes and a small mouth appeared on the top right of the letter J, and spoke “Ok, Bob do you have a better solution to this problem? He is the hero of this story. What would be your ending for him?”
The letter W had two eyes and one mouth one on each downstroke of the W. The W peeled up and said, “Bob if you cannot fix this story, do not complain. Now shut up and lets us get on with our tale.
Bob grimaced and thought of talking letters on an old yellow page.
Those chocolate crèmes must be drugged.
The W said “Enough of this swine. All six eyes blinked.
There was a sound like a very large pig passing gas. Bob saw a bright flash of red light.
The men were holding Bob’s arms and legs and pulling them out of their sockets as Jason started the white-hot knife blade down toward Bob’s chest. A moment before the blade touched Bob’s chest. A whizzing arrow pierced Jason’s heart with a thud. The projectile went through the chest. There were feathers on the front of his chest and a large arrowhead projecting from his back. The knife fell onto Bob’s chest causing a sizzling sound. There was the stench of burnt skin.
The men dropped Bob’s body and ran.
William was standing on a large boulder above the field. He was holding a crossbow and arrows.
Bob grabbed his burning chest and asked, How did you get back so fast and shoot with such accuracy?
William smiled and said. You wrote, arranged, directed, and created me. The words you speak and write are you.