GRUDGE BURST - Urban Fantasy Multi Protag Downward Spiral

A fourteen hour shift at the office today...

Tired. So tired. Too tired. As much as I would like to go out to the bars and have a glass, there is work to be done tomorrow. I can't go to work on a hangover. I have never missed a day in my life, neither for school, nor for my career. Even when I was infected with a virus, my mother forced me to go to school. I have never missed attendance, and it will certainly not start in my career. That being said, I was so distracted with my devotion, that my tired body stumbles to the station at such an alarmingly slow pace. I arrive at my usual stop... just as the train left!

"heY- HEY, WAIT" I cry out.

The train left without me. I desperately check the train schedule that was posted on the wall.

That was the last one.

Of course I sulk. I groggily walk up the steps in shame. I felt something plop onto my head. As if a kernel just dropped from a building. It was wet. And then another. And then another. Pretty soon, it started pouring hard. These wet bullets drench my suit and briefcase. I clutch onto my work as if it were my child. In a sense of sorts- it was. Damn if I let any mere molecule of water soak into my hard work. I hug onto it with my breast, shielding it from the world with my hunched back and business suit. Damn. The one day I didn't bring my umbrella...

I look desperately for a taxi. I wait in the rain at the center of the district.

10 minutes pass.

20 minutes pass.

It's no use.

And to think that my coworkers offered me a ride. I politely declined. Nobody would ever want a leech in their friend group. Hell, I always stay an hour later just to impress my peers and bosses around me. A valuable asset. A genius in the accounting department. I read graphs with but a mere glance. All without the aid of these computer programs no less. People must be really impressed by me. If I were gone, the company... the work force... I suppose a part of society as a whole... they would miss me...

Right?

I pull my briefcase tight to my chest.

I slump down on the bench.

Something wet goes down my cheek.

"Right?"

.

.

.

I march onwards towards home. Mere liquid won't deter me from getting a good night's rest. It takes about an Hour and a half to get from home to work (and vice versa) on the train. Granted, a majority of that is due to stalling from picking up people at different sites. So with some calculation, I predict that it will take me four hours to walk from here to home. It's 11:56 PM right now, so by the time I get home, I'll have a good three hour rest. Yes, this is a solid plan. And now, I march. Nothing will deter the determined Yamada-san.

Twenty minutes pass.

I'm on the ground with mud on my suit. My briefcase is wet; no doubt some water has seeped in. I can only imagine myself from a third person's perspective. I suppose I really am out of shape.

"Am I really this weak?"

.

.

.

After a couple of slow, grueling hours of rain water bulleting my person, my work, and my ego, as well as my legs feeling like sandbags, I arrive at my humble apartment.

For the first time since 7 PM, a hint of energy permeates my body.

I rush inside my apartment, taking everything off, hastily putting on my pajamas so that I may put my dirty suit into the washer. I look at the door where I left my umbrella earlier.

It mocks me.

As that happens, I open my briefcase over my sink. Out spills at least a pint of water...

My documents...several hours of work...

Ruined.

BUT NOT DESTROYED.

Praying to the local gods, I waste no time in finding a hair dryer and use it for its intended purpose: drying the documents.

I'm glad I bought this device a long time ago. A silly endeavor. They laughed at me. But at least I get to secure my job one more day.

After 30 minutes of drying both my clothes and documents, I finally arrive at my bed; my final resting spot.

I kneel down on the side of my bed.

I close my eyes.

A single tear rolls down my cheek.

If there is a local Kami that may listen to my pleads in my time of need.

Please.

Please.

I only wish for a lucky grace.

An easier life just for one day.

I crawl atop my bed, not even covering myself. I close my heavy eyes and within seconds, I fall into a pitch black slumber.

.

.

.

I wake up at 6:30 AM. I start at 9:00 AM. It takes 20 minutes to travel from the train station to the Office, and I must arrive 10 minutes early to sate appearances. 7:30 to 8:30, that occupies my time on the train. If I'm lucky enough, I can perhaps have a taste of a 20 minute nap; nothing more, however, for that risks recycling my REM schedule. Damn if I have rest take priority over my livelihood. And it takes an hour to wake up, reset my alarm for a 5 minute nap, rest, wake up again, reset my alarm for another 2 minute slumber, rest, then finally wake up for real, shower, brush my teeth, eat breakfast, brush my teeth again, iron my clothes, sprint towards the train station, and wait there for seventeen minutes.

That is my typical schedule. However, for some reason, I must have slept really awkwardly last night. My body feels heavier, yet my limbs feel limber. Longer. I have a stiff neck... geez what did I do last night? Was I looking down at the pages for so long? Nonsense. I'm that same posture at work for hours on end and it's never triggered a pain this bad before... unless it's starting to catch up to me now... but that doesn't make sense. Why now?

Nevermind that, why is my peripheral vision larger?

I can see the ceiling, the rest of my room, and the ground all at once...

...

Okay now that I think about it, that's not that big of a deal...

Perhaps my permanent posture has made it so that I only look at the ground in my everyday life. Have I really never noticed this perspective of life before? Looking straight? If so, then why does it feel so weird? There's no possible way I've worked myself into the physique of a ghoul, because that would be embarrassing. Shameful!

Perhaps it's my multitasking technique that has made my vision permanently skewed. I would often use my left eye to look at the screen and use my right eye as a means of noting things down on the documents, that way I would shave off .23 seconds of looking up and down. That may seem silly, but in the realm of a businessman, time is everything. Mere seconds add up, and even in those thirteen minutes of accumulated time from looking up and down, one could have used those minutes to fill out a form... or two.

...

No.

That's stupid. That'd be silly. Possible, mayhaps, but do I really believe that I have permanently malformed one of my eyes to become a lazy eye?

...

Now that I think about it, that is pretty plausible... oddly enough, in one of the few talks I recall with my father, he did warn me about crossing my eyes as a kid, or else they'd become permanent...

Oh cripe what am I doing? DILLY-DALLYING? I have to get to work today.

I stumble throughout my room and into the shower. As difficult as navigating without glasses is, I of course can remember the layout of my apartment. But that doesn't explain why I bump into each wall. Perhaps it's because of the rush I'm in that I just happen to haphazardly bump into everything, but this is ridiculous. Now that I mention it, I no longer feel that shrimplike posture take a toll on my back... but did I become wider? I know sleeping has its benefits but it surely isn't overnight. I know I prayed last night... but that was a silly moment of weakness. Me. A womanizing embodiment of masculinity. Overnight. Pft.

Maybe in the next life.

But for now, I must SHOWER.

Steaming hot as usual. Man, hunching over might have been an easier life for me because standing upright feels awkward. Have my legs always been this weak? That's laughable. Perhaps I should go to the gym... if I had the time to begin with. As I mourn my decrepit self image, I scrub away at the filth. Oh shit I don't think I even showered last night- EEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!

My loofa extinguishes the dirt from last night. For shame. If I had my mother or a wife that lived with me, I wouldn't hear the end of it; rightfully so. Tsk, Tsk, Tsk Yamada-San. How old are you now? Thirty? And you still didn't find it necessary to shower after being out in the rain and mud? Despicable, I know; I KNOW. Forgive me for being the pathetic insect I am. Even children have better hygiene than me. It's so frustrating, so silly I could laugh... but I can't... because talking to myself in the shower risks my time management, and this holy schedule of mine won't be wasted on self hatred.

...

...

I'm showering my head and yet, I'm noticing a lack of hair except for these two very apparent and strong foils of hair... I'm going to look disgusting to my peers. I suppose years of stress and showering in hot waters does that to a man. Which is weird that all of a sudden, everything seems to be going oddly TODAY of all days. Is it a special day today? A holiday? No, or else there wouldn't be work today... not that I go out either way. A festival? Hell no, I still would go to work regardless. I'm not going to risk a bonus pay for the sake of frolicking with young people crowding the streets. Hooligans. They don't know what trials and tribulations and taxes and accounting FORMS and years of university await them. But at least that bonus will pay off. Eventually.

I dry myself and wipe away the steamy mirror within the bathroom. There he is. That familiar stranger. The person I am today. The person I have been. The person I will be. Eugh. Even in my blurred, foggy vision, all I see is this mountainous black and brown blob...

Black and brown.

Black...

Brown. . . . .

black and brown...

blob...?

Black and brown

BLACK AND BROWN?

HANG ON

HANG ON

I'M NOT EVEN BEING METAPHORICAL ANYMORE

I RUSH TOWARDS MY ROOM AND GRAB MY GLASSES. LONG AND SPINDLY ARM?

"WHAT THE FUCK?"

I PUT ON MY GLASSES JUST TO MAKE SURE I'M NOT DREAMING

CHECK AGAIN

LONG AND SPINDLY ARM.

I SPRINT BACK TO THE BATHROOM.

THERE I SEE WHAT I HAVE BECOME.

"EuoOO"

"EEEAAGHGA"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGYYYYYYYYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA"

I'M SO TAKEN ABACK THAT I MOLT ON THE SPOT AND LAND AGAINST THE WALL.

MY PALE FIGURE LOOKS BACK AT THE VERY LITERAL, VERY REAL EVIDENCE OF WHAT I HAVE BECOME.

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW"

OH MY GOD.

OH MY GOD.

I

I-I-

WHAT DO I DO?

WHERE DO I GO?

CAN I STILL WEAR CLOTHES?

WHAT ABOUT WORK?

DO I CALL OFF?

No... NO! They'll think something is off...

...

SOMETHING IS OFF DAMN IT!

oooOOOHHHH MYYYYYYYY-

I CAN'T LEAVE LIKE THIS!

...But I can't miss work either...

Should I call off a sick day?

No, they'll think less of me... I can't have that.

And if I miss work, they'll fire me. And if they fire me, I won't have money anymore. Nevermind the amount that I have in the bank, that only gets me so far. What, a maximum of living in this apartment for another year. Two, maximum? That doesn't even cover the food costs... How will I be seen? Can I even venture out there? Will I get shot on the spot? I understand that this isn't the United States so thank god for that, but that doesn't stop the Police from shooting a giant COCKROACH.

A family emergency- that's it!

...

Well, that would be it if they didn't know that I have nobody else in my life. All of my immediate family are dead, and I haven't had any contact with any of my cousins for the past 18 years or so. They would smell that lie from a mile... DAMN IT! AND THE CLOCK IS STILL TICKING. HERE I AM HAVING A MELTDOWN, AND I STILL HAVEN'T HAD BREAKFAST. TO HELL WITH THIS, I WON'T HAVE A CONDITION DEFINE ME! EVEN IF I END UP LOOKING RIDICULOUS, I WON'T HAVE THIS FORM RIP AWAY THE ONLY THING I HAVE.

A

SCHEDULE

MUST

BE

ADHERED

TO

But how am I going to do THIS. IMPROVISE. As I stuff cereal and raw egg into my mandible, I look for the biggest pairs of business suits that I have.

My fate makes me realize that I was always this skinny, even as a child.

DAMN IT ALL.

I suppose I just have to be as delicate as I... can!

With the pinnacle of precision and care, I try my hardest, finding the perfect angle to softly wear my suit. Though my insect frame is large, it seems my frail, skinny build was translated over to cockroach form or else I would have ripped the suit by even attempting to wear it. I can feel the thing that turned me into this laugh at me in a cruel sense of irony. The most annoying process is the pants. The damn PANTS. I can't fit the back of my frame with my pants. It’s uncomfortable and simply wouldn't fit. Thankfully my suit covers a majority of my back so as long as I have my back close to the walls, nothing...

...

or rather, something very minimal will be out of the ordinary. Oh not only that, I could wear a heavy coat that goes down to my legs! And if I scrunch up my legs into an uncomfortable degree, I can barely give the illusion of walking like a human. For the face, I can put on a blue face mask. Have an excuse about being weary about the health of myself and others. Yes, A lame excuse. That's something I would absolutely do! That way I can cover my mandibles and a good degree of my face. The only other hurtle is the 60% rest of my face...

*sigh*

I hate to do this, but it seems I have to wear my hat to hide away my long antennae as well as the rest of my face.

Crunching down my antenna hurt like hell, but it was a worthy sacrifice compared to being caught as a freak. My glasses would awkwardly rest atop my head, leaving me to tilt my head at a weird angle so that it seems like I have a normal human head shape. It also didn't help that I still needed my glasses to see. What a pain!

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

Twelve knocks.

Oh shit.

It's that damn nosey neighbor!

"Yamada-San, are you alright? I heard screaming from down the hall, are you okay?"

"Y-Yes! I just... spilled coffee on my suit. You know how it is!"

"Oh really? Huh... Well I also heard you scream 'ew' a while ago when I was showering, so I thought it was something-"

"NO- no, nonono you misheard, I'm sure of it"

Quick, laugh it off so it's not awkward.

"Heheeehheahhahhjahhaahajaha"

I hate myself.

"Ohhh, well, I'm inclined to not believe you hohoho! I'll call over the manager so that we can help you, because I know the screams of someone who needs help, and the nervous laughter of someone who's hiding something!"

"NO! NO. I SWEAR, I DO NOT NEED HELP. I APPRECIATE IT BUT, I DON'T NEED IT. THANK YOU."

"....

...

I'm calling the manager."

YOU BITCH

Knowing the way she is, she's not bluffing.” God damn, to hell with kind people and their gross ilk. Who knew the self righteous were so ARROGANT. I know people who are being abused need to be checked up on because their abuser wouldn't allow them to speak the truth, but- god DAMN, LEAVE ME BE.

I have to go to work, but I can't be seen by anyone in the apartments, so that leaves me with my only escape being... THE WINDOW.

I've never used a fire escape before... but now is not the time to worry; I have a train to catch.

Briefcase in hand, hat on my head, second pair of arms tucked inside my suit, I awkwardly maneuver myself out of the window and hope to GOD nobody is looking upwards in my direction. I can already feel my feet hurt inside these shoes, awkwardly fitting inside the multiple layers of socks just to make them fit. But nevertheless, I have to get out of here this way so that I may not be seen by the neighbor and the manag-

My molt.

It's still inside the bathroom.

If they find it-

I am dead.

Despite already being half way down, I frantically climb back up and throw myself back inside my flat. This of course breaks my window. I can hear the elevator DING right down the hall. I barge into the bathroom. The molt is still there, stiff as ever.

"PERFECT" I yell.

I hear both of them converse down the hall as their footsteps become louder and louder.

I toss the molt outside. I frantically open my briefcase and rip out a piece of notebook paper.

CHk-CHk

The door jingles.

"Yamada-san, are you in there?"

I instinctively call out "NO"

I then automatically slap my hand on my would-be forehead.

Damn it.

I frantically write down the note. Slam my briefcase, and throw myself out the window (again). I see the molt get carried away by the wind. Whoever is unlucky enough to encounter a nearly two meter tall molt of a giant standing cockroach, I say this with all my heart: I'm sorry.

I drop down from staircase to staircase to evade their eyes, and sprint towards the direction of the train station.

.

.

.

Meanwhile, the Neighbor and the Manager use the Manager's key and enter Yamada's apartment. They are greeted with cereal all over the floor, as well as broken egg shells, a couple of wet spots on the carpet that lead from the bathroom to his room, and of course, the broken window.

The note on the table is held by a paper weight.

It reads as such in frantic scribbling:

The manager grimaces.

The neighbor, who had good intentions looks at the manager who had "that face." The one every tenant fears.

She knew what was going to happen to Yamada-San.

"Oh..." says the neighbor in a regretful tone.

.

.

.

I sprint down the fire escape and hide in the alleyway. Slowly but surely, I emerge, inconspicuous amongst these humans. My excuse to blend in just in case they ask? Hm...Yes... a businessman with time management so godly, he has equal time to work and workout. A perfect story. I blend so casually, I'm almost proud of myself.

...

...

Oh crap... people are starting to stare. Here I thought they'd be hypnotized by their phones, their social medias and their online heroes, but now, they all of a sudden just HAPPEN to notice me... for once. On top of my rather unusual stature (to be fair it's not our fault our average heights are around 5'7" or less), walking with these legs is REALLY uncomfortable. My legs right now are simply not designed to carry my entire weight on just two legs. Though it's true that I'm really light for my height, even in this form, this is still really tiring, especially when I have to force myself in a semi-hunched over position. On top of that, I have to walk forward in a hobbling type of way, leaning from side to side for every stride. I look like a buffoon! I hear these girls snicker. I see children point at me. Yamada the clown. It makes me angry. It makes me feel vengeful. I feel my eye twitch from this rude realization. It fuels me...to...

...to...

TO HURRY MY ASS UP-

THE TRAIN LEAVES IN FIVE MINUTES.

I've been complaining to myself for such a long while, that I forgot that I had less time than usual because of the shenanigans back home.

I am four city blocks away from my usual entrance. There are five traffic lights on my way there. Walking in an orderly fashion will make me lose my train. I cannot afford that; not after what I just risked at home. Thus I must proceed: in a semi-unorderly fashion! For shame, I know. But I must sacrifice my social image and my polite nature for the four minutes and forty seconds I have to spare. I shuffle past these humans at a quick pace. I preemptively say "Sorry!" and "Excuse me!" as I softly bump into these people. Surely at least one of these people can relate to my situation. Now at least in this pace I know for certain I can-

Ding

The traffic light. It halted the cross walk for the street urchins. Dead at my tracks. I forgot to account for the possibility of traffic lights slowing me down. No. And all the other ones are off-sync, implying I'll be stopping more than once. They take a minute minimum to end. No. Yamada you idiot. Nonononononononono. I can feel my palms slowly heat up. It seems I don't have pores, or at least traditional sweat glands, but I sense that same feeling when I can't find the keys to my apartment or when my credit card is missing from my wallet. That same sentiment of my heart going down to my stomach hits me. Several appendages twitch all at once. My heart beats louder and louder. It mutes the busy life of the city. The cars accelerate slower. The voices of the people become quieter. The clouds of smog from the vehicles turn from gray to clear. The wind breathes on me. The world becomes inverted. My vision skews to my new target. I've already wasted enough time. I look past the traffic light seven meters away and look directly at my real target:

The subway entrance.

I look at the cars.

No.

I look at how far the traffic goes.

Nonononono NO NO NO. NO. NO!

Each second feels like five seconds.

Each five seconds in this intersection feel like a minute in real time.

I can already feel the train slipping by.

TO HELL WITH THIS.

I JUST HAVE TO IMAGINE THAT

THEY

ARE NOT

THERE.

I slide my face mask down. I bite the handle of my briefcase while I get on all fours (since my two other arms are tucked inside my suit). My limbs bend into a comfortable degree. The natural way a cockroach should move. Even in a skewed perception of time, I can feel the toddler right next to me stare. This is so embarrassing.

I hate this.

But this is the necessary course of action.

COCKROACH-

DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

A surge of energy bursts into my being. I haven't ran since I was in middle school. In recent years the fastest I've ever gotten with my legs is the "hurried" casual stride when going to work. Not now. Most likely due to my tainted physiology, I've gained a greater sense of speed and awareness. A car turning left heads towards me. I needn't worry since I'm far faster than it. The long bus blocking my way towards the diagonal straight line to my destination acts as a wall. As an answer, I lower my flat body to a ridiculous degree that I skitter underneath it. The one section where people are crossing, I gently try to slow myself down- but I'm simply too quick. Oh no, someone's going to get hurt! I have to look at the perfect thing to crash myself into. They're in the way, but if I take a detour, that will add a good 20 seconds to my time limit. If I crash into those short ladies, they might get smushed. If I crash into that lady and her child- I can't do that! If I crash into the thickest part of the mass of people, surely the damage will be mitigated, but that will slow me down as well as cause massive injuries to the people. Where to, where to?

I see a large business man, towering over the crowd. He looks foreign and distinguished. A build of a bodybuilder with large fat and bulk in his frame.

"I'm sorry fat gentleman."

I lower my flat body again and skitter down to his feet. If I aimed at his legs, something tells me that I would snap his knees backwards. Lower. Lower. LOWER. Mere atoms away from the ground, I preemptively yell "SORRY" as I crash into his shoes and slide past him. Of course this flipped him over like some cartoon, but from the looks of it, he looked more pissed and confused than injured.

I hop from oncoming car to car and finally manage to reach the entrance of the subway.

My heart beats so fast it feels as if it's going to explode. The drums of war beat louder and louder. Is this it? The natural road of beastly masculinity? Have I reduced myself into such a beast that it implies metaphorical irony?

...

Psh...

Come on now.

A beast would be a Tiger or a Wolf. Insects aren't beasts. Besides, I did it out of necessity, not out of violence. Yamada, you have done it again! You have saved your pride once more. And hey, despite how fun that admittedly was, I would never do it again. Now to just stand back up, to the uncomfortable degree, put my briefcase back into my hand, walk down the stairs, turn left and-

I barely see the glow of the train's backlights leave the platform.

Are you

...

Are you?

No.

This is unreal.

This can't be

I-

You-

.

I hunch over. Even more compared to my normal "up-right" 35 degree angle cockroach stance. The train has left. There's no way I can make it to work. Even if I run over to the city, I will still be at least twenty minutes later. All of this was for nothing. I can feel all of my limbs droop. It's hopeless. I would have to be crazy to do anything in this situation. My life is over. My job will fire me. My apartment will be ripped away from me. All because I missed the train by three seconds. All because I turned into a GOD DAMN COCKROACH. All because-

of me.

I don't know what I did wrong. I don't know what I did to deserve this. I apologize to whatever force cursed me. I would do anything to have my life back.

But that's just not how reality works.

I turn back around.

I just want to sleep and wake up from this nightmare. Better yet, I just want to rest and never wake up ever again.

Owari da.

.

.

.

..

...

........

............................

STEP STEP STEP STEP STEP STEP

I PUSH PAST THE PEOPLE BLOCKING MY PATH

I JUMP ONTO THE TRAIN TRACKS

I READY MYSELF IN THAT SAME SPRINTER POSITION ONCE AGAIN

"COCKROACH"

"DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSHHHHH"

MY VISION BECOMES INVERTED ONCE MORE

I WON'T LET THAT TRAIN LEAVE ME BEHIND AGAIN

FASTER

FASTER

FASTER DAMN IT FASTEEEEEEEEEEERRRRRRRRRR

THE FEELING OF RUSHING BLOOD ENVELOPES MY SYSTEM. THE SAME SENTIMENT AS TURNING IN A REPORT 4 MINUTES BEFORE ITS DUE, OR SUCCESSFULLY HOLDING MY PEE IN A MEETING FOR OVER HALF AN HOUR, I FEEL IT.

THE PASSION I NEED.

THROUGH GRITTING TEETH I ACTIVELY CURSE OUT THAT DAMN TRAIN.

SKITTER SKITTER SKITTER SKITTER SKITTER SKITTER SKITTER SKITTER SKITTER SKITTER SKITTER SKITTER SKITTER SKITTER SKITTER SKITTER SKITTER SKITTER SKITTER SKITTER SKITTER SKITTER

THE HANDLE OF THE BACKDOOR, IT TEASES ME AS I'M MERE CENTIMETERS AWAY.

I LET OUT A BLOOD CURDLING GGGGGYYYYYYYYYYYYYYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

I USE THE OILS ON MY FINGERS TO STICK ON.

Waving my arm around, I finally get a hold of it after the fifteenth try...

Only for the train get a hold of ME

THOUSANDS OF POUNDS OF PRESSURE YANK MY BODY AROUND. THE VERY MOMENT I SLOW DOWN, AT BEST MY ARM COMES OFF AND AT WORST- I GET RIPPED APART

With a visceral HISS I latch my other arm onto the rail, before leaping upwards and landing on the platform.

Though cramped, I lay there, spent. I can feel my ligaments ache beyond comprehension. Muscles that I didn't know existed pulsed.

It hurts.

But it hurts so good.

...

As fun as that was, I hope to never attempt that again.

I look upwards from where I lay.

I see a person stare through the window in disbelief. To be fair, I think it was his first time seeing a nearly two meter tall cockroach so, I can understand why he started frantically screaming.

To avoid that, I latch onto the side of the door and start climbing upwards atop the roof. Though it's narrow, my body and my briefcase are just skinny enough to avoid problems. Despite rarely ever being cleaned, it's not as dirty as the ground. Still, I feel disgusting having my coat so... dusty.

I still took my typical twenty minute power nap in the hour-long ride; definitely needed that after what I just went through. The train finally arrives at the station. I slide down from the right and while people are busy loading onto and unloading from the train, I sneak out from the side and onto the platform. Surprisingly, people didn't notice. Yet for once, it's as if this social invisibility actually helped me out. It wasn't a hindrance back then, it just felt terrible. But now, it's almost as if I can get away with this hulking body.

For the first time today.

I smile.

...

Oh crap right, I have to stop daydreaming; I have to get to work.