Doorway Monster Dana Ostrowski Third Place Sudden Fiction Winner

THIRD PLACE SUDDEN FICTION DOORWAY MONSTER

DANA OSTROWSKI

I move from door to door ringing bells, knocking on wood, and always, always hoping for once somebody will give me the time of day. I cannot begin to tell you how many times a door has been carelessly slammed in my face and how many window’s eyes have dropped the blinds down once they see me. By far the worst is when they actually open the door and tell me to kindly be on my way. It gives me hope and that is cruel.

So am I monster? Or some sort of apparition? Perhaps I’m death itself come to collect upon their souls? I fnd myself almost wishing that were the case! Ten at least it'd make sense. Ten I could forgive, forget and be on my merry way… but no. No I am but your average ignored door-to-door salesman.

Over these years I feel like I have transcended my human form to become this other wandering creature that feeds upon housewives, steals children in the night and tricks innocents. A being that subsists on the broken dreams and fnancial dependence of middle class suburbia. A most delicious meal ft for a monster that lurks in the shadows and slides paper thin through doorways.

It's a sad life being a monster, or rather slowly become this inhuman thing people see me as. Teir stares sear me and I feel my fesh start to pucker. I should be growing fangs and scales any day now. Really and truly I should. I am well aware how I manipulate people into buying my wares. I am aware but I cannot aford regret. I cannot aford to stop and I trod on and on from one door to the next. All I can do is try not to scuf their front step with the massive clawed toes that protrude from my polished shoes. I sigh.

I sigh a lot.

Te stress makes me sigh. It’s my weapon in development. My sighs can’t yet blow down cities, but sometimes I wonder if they’ll get there. Tere will come a day when I’ll be standing in front of a potential costumer’s house and when nobody answers I’ll sigh. Ten, but then, I’ll watch in horror as my sigh rolls over the neighborhood like a sonic boom leaving only a mass of fattened homes and bloody bodies. I’ll watch a cloud of dust and dirt rise from the ruins to join the clouds... Teir deaths will be on my hands. I worry about that more than I should for an upcoming monster…

Ah, but the guilt does gnaw and chew at my stomach. On one hand, I have my hurt feelings and conscience that tear me down bit by bit. Ten there’s the other hand, the one that thinks of my family and how badly I need this job, and it helps build me back up. Just a little. Just barely enough to keep my human heart from crumbling away into a monstrous sea. Tis internal dilemma! It may just kill me.

Until that day comes, I look into a mirror that refects a face that is slightly more transformed than the day before. Every morning, as I view my refection, I can feel myself slipping away. Ten I’ll go down to the kitchen, kiss my family good bye, and I’ll exit the house while fxing my tie and sigh at another beginning of another day. Ten it’s of to the grind and the eyes of strangers that shall distort my shape even more and I’ll growl like the creature I am surely becoming.

I don’t want to be a monster. I want to stay a human even as I can feel it slipping away. It hurts and I want to cry. I want to burrow into the ground where no one can see me, and where I can be lef alone. I am scared and insecure. I’m the type of monster that wonders about the future and worries about job security, a mortgage, and whether or not I’ll even have a job in a week. I thought evil creatures had no feelings? I wait for mine to disappear.

On my lunch breaks I always go fnd a park. I go right to the middle of the grass and lie down and stare at the sky. I dream. I dream that I am not transforming. I imagine that I am a wonderful person, a magical person. I’m able to help people and heal ailments. Not a monster, but a human and a friend and I am happy. While I lie there I try very hard not to cry.

My dreams make up the thread I use to pull myself through my days. Ten I can pull myself to another town, another street, another door, another bell, another welcome mat that lies. I plod on the best I can. Just another monster wearing a suit. Your average everyday door-to-door salesman.