Printer by Curtis Silver

Gary walked out of the office onto the curb. It was a clear day, not a cloud in the sky. He wondered how cliché that thought was as he dug in his left trouser pocket for a lighter. He found the lighter and brought it up to the cigarette dangling out of his mouth. He lit it and dropped the lighter back into his pocket. The cool taste of menthol filled his lungs, burning him from the inside. He didn’t mind. He knew that lung cancer wouldn’t be the thing that killed him. He had a strong feeling it would be something else. He looked up again at the sky as he walked towards the smoking area. It had been dry lately, which explained why the bushes near the smoking area flamed up too quick for Gary to do anything about it. Suddenly the grass around the building was on fire; suddenly the building was on fire. Gary stepped back from the building onto the street. A cinder of ash must have ignited some underbrush while he was staring at the lack of clouds in the sky. The front of the building and all its decorative plants were on fire. He saw people through the smoke, trying to get out. He reached in his pocket for his cell phone, but it wasn’t there. It was back at his desk. Gary didn’t know what to do, until the second floor windows shattered as his co-workers threw their monitors out of the windows. A monitor crashed near Gary’s feet. He jumped back and looked up just in time to see a printer — in fact, the large color printer from Marketing — coming down at him. He didn’t see it land on him, or crush his skull into the pavement. He did however see his mother appear in the light. She had meatloaf. Gary loved meatloaf.

© 2012 Curtis Silver, first appeared at Fictionaut

Curtis Silver writes stuff. On the internet. Follow him on Twitter@cebsilver. He makes jokes. About stuff. On the internet. Also, he can’t swim. Ok, he can swim but he just doesn’t. The ocean is full of trash. You can find him at http://www.wired.com/geekdad/author/cebsilver/
Smoking is bad.

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