Seven: Guilt or “He went”

He lay there in the dirt of his room. Watching the Coyote chase the Road Runner, beep-beep. A smile plastered on his face as his fingers mindlessly transferred fried nuts from the packet to his mouth. The room was filled with blue light emanating from his laptop screen over his stomach. It cast great shadows and amplified the garbage around.

Wile E Coyote, Genius.

He always wondered, why did the Coyote not order food, if it could order his Acme do-it-your-self kits. The Coyote was silly, he smirked. And that was funny.

The Coyote moreover was supremely self-assured. He wrote ‘genius’ on his visiting card. He would never do that. No. He was a genius though, like Wile E.

The problem with the Coyote’s plan were that they were too complicated, and were doomed to fail. The damning was not related to the convolutedness of his contraptions.

He was damned to begin with. A genius, in the desert, chasing a road runner, beep-beep. He was damned by the lord who put him there. He was put there for amusement. He was the protagonist but not the hero.

He thought about the Coyote, as yet again he fell down. He was like the Coyote.

His peanuts were over. He wiped the grease on his fingers on his bare bed. And shut the laptop screen. And placed it on the floor.

He would have to leave for Paris the day after. He did not deserve it. He did not even know what he had to do, what he wanted to do. He was scared of ruining this like he had every other time. Successful till but the very end, where it all fell apart. He was damned by the Lord who put him here. He wondered who he was amusing.

One clap, two clap, three clap, forty?

By clapping more or less, you can signal to us which stories really stand out.