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At a Loss of an Arsehole

[At a Loss of an Arsehole, 506 words, Genre: Realistic Fiction]

* Image courtesy of Dirk de Bruyn

It was coming, it was just around the corner. Bill could feel it, something bad was going to happen. He had been experiencing it for the past couple of hours. Ever since he had paused to reflect on his current circumstances, he had found that nothing was happening. Everything was pleasant. Nothing great or superb was happening, however, nothing bad was happening either. Bill had begun noticing what was happening. He wasn’t having a great time, but at the same time he wasn’t having an awful time either. His problems and worries seemed to dissolve into nothing and he was stuck without a worry in the world.

At first, as he sat on his bed contemplating his sudden circumstances, he felt grateful. He felt at ease. But then there was the nagging suspicion that slowly chipped away at his shoulder that caused a problem of uneasiness on him. He was expecting something horrible to happen, something terrible, something catastrophic. But nothing was happening… The minutes unfolded into hours and nothing was happening. There was no jerk trying to push ahead in the shopping cue in the local supermarket, there was no disgruntled neighbour bearing ill will against him for some unknown reason, there was not one jerk. Looking around, he found himself in a space of tranquility, completely free of hostility. It was sapping away at his motivation in which to better himself. It was sapping away at his will to prove another person wrong. He was free of any challenges and being free of the challenges he could not simply initiate some form of action against another.

He wanted some arsehole to do what an arsehole does best: make absurd insinuations, callously disregard other’s feelings, and/or metaphorically step on one’s toes. Bill was free of that and being free he felt the need to be caged. He felt that something was not quite right in the world, that being absent of an arsehole, he didn’t have the same vigour as he usually would that would get him moving one foot in front of the other.

He had a clean bill of health, he had shiny white teeth, nobody was causing him worry or concern, everyone that he loved was safe… And he felt terrible. He felt as if he was eating a bowl of hot chilli without any chilli. It just didn’t seem right, it was just…

But as with the changes in most people’s lives, he would grow used to it. He would grow used to the ease of existence that he faced. It would just take some getting used to, that’s all. Bill would have to find new ways of enjoying himself, new ways of motivating himself.

And as he drove home. Some arsehole cut him off without signalling. Bill beeped his horn and yelled out behind closed doors, “You farkin’ arsehole! Your mother should have had an abortion before she cursed the world with your sack of shit, sorry existence!”

Everything was back to normal, it just takes some time is all.

 

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