Neatness
Everything was in the right place; the shoes, books, furniture, utensils, remote control…. His house always smelled of fresh air, although it was hundreds of miles away from the ocean.
“Your house smells like a beach-house!” his friends told him.
He knew his house was far from being called a beach-house. It had no fishing harpoons, fishing nets, scuba diving suits or shells. In fact, he hated the ocean.
Three years back, his perfectionism had landed him a job in an environmental movement company. A research lab was set for him close to the beach.
One Saturday morning, he saw a turtle floating close to him. It was still, its body dancing only to the motion of waves. BP oil spills and chemical wastes suddenly haunted his mind. He now saw oil rigs and floating marine animals all around him. Quickly he jumped out of the ocean as though he had spotted a shark’s dorsal fin, a dozen feet away.
“I’ll never stay around imperfection!” he swore to himself.
Neatness then became his pilgrimage. He took one last bottle of vodka to erase the memories about the ocean, and moved to live in a place not close to any water bodies.
Sometimes he eats fish and lobsters with difficulty. An imagination of a contaminated ocean close to him scares him stiff to hold his knife and fork.
Current Contest Name: Take The Dagger From My Heart, Please - 2
Previous Contest Name: SHORT STORY
Date the Previous Contest was Finalized: 9/27/2016
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
