Naked Disc

There is a loud thud at the front door. A brown envelope scrapes its way through the bristle-like fringe of the mail slot and falls to the floor. Brisk footsteps retreat down the stairwell echoing in the bleak emptyness of concrete and chipping paint. Before I have walked the length of the livingroom, I hear the door to the street groan on its hinges and bang closed again.
There is no writing on the envelope, only a symbol. It looks like a geometric fish. I don't know what it means. I haven't ordered anything. I press my fingers against the paper. It's rigid - circular - a CD. I hold the envelope up to the light in the misplaced hope that this will answer the many questions that cross through my mind. I decide to wait and see if the mysterious deliverer will return to collect it but my fingers have already tugged at the edge of the seal. It opens without resistance. I slide the CD into my hand. Aside from being neon green in colour the CD has no inscription, no symbols. I cross back through the livingroom and switch on my computer. I hear the door to the street creak open and slam shut again - Footsteps acending the stairs - I slide the disk into the drive - Footsteps cross the first floor landing - The computer asks if I would like to run the disk - Footeteps tapping up the second flight - Click 'Yes' - The heel, toe slap of footsteps on the second floor landing followed by the jangle of keys being inserted into a door one floor down - The program whirrs in the disk drive and the geometric fish appears on the screen, below it the instruction 'Click to enter'.
...Click...

A fanfare begins to play. Then a buttery-smooth barratone voice announces, 'Welcome to Neon Fish Farm, the greener way to buy fish! Get 10% off your first purchase with this exclusive promotional code!'

Fucking advertising gimmicks.


You next. Finish the thought: I remember what I had for breakfast the day my hamster died.

Written by Kelli