by syaffolee

I’ve been busy and exasperated. If there was a term for my organizational skills, I’m a minimalist neat freak. I can’t stand a mess. But I don’t explode and let everyone around me know my quirky pet peeves. Instead, I bottle it up–which can’t be a good thing for my blood pressure. So I only fume silently when people scatter things about and do haphazard planning (if it can even be called that) on paper towels and pieces of plastic in the name of scatterbrained brilliance.

Peculiar Type #3 – Seeing Things

There was a sign taped on the table.

No studying allowed on weekends.

With a satisfying thunk, Marty dropped his history textbook on the table covering up the words “on weekends”. There was a perverse pleasure in looking like he was breaking the rules–even if he really wasn’t. The local bookstore frowned upon students studying in the adjoining cafe. The rationale was that the students would take up space and drive away real customers, as if the students didn’t already go there to buy sandwiches and drinks.

He took out another textbook from his battered green bag and opened it up to pages 266 and 267 where he hid the latest copy of Batman. Studying in a no studying zone but actually reading comic books–what sneakiness! He chuckled to himself and turned a page, immediately drowning himself in ink, color, and Gotham City.

But as Batman was about to nab his latest victim, Marty became aware of something outside of the comic world making the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. He raised his eyes a fraction above his textbook shield and locked gazes with an old man sitting at another table across from him. Watery and faded eyes glinted from the overhead lights. The old man smiled, open-mouthed, revealing red gums and a solitary tired tooth.

Looking back down, he no longer saw Batman. With a trembling hand, he flipped the comic closed and looked at the textbook. The old man’s face stared back at him from an early twentieth century lithograph.

A link:
The Little One. Well, when I was three years old, I developed a phobia for The Incredible Hulk. I still think angry green men are scary.