Jim Steps Out WIP

   Jim Pevensey was by no means a man who stood out in the crowd. He did his best to remain mostly unnoticed in most social situations. At the local grocer he maintained his routine of going at times he knew fewer people would be out and about so as to get his shopping done privately, and whenever possible he took back roads and little forgotten routes to face as little traffic as possible.
   He was a quiet man, liking a simple life and seeking simple pleasures such as sitting on his back porch and reading quietly, or going for walks by quiet brooks in the park. He often sought escape from the stresses of the noisy world in comedy series on his small television as well, finding solace from distressing memories of his younger years in the nonsensical exploits of animated rabbits, and angry ducks.
   Although Jim led a quiet life of a predictable routine, of late he'd begun to tire of it and long for more than this dull repetition. Deep down Jim was a dreamer and always hoped there'd be more to his life than a boring routine of an excited youth who had slowly eased into a bland adulthood like a well worn, brown easy chair in your grandmother's sitting room.
   Jim was sure, first of all, that he would have had a spectacularly beautiful and exciting companion by now, and yet he lived alone in a small flat that never looked like it sat straight up and down. Jim liked to compare this to the leaning tower of Pisa, but in truth, it really wasn't worth noting, and it mostly just played on people's sanity.
   Jim longed to be traveling the world and translating his adventures into fairy tales in his own novel. Instead, Jim worked for a dilapidated university in the internet technology office. The building that Jim's IT office was in was a large, drab brick that some giant had carved offices and classrooms inside of. The structure sat in the middle of a concrete lot so as to remove it as far from nature and greenery as possible.
   Deep in the inner recesses of this box, far from the world's light and life was Jim's IT office. And deep in the center of that, in a dimly lit, stuffy closet was Jim's daily station. In ways he liked the isolation so he didn't have to endure the raised voices of people disagreeing with one another about politics. But it also left Jim feeling like a ghost, separated from the land of the living and the world of neon wildlife.


WIP