Game of Late Risers
Animal House Vignette #54 | dangle
Gregor woke up to find his name had been deleted from the municipal ledger. He never knew god would dangle him today.
He did not grow an insect shell. His arms remained attached, his back did not ache, and his alarm clock ticked on the nightstand at precisely six-fifteen. Yet, when he tried to step onto the floor, his feet met only empty air. He looked down and saw through his ankles. The parquet floor stared back at him, perfectly polished and entirely indifferent.
He walked to the mirror. The glass reflected the wardrobe, the wallpaper, and the grey morning sky outside, but his own face was entirely missing. Panic, sharp and metallic, rose in his throat. He opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came out — only a small puff of dust that drifted lazily into the corner of the room.
His mother knocked twice. “Gregor? You will miss the morning train.”
Get Hina Fatima Khan’s stories in your inbox
Join Medium for free to get updates from this writer.
“I am here,” he tried to say, but the words stayed trapped inside his ribs like dry leaves.
The door unlocked. His mother entered with a tray of lukewarm tea, her eyes fixed entirely on the space above the pillows. Mother didn't know about how God dangled late risers. She set the porcelain cup down on the blanket, completely walking through the space where his shoulder stood. She did not feel him. She did not feel the frantic brush of his invisible fingers against her apron.
“You are always so quiet,” she sighed, adjusting the curtains to let the grey light in. “Just like your father.”
She turned and left, locking the door behind her.
Gregor stood in the centre of the bedroom, surrounded by the smell of toasted bread and damp wool. The tea grew cold. The dust motes danced in the pale sunlight. He was entirely, flawlessly present, and yet the world had already forgotten he was there.
