Thursday, May 26, 2011

The Anomaly

So here is a story I wrote, enjoy.

The Anomaly

The sudden flash of brilliant light awoke Braxton just before 3 am, a peculiar time for a brilliant flash of light in uptown Manhattan. Braxton was accustomed to police sirens and gunshots in the night air, so it was not as if any dissonant tone or occurrence would be any shock to him, but it was the sudden absence of this white noise that instinctively sent a signal to Braxton’s subconscious, informing him of this oddity. It puzzled him in that instant, but that confusion quickly turned to apprehension when the realization of this aberrant occurrence sunk into the innermost part of his consciousness. Braxton was instantaneously alert, and scrambled out of his loft and up to his penthouse window, across the cold hardwood floor. Braxton’s response to the sight that greeted him was a mixture of unfathomable horror and desolate alienation. Braxton suddenly fell to the floor in a unconscious state of shock, a product of the sight that had just befallen him. Hours from that point, Braxton realized just how much of a mistake this was.

For the second time in seven hours, Braxton awoke as a result of the lustrous anomaly, the primary alliteration was the additional splitting headache from the crippling effect of the shock. He wearily shuffled to his lavatory only to be faced with his disheveled appearance. The cause of this product did not immediately occur to Braxton, for many mornings he had awoken in a disorderly state, ordinarily as a result of his profession as a chaos mathematician or feuding with his late wife. He ran the frigid water of the faucet with the intent to splash it upon his face, and as he did, looked into his own reflection. It occurred to him that an aberrancy from his standard routine from the previous night was illogical, for he had too much at stake for today, and as his thoughts started to form coherent conclusions in his mind, he was confronted with the complete extent of his horrid situation. It dawned on him that his faucet had never actually started, and his appearance was shaded by the lack of light in his penthouse. As Braxton listened for even trace evidence that his faucet may just be stopped, he noticed the utter lack of noise in his environment, an odd occurrence. Illuminated only by the sunlight through the morning facade of clouds allowed to shine only by his open window, Braxton realized this too was atypical of his behavior. Braxton himself had been paranoid at the thought of theft, due to his current place of residency, and his financial status. It still had not occurred to Braxton that his watch was stopped at 2:58 am and the typical luminescence of his alarm clock or house fan had been omitted from his morning. Braxton approached his open window as a chilling breeze went through his window, and brushed against him. Slightly agitated by the lack of heat in his penthouse, Braxton impetuously shut the frame on his window, without allotting time to look beyond the curtain. This was Braxton’s second fatal mistake of the morning.

Burdened by his anomalous awakening, Braxton strode over to his elevator, still distracted by the pulsing pain in his head, and attempted feverishly to conjure the justification behind his lack of composition that morning. Despite his line of work, Braxton was tormented by a sense of underlying order, and found vexation behind error in his own practice. Braxton pressed the down button, and absentmindedly started to concentrate on his recent theory of subjectivity that had recently plagued his every thought. From a subjective viewpoint, the mind is just a reciprocal method of conveying certain interpretations of reality. The lack of any of these reciprocals that correlates and materializes all visual aspects of society could result in catastrophic mental instability, triggered by any exceedingly complex increments of data exposed to the insufficient amount of comprehensible information feasibly accepted by the human subconscious. Any one person could never comprehend the realization that the reality that faces them is not actually reality at all, but a mental projection of.... Suddenly it dawned on Braxton that minutes had passed, and the elevator had since yet to arrive. Heavily dependent on modern technology and the society in which any insufficient innovation was inevitably rendered obsolete within months, Braxton could not afford to wait any longer, and decided it would be highly more efficient at that rate to take the stairs. Upon that thought, Braxton happened to glance at his IWC Grande Complication watch, concerned that he might arrive at work too late to catch Melony still working in the laboratory. As he commenced his time consuming walk down to the lobby, Braxton was assaulted with a situation of perplexing bewilderment. The face of his watch read an impossible statistic, for Braxton knew it was not already 2:58 pm. As Braxton skipped steps down flights of stairs, the continuation of Braxton’s odd situation again made itself present in the foremost part of Braxon’s consciousness. Such an expensive watch had never been know to fabricate any such statistic, and Braxton had purchased this watch specifically for its inapt ability to be void of fault.

As Braxton stepped through the door to the main lobby, he was again granted the utmost conviction of alienation. The lobby was a desolately barren of any human activity, a sight Braxton had never witnessed in the entire five years he had resided in this building. He had expected to speak to the doorman on his way out, asking of the eerie chilling sensation he had felt all morning, but instead was only greeted by the hazy luminance spilling through the atrium of the glass fa├žade. As Braxton cautiously but impatiently walked through the empty lobby, again, his theory flashed through his mind, and his headache only increased with the addition of the uncensored exposure to the lucid effulgence. How would one know if that individual had slipped into the void of anti-reality? As illogical as any element of existence may decide to present itself in interpretation, the intermediary intended to convey reality would not acknowledge any anomaly or irregularity. Said person would not undergo any evident mental difference, and might not even notice that certain occurrences did not coincide...

Braxton stepped out of the open lobby, and was instantly hit with a torrent of thoughts, brought on by a brilliant light in the sky, specifically the one from approximately 2:59 am. Suddenly, Braxton considered the option that it might not be a coincidence that the events that had befallen him in the past 24 hours coincided with his research. As Braxton undauntedly turned to face the incandescent anomaly, he regained exposure, and gained complete comprehension of the events that had befallen. The mistake Braxton had fallen victim to was ever considering that his own theory of reality was his.

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