Title: A Little Horse Author: Leftfag Pastebin link: http://pastebin.com/hwTzwgY0 First Edit: Tuesday 12th of January 2016 04:40:32 PM CDT Last Edit: Last edit on: Monday 18th of January 2016 03:35:44 PM CDT >'It's just worse today, I don't think I'll be able to make it in unfortunately.' >You pause for a moment, lead in your bed looking up at the phone held in front of you >Maybe you shouldn't say that >Maybe you should... >'If I get any better today, I'll let you know. I might be able to come in tomorrow.' >Yeah, that'll do >Give him some hope, make it look like you're trying as hard as you can to get better >And then pull a sicky again tomorrow >You hit the send button, as quickly as you were done typing your response to the boss >You were almost lucky that you'd timed your "flu" really well >Apparently, half the office was off with the flu too >If anyone asks, it was just going around >A seasonal bug >Nothing unusual about that >You put your phone down on your bedside table, looking up blankly at the ceiling >You're tempted to get some extra rest >Maybe another hour? >Or two? >Then, you'll get up and waste the day away relaxing >Sitting at your computer >Jacking it >Lying around in your own filth >Okay, maybe the place had got a bit messy whilst you'd been "ill" >Maybe you shouldn't be comfortable with pretending to be sick for some time off work >Or, maybe you could deal with it for one more day >It was Friday tomorrow >The weekend after that >Stay home tomorrow, clear up then, back to work on Monday >...But Monday mornings are always a nightmare >Maybe you'll be back in on Tuesday >But Tuesday is the worst day of the week >Your train of thought is interrupted by a tickle in your throat >You cough, trying to clear it, but can't >Huh, you think to yourself, a glass of water will have to do >Your plans for rest are put aside as you make your way to the kitchen, used glass in hand, and pour yourself a glass from the sink >Your throat has become really sore since you got out of bed >It came on pretty fast >Wouldn't it be funny if you did actually have a cough or something, especially after faking an illness >You took a sip of your drink >Which soon became a gulp >Which soon found yourself chugging the whole glass in one go >No matter how much you tried, your throat felt as dry as sandpaper >Fuck >This couldn't just be a normal thing >You really were ill, weren't you? >Not ill enough not to work granted, but ill regardless >You thought about going for something else to sooth your throat >A cough sweet or something >But before you could, from the other room, you heard your phone buzzing by your bed >Shit >You rushed back to your bedroom, briefly checking the caller ID on your phone >'The Boss', it read >You composed yourself for a stern telling off >Expecting the worse >"If you're not in by tomorrow, you're fired!" >"Get your arse down here right now, we're short staffed!" >There was a moment of hesitation before you pressed the answer button "Hell-" >You began, stopping half way through your sentence >Jesus Christ, your voice! >Your voice was awful! >You took yourself by surprise at how croaky it was >"Anon?" >The distinctive voice of your boss - the big guy himself - on the other end of the phone >He didn't sound pissed off with you or anything, he sounded as surprised by your voice as you did >...You could use this to your advantage "Yeah, it's me." >You coughed, trying best to clear your throat >Because you were actually trying to clear your throat! "How are things in the office?" >You continued, your cough having not made any difference >"Things are fine. I was just calling to see how you were, but don't worry about it. Stay home." >Fuck yes >Barely had to try and you're already off the hook "Sure, that's the plan." >You joked, trying to force a little laugh but it just turned into another cough >"Alright, take it easy Anon. I'll see you when you're better." "You too." >You conclude, hanging up before he has time to say goodbye >One less problem to worry about   >But almost immediately as you drop your phone onto your bed, watching it bounce, it buzzes again >It's a text from your friend Phil >Friend from work, that is >Not the kind of friend that you'd go down to the pub with >But one that you'd hang around the office water cooler with when you were fed up of sitting in front of a screen for hours >Your boss had told you that he was off when you called in sick earlier in the week >Him, among a bunch of other people too >You reached for your phone again, holding it in front of your face >"Are you a little horse?" >What? >Fucking, dumb auto correct >You quickly type a message back to him >'A bit more than little, it's really bad.' >And hit send >You threw your phone back to your bed, focusing back on the bigger problem at hand - your throat >You swear, just the couple of minutes away from water have made it even worse >You could probably happily stand drinking out of the tap for the rest of the day without rest and you bet your throat would still be dry >Not that it was, so unbearably bad >But it just didn't seem to get any better >Never the less, you got yourself another glass >And this time a cough sweet on top of it >First the whole glass... And you're as dry as a board >Then the throat sweet and- >You phone goes off again >Fuck sake, can't you have two minutes to yourself >You make your way back into your bedroom, the taste of lemon sliding down your throat >Kinda relaxing, but still not making a difference >You look at your phone >It's Phil... Again >"How did you send that so fast?" >What? >Maybe he didn't expect you to reply so soon? >Thought you might be in bed >But, as quick as before, you reply >'What are you talking about?' >You hit send again >And suddenly, you feel like you've been hit in the stomach by a charging bull >Fucking hell, this is more than flu >This is more than some dumb sore throat >Or a cough >This is a lot worse >Is this what everyone else has been dealing with? >You fall onto your bed. clenching your stomach as hard as you can, hoping that for just a moment you might be able to get some relief >You think about curling up into your bed, under your sheets >Just closing your eyes in hope of getting some sleep >You really hope it was that simple >But no, escape doesn't appear to be that simple >Well, escape for you maybe but at the very thought >Like some kind of cruel jokes >Your insides feel like they're trying to escape from you >Fucking hell, this just get's worse and worse >You get up, as quickly as you can in your predicament, and make your way towards the bathroom >One hand on your stomach, another holding onto anything else you can for balance >You feel like you're going to vomit the entire contents of your stomach >And then maybe your entire digestive system along with it >You open the lid of the toilet and look down ready for the onslaught to begin >Getting a whiff of whatever it was that your dinner had become last night >You thought the smell would be enough to force your gag reflex to act >But it isn't >Nothing happens >You feel like you're constantly on the edge of throwing up >It's not getting better >Not getting worse either, thankfully >But at this point you can't imagine how much worse the feeling can get >You let out a sigh, deciding that you should probably go back to bed instead of hanging around at the toilet all day >You begin to get back onto your feet, closing the lid on the way up >But the moment you reach your full height, you can't bare to stand anymore >You look down at your own feet >Suddenly, the bathroom floor looks awfully comfortable >Maybe, you decide for yourself, you should rest >Take a moment to relax >Wake up later >You're right next to the toilet, if you need to vomit when you wake up >Yeah... >It doesn't seem to bad actually >You rest your head on the floor, feeling yourself drift into a deep sleep >Your stood atop a mountain, above the clouds >Looking over at the vast white landscape >It's breathtaking >Literally, you can't breath properly >As quickly as you can, you drop down onto your knees taking deep, long breaths >But there's no air rushing into your mouth >Your throat is as dry as a bone >...Kind of like it was earlier >Earlier? >Where we you earlier >You've always been here, basking in the view and the rays of the sunlight above you >The clouds under your feet >You didn't notice at first, but you can breathe again >Again, you're not entirely sure how long you've been able to >Or why you couldn't before >Nothing appeared to change, right? >You looked around for anything out of the ordinary >But nope, nothing >You were just on top of a mountain >Above the clouds >On all fours >Watching the clouds crack, and crumble below >The sound... >Snap >That awful, awful sound >Snap >Getting closer and closer >Snap >It seems weird >Out of place >The clouds, below you, cracking as far as the eye can see >But the sound seems closer >And louder >And, it's really high pitched >It's not what you would have expected at all >The sound get's closer >And the shock waves, the cracking in the clouds, it draws closer >You watch as it reaches the mountain top your stood on >And suddenly... >Everything goes black >You can't feel fingers or toes >Or your feet or hands >Your face is numb >Your head sore >But... >Wait, are you dreaming anymore? >You're not entirely sure >Did you just sleep funny? >Are you in bed, under the sheets? >You notice the light shining through your sheets >And as you reach forward to lift it up... >It's just a bit further away from you than you thought >Or are your arms shorter than you remember?