Meet Bob (Kind of)
I’ve had trouble finding the right featured image to go with my current story series “The Monster in My Building.” I suppose I could have tried looking for an ominous image of an apartment building (though honestly that didn’t occur to me until now.) But I wanted to use an image of Bob, the series’ titular monster. The trouble is, Bob’s look is rather unique. I settled on a copyright-free image of a bird-looking monster, though it doesn’t look exactly like Bob as I’ve described him and is only meant to convey the idea of Bob. At my real-life job,…
The Monster in My Building: Part 6
It was a half-day at work. I’m on my way home, and looking forward to binge-watching the back-catalogue of a youtuber I discovered late last night. On top of all that, I’m giddy from the fancy decaf coffee that was definitely not decaf I downed on the bus.
The Monster in My Building : Part 5
“Alright, alright,” Terry waved his hands, drawing everyone’s attention back to the matter at hand and away from me and my long-awaited muffin. “This is getting out of hand. I suggest we table these suggestions until another-“
The Monster in My Building : Part Four
I stagger out of the elevator, my heart still bouncing around my chest like a demented pogo stick from the miniature heart attack Bob so kindly bestowed on me moments earlier. All this could have been avoided if we just did the strata meeting over Zoom
The Monster in my Building: Part Three
Today is a Bad Day, because I have to leave my apartment for a second time after work. I’m an incurable homebody; it’s one of the side effects of living in a situation like this.
The Monster in My Building: Part 2
I sit at my desk, staring at the little clock in the left-hand corner of my computer screen. It reads 4:58. It’s quitting time, and I hear my coworkers joyfully gathering their keys in anticipation of a relaxing evening at home. I sigh, wishing it was possible to teleport myself onto my couch at home.
The Monster in My Building: Part 1
I’m about to head out to work, just putting my shoes on, when I hear the familiar creak of the elevator’s hydraulic system, and the clunk of doors opening on my floor. My apartment is right next to the elevator, and usually it’s just one of the other tenants. Still, I can’t help but tense a little. I hear footsteps shamble past my door. The scritch-clump scritch-clump of heavy, clawed feet, and then a guttural croak like the great-grandfather of all ravens. “Shut up, Bob,” I say. I hear a deep “awk,” and then nothing. No more footsteps. Bob heard…
Roots: Part Thirteen
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part Ten | Part Eleven | Part Twelve I squirmed on the floral lazboy as my great-aunt Marie handed me a cup of tea. I still didn’t understand why I was growing a tail at all, never mind how to sit down with one comfortably. The first part, at least, I hoped Marie could help me with. Marie settled down on the equally soft and floral chair across from me. Hers creaked when…
Roots: Part Twelve
I sat at the desk in my room. Even after spending a relatively short time in the room, I found the floral wallpaper no longer seemed excessive and cloying. Instead, it seemed abundant, thriving. I liked it. The rabbit liked it too, I think, though my new furry companion still seemed concerned about me. I wished I could tell it not to bother. The whole thing had been a dream, after all. And if my rabbit was a bit different in the morning, well, for all I knew I was still dreaming.
Roots: Part Eleven
“You can let the rabbit out of the hutch now,” my great-aunt Marie said. Her eyes were glowing and a long cougar-like tail descended from her skirt and curled around her ankles. I realized I must be dreaming. “Right,” I said. The fact that I was dreaming didn’t bother me. I’ve had a few lucid dreams before, but I’m not good at it. Somehow, even though I know I’m dreaming, I can never really make the dream do what I want it to. So I figured I would just go along with whatever bizarre scenario my brain had concocted.
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Natasha Ruhwald 