In The Doldrums of Apathy
Posted in feebility
A man wanted to write a story that would change the world.
But he was too bored to scribble the first word. So bored that the Grim Reaper came while the man was doodling, but left when he couldn't talk the man into dying. Bored to death? No, Death got bored and left.
"How can you splash thoughts on paper when nothing of consequence ever happens to you?" said the man to himself. He wasn't surprised when nobody replied. After all, he was boring. So he let go of the dried out pen and took a walk outside.
He met a stranger carrying a sack of bloody bones. "Are those... human bones?" the boring man asked the stranger. "Yep. Met him yesterday." And with the sweat dripping from his forehead, the boring man kept on walking.
A woman came up to him and started quoting bible verses to him. "Thou shall not covet thy neighbor's wife!" preached the woman, while holding her underwear out to him. Again, the boring man kept walking.
As he was heading back home a great war erupted between the Irites and the Dews over who was the better basket-weaving people. The boring man found himself in the middle of a battlefield. Hundreds lay dead as women and children fled for their safety. But as Death still would not approach him, he kept on walking.
The boring man got home at last and decided to write about everything that had happened that day. He dipped his feather quill in ink, spread the pages of his journal open, and began writing. Page after page he scribbled feverishly hoping that he could put in as much detail as he could remember about the people he met and the war that he witnessed. When he was done, he held up his journal against the light of the oil lamp and smiled contentedly.
"Another disturbingly boring piece." he thought to himself. He called it "In The Doldrums of Apathy".
But he was too bored to scribble the first word. So bored that the Grim Reaper came while the man was doodling, but left when he couldn't talk the man into dying. Bored to death? No, Death got bored and left.
"How can you splash thoughts on paper when nothing of consequence ever happens to you?" said the man to himself. He wasn't surprised when nobody replied. After all, he was boring. So he let go of the dried out pen and took a walk outside.
He met a stranger carrying a sack of bloody bones. "Are those... human bones?" the boring man asked the stranger. "Yep. Met him yesterday." And with the sweat dripping from his forehead, the boring man kept on walking.
A woman came up to him and started quoting bible verses to him. "Thou shall not covet thy neighbor's wife!" preached the woman, while holding her underwear out to him. Again, the boring man kept walking.
As he was heading back home a great war erupted between the Irites and the Dews over who was the better basket-weaving people. The boring man found himself in the middle of a battlefield. Hundreds lay dead as women and children fled for their safety. But as Death still would not approach him, he kept on walking.
The boring man got home at last and decided to write about everything that had happened that day. He dipped his feather quill in ink, spread the pages of his journal open, and began writing. Page after page he scribbled feverishly hoping that he could put in as much detail as he could remember about the people he met and the war that he witnessed. When he was done, he held up his journal against the light of the oil lamp and smiled contentedly.
"Another disturbingly boring piece." he thought to himself. He called it "In The Doldrums of Apathy".
