A Sick Day

By: Jeremy Ridnor

 

Roger Harper sits lethargically on a suede couch as he watches some crummy late night television show. Lately Roger has had some difficulties falling asleep. The reason being is he has the flu. Every time he was just about to doze off into dreamland, a sudden coughing spasm would wake him up.

 

Roger was an average suburban middle-aged man who was past his prime. He used to be a certified lifeguard with all the perks. He had the washboard abs, the bronze tan, the long golden hair, the babes, and the beach. Now Roger had a receding hairline, diabetes, a double chin, an overdue rent, and an addiction to reality TV shows. Roger was truly living the American dream. He was a docile man, who did not ask for much. He wanted to be able to look down and see not a slab of fat, but his little Mr. Rogers, he wanted the Dodgers to win the World Series, he wanted to win an Oscar, fly into outer space, write his memoirs, and occasional he wanted to see a Victory Secret commercial to come on in between his reality TV shows. Oh yeah, he wanted to find Jesus, but so far no luck, apparently Jesus was a pretty good hider.

 

Since Roger had the flu, his body temperature was spastic and fluctuated from cold to hot. At the moment, he was burning up, so he opened the windows. Meanwhile, outside of Roger’s house there lurked a dark figure. This dark figure closely inspected Roger’s house, and then came upon a treasure chest. He rushed over towards Roger’s trash bins. He then began to dig through his trash. It was almost as if he was trying to find something, like a lock of hair, or some toenail clippings. There were so many great treasures in his trash. For instance, a dirty old pair of socks, a worn out Oral B toothbrush with just a hint of saliva on it, and lots more. This preoccupied the dark figure for a while until he noticed a flashing blue light coming from an open window. The dark figure swiftly approached the window greeting the flashing blue light. He then effortless slipped through the window without catching Roger’s attention.

 

Roger’s eyes were glazed over, puffy, and blood shot. This was because Roger would ceaselessly rub his dry eyes day and night. Roger was transfixed into a daze. He was not quite asleep, but not quite awake. Roger’s scrotum sac itched furiously. The reason being was that Roger had a genital rash that was probably caused by him masturbating too much to internet porn. With that, Roger cupped his hands and then engaged in clawing at his chafing genitals as if no one was watching.

 

Although Roger was not alone, there was an unexpected visitor watching his every move. He hovered around in the darkness just observing Roger and his habits. This dark figure contemplated approaching the man sitting on the suede couch, but he decided that he would wait and watch for a little while longer.

 

Roger let out a loud relieving moan and then removed his hand from out of his pants. He then slowly raised his fingers up to his nostrils and then breathed in deeply taking in the aroma of sweat, which had secreted from his genitals. He winced at the smell of the bitter stench. Shortly after, he proceeded to jam his pointer finger straight up into his right nostril. His fingernail scraped at the roof of his concaved nostril as if he was wrapping cotton candy around a stick. He released his finger from his nose and his nostrils flared. His fingered was covered in a gooey yellowish greenish slime. He then flicked it away somewhere off in the distance.

 

The dark figure was not turned off by Roger’s habits. In fact, he even wondered where that booger landed. He then worked up enough courage and started to approach him.

 

Roger was now busy inspecting the inside of his hairy filled belly button. He clenched both is hands onto his gut and just stared down at the small misshapen crater. He then took the same booger finger and started to poke around in his belly button. As Roger explored the insides of his navel he remembered a book he had read called Centered: Understanding Yourself Through Your Navel, and how that a certain doctor claimed he could tell a persons personality type, life expectancy, and general health all by looking at one’s bellybutton. Roger eventually ceased his bellybutton spelunking and after he was done, he once again raised his finger close to his nostril and took a big whiff. The smell traveled from his fingers to his nose hair follicles, which indubitably gagged him. The noxious scent smelled like excrement or spoiled meat.

 

The dark figure came closer and closer. Roger was unaware of the dark figure’s existence, because the dark figure was quiet and approached him from behind. Within no time, the dark figure was right over him. Since he was right over him, he could see a bird’s eye view of Roger. The dark figure could see down Roger’s shirt, which revealed a rather large cleavage.

 

Roger suddenly felt uneasy, as if his homeostasis was unbalanced. He felt this phantom presence, as if he was being watched. His throat felt scratchy, so he coughed up some thick phlegm, and as he did this, his stomach proceeded to growl loudly. Roger felt nervous and when Roger felt nervous, he would become gassy. He then inevitably let out a malodorous smelling fart. The noxious gas flowed upwards towards the dark figure.

 

The dark figure was not bothered by the smell since he had smelled much worst. He then moved closer to his ear. He then whispered something into Roger’s ear, but it was too muffled to make out. Roger flinched and quickly moved towards the left side of the couch, or as he referred to it as the cold side of the couch.

 

“What the…” said Roger.

 

Roger looked around to see who had whispered in his ear, but he already knew whom the culprit was. However, the dark figure could not be seen. It was hiding in the darkness, and Roger looked around with vigilant eyes.

 

“Where did he go?” muttered Roger to himself.

 

Roger got up from his couch and then switched on the lights. The lights beamed down into Roger’s dilated pupil and nearly burned his retinas. He examined the room looking for the slightest clue of intruder’s presents. Then he heard a loud buzzing sound.

 

The dark figure watched Roger, and then was distracted by the television. As soon as he refocused on Roger, he panicked. The intruder felt extraordinary pain that pulsated throughout his entire body. He twitched slightly and then closed his eyes for the last time.

 

“Stupid fly.”