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Short Story: A Black Hole

The first draft of many short stories I plan to write. Enjoy!

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Short Story: A Black Hole
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Casey stood right at the foot of the bed, staring at what laid before him. Almost as if he hadn’t had to do this type of handy work before. He was strange and quite lanky for a man in his mid-twenties with a wife and life planned out already. Although his body was poorly maintained and the bags underneath his eyes seemed to be constantly pulled further and further away by two times the force of gravity, he never showed any signs of discomfort or unhappiness. He was like the Aristotle of his family and now he’s lost in his thoughts once again.

I rarely get the chance to even do this. To appreciate God’s work like this. Beautiful and compact, yet so spacious on the inside. It’s probably my ignorance towards the matter, I don’t have time much anymore to admire the simple. I just wish I could be more in—

“Casey do you mind if you can speed this up? I have to go to work” mutters Mallory, his wife.

“Yeah! I’m sorry I got lost in thought dear.. You know me.” Casey pauses, to activate his mind on the task at hand, “You know me.”

Mallory wasn’t exactly the type of women you would expect Casey to be with. She was a bombshell. She had an hourglass figure topped with curly brown hair and these mossy green eyes that only seemed possible for humans to have through contacts. She met Casey during a sociology project about gendered content and the degradation of compliments in their junior year of college. Mallory had never felt passion until that project working with Casey. Watching his hazel eyes widen as they spoke about their generation. She couldn’t take enough of him, so they started dating right after presentation of their assignment. Three years later they get married and two years after they buy their own home. The passion has slowly melted away, but ‘till death do them part.

“Honey, it’s not that hard! I’d do it myself, but my hands are wet.” Yells Mallory.

There he stood, making his final glare of appreciation before his decent into a woman’s world. He closes his eyes and begins to take in as much oxygen as his chest can hold lifting his grubby hands straight into the air from his sides. Casey quickly releases all the air his lungs swiped and throws his hands down. He was ready. The zipper was already down making this job an even easier task with little effort to move forward. He leans in closer and takes another second to admire such work only great hands could make. Taking a quick whiff of the fresh material which still smelled new like it was locked air tight in a Zip-lock bag. He knew Mallory had work and she was growing impatient so he did what any man would do in this situation, which was grab one side and shove a hand in.

Her new Michael Kors purse was already filled to the brim with papers and goodies that he didn’t even know existed!

“Her phone, her phone, I gotta find her phone..” muttered Casey, “If I was a women I’d keep my phone in the side p—“

“It’s not in the side pockets either Casey if you hadn’t looked already! You’re smart you should know that it would stretch the material. I’ve got to take care of that thing, it was a gift from my grandfather you know?” she barks from the kitchen.

“A woman’s purse, so essential for travel but most times it looks empty, but look at all this! How does all this stuff fit in here?” states to himself quietly, marveling at all of Mallory’s things.

His hand continues to shift through her purse practically feeling something new each time he made a movement. As much as he was a thinker, his amazement with the purses compaction made him forget that he could just take all of her junk out of her purse and find the phone more efficiently that way. Thus, he did. Piece by piece he took things out, not realizing all of the memories Mallory carried with her almost every day she left him. He dismissed the small papers in her purse as receipts and dumb notes that he wrote to her last week during their anniversary dinner just to be funny. They held no sentimental value to him, but obviously it wasn’t the same for her.

What else.. What else does she have in here. I didn’t know she had felt the same way. That’s so cute.

Casey pulls out an umbrella, reminiscent of their first date that went terribly wrong at an art gallery. It still had paint all over it, but it worked like a charm and that is what mattered to the both of them. She said she would never get rid of it, and although the date didn’t go as planned, she loved it. Setting down the umbrella, he uses his other hand to rummage through her purse some more, running into a half used stick of Bright Rose lipstick. He doesn’t recall her wearing make-up with him, but then again she was always gorgeous to him no matter the situation, so he paid no attention to the lipstick. He seemed to only be pulling make up from the bag now, her foundation, mascara, and a small container of powder were thrown onto the bed.

“Casey, I’m almost done here, I’ll get my phone myself, don’t worry about it” sighed Mallory as she finished washing the dishes up, causing all sorts of raucous.

“I got it baby don’t worry! You just have so much shit in here it’s amazing from a design standpoint. It’s such a compact little thing y’all can carry, but it can hold so much without getting too bulky like a black hole consuming what’s around it without any signs of letting up. It’s surprising to me you still have some of this stuff in here you know? Like those notes that I wrote and even,” Casey stopped as he pulled a picture out from the bottom of the purse. “Polaroid pictures. I didn’t think they would ever make a comeback but I feel the impact they can have once you look at one from back then. Look at us… We were so happy about that project. It definitely was a blast developing that thesis. You remember your response to my question Mal?”

She couldn’t hear him. The clash of the plates and pans from the morning’s breakfast was too loud for his scrawny voice to break through that sound barrier.

“Mal?” I’ve got to find her phone for her, her purse can hold a lot but it can’t be this hard to find such a big phone.

Bzzt!

Casey stopped everything. His eyes opened wide and he raised his head like a deer would once they heard a foot breaking a stick in the woods.

Bzzt! Bzzt!

He followed this vibration noise to the left side of the queen bed. It was Mallory’s side of the bed. He reaches underneath the pillow to read ‘Grandfather – 813-232-4325’ Casey answered it.

“Hey! Mr. Duncan, it’s Casey. Look Mallory isn’t—“

“Casey? You mean her husband? Uhm.. I gotta go. Yo tell her I called”

“Sure thi… Wait. Who the hell is this?”

The phone stopped. He dropped the phone in disbelief. Once at a healthy heart rate only to decline to an abnormal slow pace. He had a problem with anxiety. He would always pass out if taken by surprise too well. This was more than just takin by surprise. Mentally he was lost. Lost in his own galaxy, like a black hole consuming what’s around him without any signs of letting up. The last fragment of his heart shattered.

“Casey.. Why did you answer my phone.. I just asked you to find it and bring it to me. It’s not what it seems like I swear.” Mallory murmers and her voice starts to crack, “please breathe baby breathe, I just need you to stick with me, I’ve got a lot to explain.”

He turned to her.. with this last breath he could muster up before he fell to the ground he smiled, “‘Till death do us part my love, till death do us part.”
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