Regular Joe - Original Writing

Regular Joe - Original Writing

The lamp flickered for a second, but long enough to distract Joe from

his work. The office was silent at this time of night; everyone else

had long gone home to their family, but he wanted to finish these last

reports. The scratching sound of his pen over the paper, seemed to be

magnified and echoed through his mind. A slight breeze hit his skin.

Instantly, he gave a small shiver and turned around. The window had

been left open and as he shut it, he looked out at the city lights.

How small they all seemed up here, like hundreds of tiny candles, each

flame slowly burning away to nothing.

On these quiet nights he seemed to dwell on his own existence, for

there was no distraction to occupy his mind with other thoughts. He

would often think back to his school years, when so many opportunities

lay before him. He had always thought of himself as a fireman, or a

footballer, and couldn't help but wondering what that small boy would

have thought of him now. He was almost 40, and his dark, black hair

was starting to thin and turn more of a dusty grey. His eyes, which

had once sparkled with hope, now seemed tired, and slightly glazed

over. He turned back to his desk, his face hitting the lamplight for a

moment, and showing shadows under his wrinkled eyes. The thought of

going back to his empty flat seemed somehow less appealing than this

deserted office. He had almost finished the reports and knew that he

would have to leave eventually. He sat down on his worn chair, lifted

his pen back up and continued.

The penetrating sound of his alarm woke Joe up immediately. His hand,

almost automatically, hammered do...

... middle of paper ...

...how Claire Thomas, a newly qualified vet had gone

missing four months previously and, since then, nine other people had

strangely disappeared. They were all different: Vet, schoolgirl,

retired man, a youth, who they expected had just run away, a homeless

man who was frequently seen in the town, a housewife …. There was

another article in the paper, this one was not as exciting as the

first, but just as strange. Apparently a Local farmer, who went by the

name of Jeff Storm, had said that his pigs seemed to be living on

nothing. On several occasions in the last few months he had arrived to

give them their breakfast but their trough had been knocked over, with

the food trapped underneath, yet the pigs did not seem any hungrier

than usual. He could not explain what these pigs were eating, as there

were never any remains.