Adam, Glenn Landy [e reader comics txt] 📗

the address yet but, it’s the room, the smell of stale coffee in the carpet, the unnecessarily loud tick of the clock and of course, the sound of her grunting with eminence as she shuffles into position, takes in her audience and passes a look that expects your attention. Adam is the manager but Michelle is the Queen. It’s a shit kingdom to rule.

And it begins………..

“So……Janet, did you try that exercise I recommended?”

The pain from his forehead is already increasing and he can feel the skin on his face begin to develop a darker more crimson complexion.

“Honestly Michelle, by the time I got home yesterday all I could do was sleep”.

Janet has made a categorical error with regard to The Michelle Show etiquette. She has quite foolishly made the assumption that what she has to say is of any relevance to these ‘discussions’. Michelle stops aimlessly knocking lettuce leaves around her plate and breaks Janet’s eye contact with a glare.

The pain now is so severe it recalls a memory Adam didn’t even know he had. The exact sensation he had when he was a child and cried so hard that he nearly passed out. Every muscle in his face is aching, there is no suitable reason to excuse himself that wouldn’t in itself appear strange.

“Well it’s your baby, what would I know, I’ve only successfully delivered three healthy children”.

His heart is pounding now, his palms muggy and gluey. He tells himself to relax. Why should he care? The more he fights it the worse he feels. The skin on his forehead feels taut. Then, like the calm before a storm, he drifts into a trance-like state and for a number of seconds, his vision becomes less focused, his head feels weightless. Adam is no longer in control. There is nobody at the helm.

“You’re some fucking bitch”

He is looking at her now in a manner his facial muscles don’t recognise. The type of face you pull when you see vomit on the street, or indeed, the type of face you pull when you’ve just vomited on the street.

Silence.

Michelle begins to become limp in her chair. The uncertainty of her body language is encouraging. Like a lion hearing a gunshot for the first time. She is in shock. She knows what she heard but her inability to process it is physically apparent. The Spork is now being held between her fingers with the proficiency of a mannequin. Out of his peripherals he can see Janet. Janet’s stature is still, except for an almost unnoticeable vibration down her arms. The type of vibration you usually only notice when you look for it, like concentrating carefully on a small speaker. Her fixed gaze is too deliberate to be natural. In this moment, this exact moment, Adam realises that he is not going to apologise. That fail-safe that is bred into each and every one of us to retract when we let out a glimpse of our natural state does not trigger in Adam this time. In fact, unbeknownst to poor Michelle, she is the one who has worn away the safety mechanism. She has in effect pulled the trigger on herself. Something has to give, it has literally only been seconds but feels like minutes.

At this stage Michelle has processed what has been said to her and that it was not meant as a joke.

Janet wants out but can only remain still. For a moment she reminds Adam of that scene in Jurassic Park about the T-Rex not being able to see you if you remain perfectly still - Janet does not want to be here.

Adam, well Adam is calm. In fact Adam even has time to contemplate how he is thinking about Jurassic Park when he has just said what he did. Eventually something gives; Janet.

“Humruu……hu”

It is somewhere between a whimper and a yell, but perhaps the most involuntarily hilarious thing that could have happened at this moment in time, but nobody is laughing. Adams’ eye contact does not falter. He continues,

“You are, without a doubt, the most, disgusting excuse for a human being I have ever had the misfortune of laying my eyes on! With your stupid fucking children and your stupid fucking life! People in this place must be brain dead to tolerate you! A manipulative, scheming, sanctimonious, useless sack of shit!”

His delivery is slow and careful. He pronounces every syllable and gestures with his hand to maintain her attention. He wants her to read the words off his lips. He wants her to fully understand how he feels toward her. By this stage, Michelle is done. He sees the briefest split second in her eye that she considers a counter strike. He watches it come and go. This will not be her moment. The next thing he sees in her eyes is the reflection of the ceiling fan. She has shifted to the only strategy she has left, defence; and the tears are coming. At first it is somewhat like a desperate sniffle, as though she expected to be physically attacked. The quivering lip and running nose are manifesting themselves but there is still no sound. She is unsure of the situation and in turn unsure if she can cry. Michelle is terrified, like she is being held at gunpoint and can’t look away. It eventually becomes apparent to her that the worst is over, and with that, the wailing begins..........the noise is outstanding.

It is the catalyst that brings Adam back into the room. As though this had just been another fantasy on his train ride home, but this was real. Janet had fled like an antelope to locate somebody capable of social interaction. Adam watches her rock in her chair, holding her hands inches from her face like she is catching tears, howling in agony like a dying cow. He is beginning to come around. The realisation of what has just happened is beginning to settle. As he stands to leave he maintains eye contact. Her eyes are for the most part closed but every few seconds she opens them to check if he is still there. As she does they widen as though she is seeing a ghost and the roaring increases. Adam walks to the coat hooks and slowly puts on his jacket all the time watching her. As he moves to the door he stops. He looks back one last time and takes it in. He enjoys that he has embarrassed her and how repulsive she looks crying. He waits for the eyes to open one more time so that she can see him smile. As he takes his leave he passes Janet on her way back from her expedition with help in tow. As he walks through the sliding doors Adams mind is blank. Like holding a brush inches from a fresh canvas trying to decide what the first stroke should be.

This is not how people handle their problems. They talk them through and they embrace and they maybe even cry and then they leave the room and shift the loathing back into gear – and nothing is achieved. Something has however been achieved here today. He is a mercenary who just assassinated a psychological terrorist and for this momentary act of whatever it is Adam did, reality has not been suspended. Quite the contrary;

Reality, has been reinstated……

 

Chapter 2

 

CHAPTER TWO

The walk from work to the train was always conducted in a state of partial awareness, something that had not previously been apparent to him. More than he cared to admit, perhaps narcissistically, Adam had always considered himself capable of something great, he believed it with a ferocious conviction. The shortcomings of his ambitions, the failures to address them and the fact that he alone was the only person to be held accountable all amalgamated into one resultant – the deflated, lifeless, departed treading his best years into the same path beneath his feet on a daily basis. Probably the reason Michelle got both barrels less than half an hour ago, but Adam was not going to apologise, he had already decided that, she was an appalling person and her opinion of him did not warrant a second thought.
As he walks the short walk to the train and takes in his surroundings he observes passers-by going about their daily routines. He imagines he’s an undercover agent, a wolf amongst the sheep, disguised as one of ‘them’ but in possession of a dark secret – you don’t have to do what people expect you to. He just verbally attacked and demolished a person’s character and walked out of his job and his heart is still beating and the world is still turning.

Adam thought to himself of how he will retell the story of what just happened in that staff room by opening with, “Well it wasn’t my proudest moment....” but it was. He had finally done something, he had finally stood up for himself against a tyrant and just as he felt like life had got the better of him he shocked himself back from the edge. The lingering question of, ‘What next?’ had not escaped him, but that didn’t matter now.
As a matter of fact, nothing mattered right now. For the first time since he was a child Adam was free. He did not have to worry about study, a girlfriend, a job or any of the social requirements expected of a man who has, in the eyes of the world, had his fill of living and should now be planning his demise. For today however, nothing else mattered and cliché as it may be, Adam’s only intentions were to get as drunk as humanly possible.
As Marcus was working until five that evening Adam found himself with a full day available to do whatever he felt like, but what did he feel like doing? This was an unplanned venture and going straight home seemed like the wrong thing to do. He was riding a high and the thought of microwaving noodles and watching the other half of that serial killer documentary on Netflix was too much of an anti-climax. As he came around from this thought process he found himself standing on Platform 3 in front of his chariot home. The doors invitingly open in the expectation of his boarding. The ticket inspector was a man with whom Adam was all too familiar, they had never conversed beyond the appropriate nod of the head or generic insincere, rhetorical query of each others welfare "Hi, how's things?" but they were familiar nonetheless. The inspector is peering out from behind the door like a prisoner, wide-eyed with something of an uneasiness about him, his sad eyes beckoning Adam to board.
That track, that train, that carriage, that seat, it felt like a trick. The destination was inevitable, he knew where his track would end and the noodles that were waiting for him.
HIIIIIIIIISSSSSSSSSSSS!!! the doors slide violently to the last few inches then, with a wink, creep shut to a close. The whistle screeches at his defiance and the train heaves itself from the platform with its incomplete cargo. Adam holds the inspector's gaze as he is taken away down that single track. He exhales for a number of seconds and briefly