A Shortness of Breath by Will Buckley

A bubble that was waiting to burst. A complicated small town scenario. Too many wants with too many people. A mixture of cross dressing, rock and roll, love affairs, violence, blackmail, attempted murder and friendships. Literally, just a nightmare.

£8.99

 

Chapter One

            Jeremy Hughes often wondered why nobody in the office ever really talked to him. It was something he found peculiar, occasionally arousing his curiosity. Admittedly, there were the usual polite pleasantries in the morning but these seemed hurried and very rarely developed into any form of proper conversation.
            This morning was of no exception, as again the same implied lack of interest in Jeremy was still present. Sitting at his desk for those few moments and alone, Jeremy wondered what to do. Caroline on Order Processing was pretending to be busy in her office and Ernest, the Planning Controller, was too smitten by his own apparent important company position. There was no one available, but Jeremy needed someone to talk with which was in a way strange as Jeremy was quite used to his own solitude.
            Yet, on reflection, the whole morning seemed strange; this thought fitting in well with the mood of the morning, seemingly more intense than usual for some reason. What was it thought Jeremy? After all, why was everybody working in the office on a Sunday? As Jeremy looked over to his calendar to confirm the day, its appearance startled him. It had changed from the traditional country cottage views with the Barking Brothers engineering company logo. Why had it changed? Who had changed it? For some reason, Tiger Lilies now blossomed across the calendar page, but they did not stop there. The calendar merged into the wallpaper of the office wall, which for some reason had become the same wallpaper as that of his parents’ bedroom.
            Suddenly the office doors slammed closed, Caroline emerged from her office, still saying nothing to Jeremy. Her appearance was different for her make-up was smudged and her top blouse bottom undone. God she looked sexy with this dishevelled look.
            The doors closed once more, but this time the noise was louder and accompanied by shouting from the end of the office. Who was shouting thought Jeremy? The lights became blurry. Ernest was still busy with his reports but Caroline had transformed. She took of her blouse, arched her back and pointed her breasts towards Jeremy. Her nipples looked darker and larger than what he had imagined, although truthfully, it was a detail he had not really considered.
            Jeremy looked stunned, nothing in the office had happened like this before. Caroline slowly walked over to him. As she got nearer, he noticed she had a black polythene bin bag in her hand. She was smiling. It would have been a sweet smile yet her smudged make-up made her whole presence seem eerie.
            Looking around the office again, to see if anyone else had noticed Caroline, Jeremy quickly saw that the windows of the office had changed. They were no longer rectangular shapes but now small and dark portholes, similar to those found on a boat. In fact, Jeremy soon realised that yes; they were on a boat. This was not the office at all.
            “There’s rough seas ahead,” said Caroline. “You’ll need some protection, better put this on.”
            “But why?” enquired Jeremy.
            “We don’t want you to get wet.”
            Without hesitation Caroline lifted the sack and went to put it over Jeremy’s head. Feeling understandably uncomfortable with this arrangement Jeremy lifted his arms to avoid Caroline’s beleaguered offer.
            “I don’t want to,” replied Jeremy.
            “You must, it’s the rules.”
            Jeremy looked again to the walls; there was a loud bang. He spun around. A porthole window had burst; water was now gushing into the office floor. However, Caroline did not notice, her focus on the job in hand of protecting Jeremy from the water was too great to distract her.
            “Put the sack on,” shouted Caroline. “Put the god damn fucking sack on.”
            “No,” protested Jeremy. “I don’t want to.”
            Nevertheless, on went the sack as Jeremy could not resist Caroline’s unusual advances. With the last knot tied in the bag, Jeremy noticed Caroline’s hand through a small gap, still prevalent around his waist. Her hand was not empty. It now held a hammer that Jeremy instantly recognised. It was his father’s, the one he kept in the garden tool shed and used for jobs around the garden. Oddly, Jeremy’s concern lay with how Caroline had come to possess this hammer rather than the immediate consideration of what she was hoping to achieve with it.
                “It’s going dark,” said Jeremy. “It’s going dark.”
            Caroline did not answer. Instead, she administered the first blow to Jeremy's head. It was a powerful force and one that cracked his skull. He could feel liquid pouring down his forehead and presumed it must be blood. Why was Caroline doing this? Did she really hate Jeremy that much?
            Another blow followed by another blow. Caroline’s accuracy and precision with the hammer was impressive. She was certainly determined in her performance.
            “I can’t breathe,” complained Jeremy. “I can’t breathe.”
            “Shut up, just fucking shut up,” said Caroline, not wanting to be distracted from her work with Jeremy’s mutterings.
            “No, please, no, no, no…”
            Jeremy’s words continued until all his effort was exhausted. As he said his last no, suddenly his conscious returned to him again, he was in his bedroom, sweat was pouring from his forehead, his sheets were drenched, Caroline was nowhere to be seen.
            It’s a dream, thought Jeremy.
            “Oh my God, thank God, it’s not real…. It’s a dream.”
           

Published by Turner Maxwell Books

First published 2007.
Copyright © Will Buckley 2001

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted or stored in a retrieval system in any form or by any means without permission in writing by Turner Maxwell Books.

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Warning: May contain explicit material, which is not intentionally offensive.
Warning: It may also contain nuts.

Not suitable for children

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental and may be more the work of your own imagination. Why not write a book yourself? Turner Maxwell Books are an alternative co-operative of new writers, working towards publishing inspirational literature.

Printed and bound in the United Kingdom for Turner Maxwell Books.