To Be Served With S'mores And Hot Dr Pepper

INVASION OF THE PILES

By

Magenta Lame'

~A short body of work to be read on All Hallows' Eve preferably by the glare of a glowing computer screen.~

It always begins innocently enough doesn't it?

Having been busy the past few months, my intent was to bring a feeling of clean and organized back to my home.  Everything in it's place and a place for everything.  This was my plan.

Beginning in the front of the house and working my way back, I found myself placing things in the office that didn't have a designated spot.  My office would be put off for last. This was my haven where few dared to trespass.  It could be straighted out later when everything else was complete.  This was my blueprint, but like with all good intentions, the fickle finger of fate had another idea in mind for me. 

And so it began.

Mail tossed on the desk to be opened later, a few bills waiting to be paid, a folder of invoices and an unfinished project or two gathering dust in the corner...just waiting to be properly handled.  Innocuous enough and certainly nothing to send up warning bells of the hidden danger awaiting to befall me.

Had I been paying closer attention to my desk, I might have noticed something was afoul beginning with a slight tilt the folders were beginning to take on.  A listing somewhat like the Tower of Pisa, but so benumbed was I in the fumes of Pine Sol,  I  failed to sniff out the cauldron of chaos brewing just beneath the surface.  A boil of unfathomable menace growing and growing, threatening to explode with an unnatural force.

Days passed, then weeks until the day I awoke with a jolt...one burning question coursing through my mind.

Did I pay the electric bill?

As the lights flickered on and off, I ran into the office and frantically tried to unearth the bill from the towering stacks.  Leafing through pile after pile of papers, haphazardly tugging out this bill and that bill, I paused only long enough to give a cursory glance to mail waiting to be read.

Is this a baby shower invitation?  When did Aunt Nora send me these photos?  No time to wonder now.  Time is running out. I must find my light bill before I'm left in the dark.

Searching---searching.

Continuing to ponderously dig in the unending mountains of white, I felt my throat tighten in the harsh reality of my situation.  In an effort to calm my shaking hands, I reached for my cup of coffee as my elbow errantly grazed the stacks stewn around me.  Without warning, envelopes began wildly cascading onto the floor.  Unable to stem the landslide, brown folders toppled as well, their copious contents spilling out, scattering to the four corners of the room.  Dust filled my nostrils as blood oozed from a myriad of paper cuts.

Feeling faint from the sight of my own blood, I hastily powered up my PC, the fear of losing power...and consciousness...threatening to extinguish my contact with the outside world.

Hearing it's hum, seeing the welcoming blue logo, I felt my heart stop racing as calm was restored with these normal familiarities, when suddenly...

clicking onto my e-mail icon...

GASP...

I found my mailbox overflowing as well!

Panic overcame me once again as I glanced around this 10x10 sea of paper I was entrapped in.  I was completely engulfed in manila and pulp.  The flood of paper choking me, I struggled to catch my breath as half-finished projects stared balefully at me from their corners o'shame mocking my tears o'shame.

Cobwebs yanked at my hair as I sat helpless in the floor, powerless to move lest something else fall on me.  Dust bunnies danced wildly across the floor, daring me to try and catch them.  A lost Yellow Box hidden beneath the desk winked sardonically at me. Unearthed shards of Oreos and Fritos encircled my chair providing no sustenance, only remembrances of past guilty secrets.

I was trapped...stripped of direction, covered in deception, and buried alive in a tomb of paper work.

Who could have been so callous as to do this to me?

What had I done to deserve such a fate?

Glancing to my left, I catch a glimpse of my dirty face in the mirror I had so precariously propped against the bookcase only a week before.  As the last scrap of paper slowly fluttered down into my lap, a sense of hopelessness over took me. 

For there my friends---in that dusty mirror---through tears of horror---I saw my Grimy Reaper.

I...

and I alone...

red-handed and red-faced...

held the shovel.

THE END

HAPPY HALLOWEEN and BOO Y'ALL!!!