The man opened his eyes. The first thing he saw with a hungover gaze was a working fan. There was a tie on one of the blades. I'm surprised it didn't blow away.
The man sat down on the couch, resting his head in his hands. After sitting in that pose, like a Rodin thinker for about twenty minutes, Harry got up and headed for the bathroom.
Staring into the hazy (or maybe just dirty) mirror, he exhaled slowly. The sigh sounded as if it contained a universal longing, mixed with a bit of overconsumption.
Quickly splashing water on his face, the man shook his head. Like a dog after a bath in the river.
A little sobered up, Harry went back into the room.
The tie on the fan was spinning easily and casually as if mockingly. In the rustling of the fabric in that faint breeze could be heard
"Loser, hey... You can't spin as easily as I do."
Maybe it was a hangover hallucination, though. Who knows.
"Gotta take it off after all," thought Harry.
Jumping with his arm outstretched, he tried to reach for the unfortunate tie. But suddenly he couldn't hold on, he collapsed to the floor.
Lying on the floor, consciousness of what was going on in the world gradually returned to Harry's head.
He lay on the floor, slowly tracing the paddle and tie with his eyes. After cursing loudly at the tie and his failed attempt, Harry stood up, picked up a chair, and placed it under the fan.
Remembering that the fan was on, the man walked over to the switch, and pressed it.
The fan stopped. The tie stopped fluttering airily.
Harry climbed into a chair and untied the knot where the tie had been tied.
Taking it off, he put the chair back in place and turned the fan back on.
Harry's eyes lit up with a twinkle of joy.
YOU ARE READING
Vinegret, or People and Things
Short StoryA collection of tiny stories about the relationship between people and things
