Visions of Reality: A Short Story Collection by Erik Gustafson

Author:Erik Gustafson [Gustafson, Erik]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2012-03-17T04:30:00+00:00

The Fuse

A long tightly twisted straw-like string curved around the living room floor like a forgotten vacuum cleaner cord. One end of the cord dangled from the gloved hand of a man dressed entirely in black. His other hand held a silver Zippo. With a click, the lighter blazed to life and he held it under the cord.

The fuse ignited and sparked.

The man let it drop to the floor.

“Later,” he said and sprinted out of the room.

The burning progressed slowly, with a dreadful hiss. A small crawling spark, like an inchworm making its way across the floor, toward a small brick that looked like gray play dough.

The box sat motionless next to an overturned coffee table, but the family was anything but motionless. A mother, father, and daughter each had their hands and feet bound in ropes and those ropes were interlaced between all three.

Blood trickled out of the man’s nose, soaking into the tape covering his mouth.

Later? Did that guy really just say ‘Later’? The dad thought, his ears ringing from a blow he received from the mysterious man who had invaded their home. He looked at his wife.

Her face was puffy and pink. One eye was swollen closed. She was gagging under the tape.

Then he looked at his daughter. Her eyes were huge, blue and streaming with tears. Her black hair was matted, as if she had been sleeping, but she was otherwise unharmed.

He tried to understand what was happening.

Mike rotated his head, which was pressed against the carpet, and stared at the empty doorway the man had just fled through. He was praying the asshole would change his mind, retrace his footsteps, and return. Surely, he wouldn’t really leave them all here. He could wrap his mind around being robbed and beaten, but a bomb? That was something out of a movie.

They could strike a bargain with the whacko and offer him more money. A lot more. He would withdraw their entire savings, if that were what it took.

The crook even took their wedding rings!

The wiry cord shriveled another yard as it sizzled.

Helpless on the floor, they struggled and as the cord dwindle inch by precious inch. He was supposed to do something. Break free. There had to be a way out. How long now? Five minutes? Three minutes? Six seconds?? Mike wondered.

The blood rushed up and through his daughter like a mad train and her eyes fluttered back in her head. She went limp. It was probably for the better. Mike longed for the freedom to hold his baby girl in his arms.

He strained at the ropes; they angrily chewed into his flesh, but didn’t loosen.

His neck was stiff, but he angled his vision to check on his wife.

On their sides, the couple stared at the glowing ember eating the fuse. It left behind brown marks on the carpet as it went.

It was unbelievable. One of those horrid events that would most certainly have a happy conclusion. A neighbor would surely arrive any second now to borrow a cup of sugar or an egg, and save them all.

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