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Title: It’s Sort Of Amusing, His Muse.
Author:Chico (Lost_for_Jack)
Summary: Benny’s muse. (Wow, I think that’s the shortest summary ever.)
Word Count: 666
Notes: Yeah, this was just for kicks; just had an itch and had to scratch it. If it doesn’t make sense, blame the uber long day at work.
Benny had a muse. Yes, the self-centered, ass, Benny, had a muse. Granted, not a soul knew about it save him, but he had one. It was deep in the far left corner of his closet, underneath twelve boxes of junk, and wrapped in old t-shirts from his high school days. He took it out only once every few years, but lately, he had been digging more and more often for it. It was his one sanity in his ‘world’; it kept him grounded. Benny could feel himself falling farther and farther away from what he understood, and that’s how the digging started. He figured that if he buried it, he would forget and shrug everything off. But his plan had backfired. In the end, he had removed everything and laid it very carefully under in bed in the back corner, far enough so no one could see it, but close enough for him to take hold of when he needed it. The digging and boxes were meant to be a barrier, he first thought that getting rid of it completely would be better, but he had backed out in the last minute, taking it back home and admonishing himself for even thinking of doing such an act. After that, Benny kept a careful track of not letting himself get too wrapped up in it. He couldn’t get carried away. If that happened, well, he’d lose his touch. His ‘asshole qualities’ as the others called them.
Breathing in the fumes of New York, he checked his watch for the umpteenth time. God, time had never moved slower than it had today. Everything he did was going wrong and everyone he talked to was staring through him, not paying attention to what he was saying. He couldn’t keep his mind focused, which was his problem. It kept ignoring his attempts at blocking it out and heading straight towards it. There, under his bed, it laid, waiting for him, and where was he? Doing his job, which wasn’t getting much better as time wore on. So why fight it? Just go home early, just for a few minutes and then come back. Then, everything will flow better; his mind urged him. Closing his eyes briefly, he forced a grin and continued speaking to his company, but his mind wouldn’t let him get away that easily. Go ahead, it whispered, just do it. The man he was talking to left, and Benny found himself heading home, ignoring people’s ponderings of where he was going.
Shutting the door behind him, he locked it securely and still tried to fight his mind on what he was here for. But it was a vain attempt; he was kneeling by the bed now and throwing everything out from under it before he found his prize.
It was twenty inches long, and it smelled horrible. But what did you expect from something that he had kept since he was two? Folding his knees against his chest, he held it close. Inhaling the scent, his mind went back to happier times. When he had awoken one night from a nightmare and receiving it as a gift from his father.
The cotton of it was soon wet with tears as Benny clutched it all the closer. Taking in a shuddering breath, he soon felt the ease that only this could bring about. It would come soon enough. These days it took longer than when he had to dig for it. He supposed that the dig had started his mind on what it would bring, and now that all he had to do was reach, it took him longer.
And then it happened; the release, the sudden comfort that came, and he felt himself laugh softly at the simplicity of it all. Leaning his head back against the bed frame, he grinned at the lack of weight now, “Thanks, buddy,” he whispered to his sock monkey that had survived through a ton of things.
Just like Benny.
Title: It’s Sort Of Amusing, His Muse.
Author:Chico (Lost_for_Jack)
Summary: Benny’s muse. (Wow, I think that’s the shortest summary ever.)
Word Count: 666
Notes: Yeah, this was just for kicks; just had an itch and had to scratch it. If it doesn’t make sense, blame the uber long day at work.
Benny had a muse. Yes, the self-centered, ass, Benny, had a muse. Granted, not a soul knew about it save him, but he had one. It was deep in the far left corner of his closet, underneath twelve boxes of junk, and wrapped in old t-shirts from his high school days. He took it out only once every few years, but lately, he had been digging more and more often for it. It was his one sanity in his ‘world’; it kept him grounded. Benny could feel himself falling farther and farther away from what he understood, and that’s how the digging started. He figured that if he buried it, he would forget and shrug everything off. But his plan had backfired. In the end, he had removed everything and laid it very carefully under in bed in the back corner, far enough so no one could see it, but close enough for him to take hold of when he needed it. The digging and boxes were meant to be a barrier, he first thought that getting rid of it completely would be better, but he had backed out in the last minute, taking it back home and admonishing himself for even thinking of doing such an act. After that, Benny kept a careful track of not letting himself get too wrapped up in it. He couldn’t get carried away. If that happened, well, he’d lose his touch. His ‘asshole qualities’ as the others called them.
Breathing in the fumes of New York, he checked his watch for the umpteenth time. God, time had never moved slower than it had today. Everything he did was going wrong and everyone he talked to was staring through him, not paying attention to what he was saying. He couldn’t keep his mind focused, which was his problem. It kept ignoring his attempts at blocking it out and heading straight towards it. There, under his bed, it laid, waiting for him, and where was he? Doing his job, which wasn’t getting much better as time wore on. So why fight it? Just go home early, just for a few minutes and then come back. Then, everything will flow better; his mind urged him. Closing his eyes briefly, he forced a grin and continued speaking to his company, but his mind wouldn’t let him get away that easily. Go ahead, it whispered, just do it. The man he was talking to left, and Benny found himself heading home, ignoring people’s ponderings of where he was going.
Shutting the door behind him, he locked it securely and still tried to fight his mind on what he was here for. But it was a vain attempt; he was kneeling by the bed now and throwing everything out from under it before he found his prize.
It was twenty inches long, and it smelled horrible. But what did you expect from something that he had kept since he was two? Folding his knees against his chest, he held it close. Inhaling the scent, his mind went back to happier times. When he had awoken one night from a nightmare and receiving it as a gift from his father.
The cotton of it was soon wet with tears as Benny clutched it all the closer. Taking in a shuddering breath, he soon felt the ease that only this could bring about. It would come soon enough. These days it took longer than when he had to dig for it. He supposed that the dig had started his mind on what it would bring, and now that all he had to do was reach, it took him longer.
And then it happened; the release, the sudden comfort that came, and he felt himself laugh softly at the simplicity of it all. Leaning his head back against the bed frame, he grinned at the lack of weight now, “Thanks, buddy,” he whispered to his sock monkey that had survived through a ton of things.
Just like Benny.